Harbinger

So we’re off to the big city tomorry, uyuh. I’ve been telling everyone I’m going to New York, which is true, but I’m allowing them to believe I mean New York City, which is not true. We’re going back to the ol’ Salt City, Syracuse, hometown of my darling spousal unit.

Since I’ve been hermitaceously tucked away here on this remote and rather stuck-in-time sandbar for many months, I realized it was time to gussy my damn self up so I can walk with pride down Franklin Street in hip, trendy Armory Square. So I got my hair cut (sexy!) and my eyebrows waxed (sophisticated!), bought two new shades of lipstick (alluring!) and washed my favorite jeans (alarmingly necessary!).

Now I’m all jazzed up, and I spent most of the day calling up all my old buds in town, strong-arming them into going out with us on Friday night to see the best bar band in the history of bar bands. All were happy to give in and say uncle.

So then I went to try on my new lipstick (it fits!) and stretch out the waistband of my most fetching jeans (they shrink in the dryer!) and checked myself out in the mirror.

OMG.

I have, like, the hugest zit on my face.

I have always had a pretty terrific complexion — my adolescent years were plagued with the usual crippling self-awareness and awkwardness, but not with acne, thank the gods. So what have been the THREE (3!) days in my life when I’ve had a conspicuous pimple on my face (we’re sticking with the face here)?

1. Senior prom.

2. Getting my passport picture taken.

3. Today.

There are a couple of ways to look at this. First, I fully realize that I am paying back in karma points what I had stored up by not being acne-riddled in high school. Fine. I’m down with that. More importantly, though, both of the first two events presaged something pretty cool happening in my life. So I’m going to take this as an indication of good fortune, as a good omen. Something really great is going to happen as a result of this trip, it just remains to be seen what and just how great it will be.

Unsightly skin blemishes, my personal Halley’s comet.

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