bad things in threes?

isnt there an old saying, bad things happen in 3's? or did i make that one up? well ive officially met that barrier and perhaps even crossed it.

it all started friday night, post-jai alai*

* jai alai: a random experience but fun, kind of like racketball with scooped-out looking sticks that you throw the ball with, allowing it to bounce off either the side or back wall, or bounce once on the floor, before you have to hit it back.

we were starving, having been sitting in the empty jai alai stadium contently drinking bud light, watching the ball move very fast, and betting randomly on the teams. suddenly, it was 11pm and no one had dinner yet. we were in the middle of nowhere (read: only strip clubs abounded). so we decided to head back to our cars parked in downtown; i drove us all back, while we tried to find a restaurant,via iphones and blackberries, that was open and could feed us and was not horribly busy so late on a friday night. finally, i got us to our parking lot, kiddies dispersed, and i agreed to drive rachel home en route to the resto. turning a corner, i managed to hop the curb a little (this one in particular, i think ive hopped every single time i go over. i blame it on the poor architectural planning of the curb, or perhaps the bad narrowness of the lane, either way, its happened before with no great shakes). im almost out of gas so before we hit the causeway, i turned off into the bp gas station to fill up. after filling up, i notice the rear right tire is looking a little deflated...

not knowing anything about such things, i get back into the car, content to drive rachel home like this. she is a little more cautious, gets out after i explain to her what's going on, and takes a look. apparently, theres a 2-inch gash in the tire. woops!

"we definitely should not drive on that. you'll bend your rims!"

i have no idea what she is talking about but rachel decides this requires a recommendation from someone with concrete knowledge on the subject. read: a boy. i know, its pathetic. but i really know nothing about cars, and adrian was close by, and is kind of obsessed with his. so adrian advises we call AAA, and stay put.

turns out of course, AAA wont be there for an hour, so adrian comes to the rescue while rachel and i agree that we need dinner. with determination, she stalks into the bp gas station market, and we come out armed with smartfood popcorn, combos, diet sprite, water, and apples.

"this is our second gas station meal together!" she says. yes, it is. but the first one was technically in a tapas restaurant *attached* to the gas station. this one breaks all boundaries.

soon enough, adrian saves the day, puts on my spare (i couldnt even locate it in the car, i kid you not), and then offers to trail me home to make sure i can drive on it ok. such sweet kids from the west coast i tell you. by this point, its probably 12.30am and weve got an early start with pelican island (tbd later) so i bid them farewell.

pt's sad little donut tire is changed monday morning for the total cost of annoyingness + $127.
shitstorm number 1, complete.

the saga continues of course, monday afternoon. i finally went in to see the dr for a physical, and i am told that i happen to have a heart murmur. unclear what this means, and although the dr thinks its nothing bad, i still have this added stress of having to deal with going back for more testing next week, in addition to coming in the next morning to get blood work done. and if you know me, you know i am a total pussy about blood work.

me being me, after finding out about this alleged problem with my ticker, i tromp over to lincoln road, buy kiehl's products, eat a tasti delight (this calls for rainbow sprinkles), and go to boxing class, where i profusely bruise both of my hands in a fit of rage. which may or may not have been contributed to by my poor hand-wrapping skills....

yesterday started off fine, i managed to act like a grown up and not pass out when the nurse took blood, but post-work is when the third incident occurred. at 8.30pm, it was free haircut time with certificates we won at game night several weeks ago, but it took the salon way too long to see us and cut us and get us on our way. running late to game night, i get justin & carla, and we are at the standard, in the parking area, when i slow down to look for spots. at that instant, a cab zooms up behind me, tries to pass me (even though this is a two-way 'street' i.e., parkinglot). i have no knowledge that he's there, so when i dont see a spot, i continue to move forward, whereby the taxi simultaneously cuts in front of me, and bangs up the beloved pt cruiser. w.t.f. thankfully its nothing serious, no one is hurt, but to have to have a taxi driver deny all fault, and blame me for "moving slow"... i mean, really? right now? youre going to say that? in a parking lot?

justin manages to make light of the situation:
"this is all my fault. i really shouldnt have put 'get sideswipped' on my bucket list"
and in the interim, manages to joke around with the police officer while covertly getting all of his information in case we need to file the belated accident report. lawyers are sneaky.

i make my first 911 call, deal with my first car accident, and get annoyed personally at the chauvanistic assholeness of miami police all in one hour. chaos will continue to ensue until we can finally park, and go into game night at 11.30pm. said chaos will also later involve an 8am estimate this morning at a body repair shop where no one speaks english, and yet another one, scheduled for tomorrow. en route to work, i strongly consider jameson.

i'd say that hopefully this will wipe out my bad luck for a while, but you never know. the only good to come out of this week so far is (1) my haircut, (2) i won a pedicure at bingo on sunday, (3) i had a great saturday at pelican island and on the beach, and (4) got to eat justin's leftovers from vacas gordas.

as they say, the true test is how we react in such situations, and im happy to say that we all turned out ok. nothing but support and advice and sweet text messages. i gotta say, though, when its time to give up the pt? this girl may not shed a tear...

xo