Murphy's Laws: 3 - 8

Ok, this entry has nothing to do with dating or relationships. This is a straight, unadulterated venting session. After this, it'll be back to your regularly scheduled programming...I promise.

Murphy's Laws, Numbers 3 - 8:
3. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.
4. If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong. Corollary: If there is a worse time for something to go wrong, it will happen then.
5. If anything simply cannot go wrong, it will anyway.
6. If you perceive that there are four possible ways in which a procedure can go wrong, and circumvent these, then a fifth way, unprepared for, will promptly develop.
7. Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse.
8. If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.

They say this Murphy dude was an optimist. I prefer to think of him, like I do myself - more of a realist. A lot of my friends think I'm pessimistic, but like Murphy, I just anticipate the possibility that bad things might happen and prepare as such. So Murphy and I, we're sort of a pair...we're good friends. His laws made perfect sense for my life. We get along.

At the beginning of 2006, I decided I was no longer gonna live my life according to Murphy's Laws. I did the unthinkable. I deserted my friend. "No more!" said I. "I'm gonna become a positive thinker!" Instead of seeing the glass as "just a half glass of water", I was gonna start looking at it as "half full".

I did well at this new positive thinking stuff. I got a new job, set some goals for myself, started working on a new book, finally got a handle on this love thing, and few months ago, I even crossed this goal of positive thinking off my list! I became that good at it.

So a few weeks ago when my birthday present to myself (my first trip to Europe) fell through, I looked at the positive side of things. Never mind that I'd specifically asked if I needed a visa and was told that I didn't, only to show up at the airport and to be told by the clerk, that I needed...yup, you guessed it! A visa. Never mind that Jamaica only got it's independence from England in 1962, and I still need a visa to go there, while U.S. citizens who got their independence from England in 18-God-knows-how-long-ago, don't need one. Never mind all of that. "This will give me an opportunity to work on some of my other goals," I said. So I volunteered at the community center, learned to crochet, and even went to COE's birthday party where I reconnected with a fooooine guy that I'd admired months ago. Murphy had made a reappearance, but I shut him down quickly. Nothing but positive thinking, I thought to myself.

And the day after I got turned back from the airport when I lost $60, I didn't let it bother me. "I hope someone less fortunate than myself found it." I said. Still tryna get your foot in the door, I see Murphy. No dice, buddy!

And even when the tour company told me that I'd "lost 100% of my $1559" (that's $1559 for you mathematically challenged folks), because my reason for not going to Europe wasn't medical, which was the only reason my insurance covered, I didn't stress it. "It's only money," I said. "When I'm dead, I can't take it with me." Murphy dude, just stop trying! I'm a different person now. I don't wanna hang out with you any more.

I decided to have a birthday party for myself at a spot that I go to quite frequently. It'll be just as good, I thought. But then neither of the 2 promoters called me back, and with a week left to the party date, I cancelled it. "No big deal," I said. "It was just not meant to happen this year."

It's the power of positive thinking, Murphy! Your laws just don't apply to my life anymore, dude!

I must digress for a bit: Two years ago, I went back to JA for the first time in a while. My dad had been talking about selling the house that I'd lived in ever since I was born, and I was a bit emotional at the time over that...I admit it. So after one of these emotional house-selling conversations, I decided to cut one of my locks and bury it under a tree which I'd had some really good memories, sittin' in my hammock singing and reading. Those of yall who know me and my irrational fear of lizards are probably like, "She was sitting in a hammock under a tree??!!" But oddly enough, I never saw a lizard in that tree during the time I used to sit there. Believe me, I was looking.

I cut the lock, went to the tree, and was about to bury it when I saw a HUGE brown lizard with a saw down his back and big bulging eyes just looking at me. Bad sign. I tumbled down the hill, clutching my lock and screaming bloody murder. I decided my lock wasn't meant to be there. So I reattached it and deserted the idea.

Fast forward to July 2006, I'm getting my hair done for Barbados' carnival. "You should really reattach this lock back here properly" my hairstylist said. "I can do it with a crochet needle." I personally didn't see what the big deal was, but I told him to go ahead. He couldn't find any crochet needles, so I just told him to leave it.

It's been months since then. I've washed my hair every week since then - about 18 times - without incident. I've twisted it, put it in buns, mohawks, ponytails, headwraps, etc., without incident. And where does this poorly reattached lock choose to fall out? On the exercise mat at the gym! Yup! And the worst part? I didn't even notice it. Some fat dude who I'm always cutting my eyes at practically screamed it at me after I'd walked away. "Hey you in the grey tights! You left your hair on the mat!" All loud and shit! Six pairs of eyes followed his finger to the mat: mine, his and the Trinidadian guy who tried to holla at me once. I wanted to be squashed by one of the weights. But I picked up my pride and the lock of hair and left. It's sitting on my couch.

I don't think there is enough positive thinking in the WORLD to help me with this one, so...

FUCK YOU, Murphy, from the bottom of my positive heart!

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming...nyam-yo-renge-kyo...

Share your embarassing story. Maybe it'll make me feel better.

Or email me a question to answer on my blog.