I'm cursed. By April 17th. Or at least I think I am. But I'm going to document this now, in 2011, so that if the curse plays out, and I die on April 17th, you'll all be safe in the knowledge that I told you so.
The curse isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I've noticed that for as long as I can remember (April 17th 2007), something monumental/dire has happened in my life. Let's start with April 17th 2007; I broke up with my first "real" boyfriend on this day. Hardly life changing, but it was a big deal at the time. One year later, I found myself in someone else's bed, and I was like "Oh snap! It's a year today since I broke up with Matt! How far I've come!" Little did I know that the sex I had on A17th08* (*Does that work?) would lead me into a painful, one sided relationship a la Kate Winslet in The Holiday.
So so far - My first break-up. I fell in Love. 2009 was a bit different in that what happened was that I shat myself.
Yeah you heard me. It was just a normal day, A17th09 to be precise, and I hadn't yet clocked on to my curse. I was in the middle of a Jungle, in a homophobic country, so obviously the Curse-Master couldn't inflict any romance related calamities on me this day. But I got out of my hut, as I did every morning, brushed my teeth by the river side, in my swim shorts and t-shirt whilst watching the hundreds of school children sweep the grass (???). My tooth-brushing was, as always, interrupted by the headmasters house-girl telling me my breakfast was ready. So I put my toothbrush back in my hut, and crossed the busy field to the headmasters hut, where I sat with him and his wife, to our usual breakfast of Hot water and fresh bread. And then suddenly I shat. It wasn't even faux flatulence. One second I was chewing by bread, the next second I was shitting. At a table full of people, in loose shorts, in a house without a toilet. I had no choice but to finish my breakfast with a stern face, and politely excuse myself, somehow keeping my back to the wall. I couldn't keep my back to the wall when crossing the field, back to my hut, but who knows what, if anything, the children saw. They probably just saw the crazy white man clutching at his shorts for no reason. Anyway, we don't need to know the rest of the story. Suffice to say I got washed and changed and went to school. The point is - Who shit's themselves?! Nobody does. Except children, old people, people who are having anal sex, and people who are cursed. We know which category I fell into on that day, don't we (the cursed one). It was only in writing it in my diary that night that I spotted the date at the top of the page! I noticed the trend, How exiting.
Forward a year; April 17th 2010. After basically exactly 2 years of self inflicted torture, I found myself in that boys bed again. Fooling around. It's something I'd wished for for years, and as I kissed him, I felt emancipated from my wishes, and basically got over it. Who knew how simple it was! Besides the fact that we fell out a month later, the curse had been broken!!! A break-up, unrequited love, and a shit. I'd ended it with something good! An emancipation! Woohoo! I got on with my life for another year.
Then last week, I realised something. The most important trial of 2011 for me so far, is going to be The London Marathon. Guess what Sherlock. It's on April 17th.
It awaits to be seen whether the events of A17th10 mean that the curse is now a good curse, or whether it was just an off year, and I'm going to break my leg and die at mile 23. Maybe nothing will happen; i'll receive an average time and my legs will hurt a bit; but it is definitely something major, and definitely on april 17th, so that's definitely the 5th year in a row. And now I have the blog entry to prove that curses exist. Stay tuned for A17th12 - end of the world edition.