Evil 23

Prelude post: Is the 23 in your life?

I went to sleep this morning at 5 am, after a night of binge coding. Tracie woke me at 8:30 saying that I had to go pick up my mom. She had fallen and broken her leg. My mom lives on forty-acres in the backwoods of Ripley, Ohio, a half-hour away from civilization in any direction, and it took me at least forty-five minutes to get there. My brother had already made it by the time I showed up (he lives in Ripley), and together we loaded my poor mom into the back of my PT Cruiser. It was only after we got to the hospital that I noticed today's date: The 23rd of August. Guess what her room number is at the hospital? 323. No bullshit.

Compounded: When the movie The Number 23 came out back in February, I wrote a post about it on one of my more popular blogs (not this one). A marketing firm for the movie read it and contacted me to see if I wanted to offer a promotional movie package (t-shirt, poster, soundtrack, tickets) in a sweepstakes on the site. I said yes, and as a bonus they sent me an extra package for myself. Since the movie wasn't playing around here, I gave the t-shirt and tickets to my younger brother living in South Carolina. My mom and dad just got back from a trip to see him on Tuesday. Guess what t-shirt he was wearing when last visiting with my mom? The Number 23 movie t-shirt I had sent him!

Did I curse my mom? One thing I am convinced of (at least somewhat) is that Life secretly tries to fuck with us. I realize that some might consider that to be superstitious or smacking of magical thinking, and that's fine. Believe whatever you want to believe. I'm not going to argue with you. All I know is that I have a very detailed timeline drawn out that represents my life, and clearly shows that in the very least Life is constantly trying to fuck with me.

Sorry Mom. Didn't mean to 23 curse you.