badatapologies: (criswell predicts)
I for one would like to thank one Professor Gordon Sumner for introducing me to the Jungian concept of synchronicity back in what, 1983? He (along with Prof. LeBon, Yachting Theory 210) also introduced me to the concept of horribly bleaching one's hair, although I took the expression literally and soaked my head in a bucket of Clorox household bleach for an hour, which may explain why I'm already getting off topic here.

Anyway, yes, the little synchronicity string. Last night I sat here and reminisced about experiencing an earthquake in the Bay Area, and 12 hours later almost to the minute, I experienced an earthquake in the Bay Area. But it gets weirder, my friends.

My aunt called this afternoon from Phoenix for our weekly middle-aged lady gossip-fest. Then we had the following conversation.

"We just had an earthquake here," quoth I. "It was tiny but it scared the crap out of me."

"God, I hate that," my aunt said. "I remember when I was pregnant with Shawn (her son/my cousin), we had this great big one, I was working on the 10th floor in downtown San Francisco and the place shook so bad, the roof started to come apart and it scared me so much I went into premature labor, I almost delivered the baby right there."

Knowing how old my cousin Shawn is--he's 28--I suddenly had a weird realization. "Wait," I said. "When was this?"

"Summer of '79," she said. "Probably August."

Yes, my friends, the earthquake that shook my aunt into false labor was the same earthquake I blogged about yesterday, the one that shook my little trailer and sent my cute boy crush running to my rescue. August 6, 1979. I was up here that summer. The thing is, at that point, my aunt and I had never met, we didn't even know each other existed, and we're both from Phoenix so there's no logical reason we'd both happen to be up here. But apparently we were, and it took us 28 years to figure it out.

"Wow, that's so weird," said my aunt. "What were you doing up here?"

"I was in Pleasanton, my mom was running horses at the Alameda County Fairgrounds and I stayed with her that summer."

She gasped. "Your dad lived in Pleasanton for a few years in the 70s! You had to have been there at the same time!"

And apparently we were, though I didn't meet him until several years later and I'm sure my mom had no idea he was there, they didn't speak for 15 years. I'd like to think if we passed on the street, my mom would have noticed him and said something, but who knows. Both my mom and my dad were so weird. And it's so strange, given the sort of tragic end of my dad's life and the way we were kept from each other for so many years, that we were in so many of the same places at the same time, unknowingly walking in each others' footsteps.

Busy days right now. Waiting patiently on various big bits of news and meetings re the film, meanwhile working to exhaustion at the animal shelter. My friend J's out of town so I'm alone here for a few days, which gives me way too much time to be melancholy. It's been a very uncomfortable year. But I do get the sense things are about to change.

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badatapologies

August 2009

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