Beware ye faint of heart

Yes, it is that time again. When the anxiety-ridden among us prepare to spend a difficult night fraught with troubling memories.

I speak, of course, about Friday the 13th (as Coyote alluded in his intuitive post of earlier today).

Fear of this day is known as paraskavedekatriaphobia. And we better get used to this poysyllabic syndrome because there are three -- count 'em -- three Friday the 13ths this year. The next one is just a month away, in March, and we're haunted by the spectre of yet another in November.

Apparently fear of this fateful date affects millions of people. The U.S. Navy will not launch a ship on a Friday the 13th. And there are suggestions that accidents actually increase.

A survey by Richard Wiseman, noted in National Geographic, led the British psychologist to conclude that people who have negative feelings about Friday the 13th are likely to be more freaked out and therefore more likely to have mishaps.

In other words, we have nothing to fear but fear of each and every waking minute until midnight tonight.

Heart shaped world

On the eve of St. Valentine's Day, I am pleased that our inimitable Audrey continues her endless honeymoon. Her Top Ten Romantic Things list now stands at thirty items, and counting. She floats on a pink chiffon cloud wherever she goes, stylishly pink-clad feet barely touching the ground. I rather picture her wearing heart-shaped pink sunglasses on her (yes...) romantic trip to Jamaica. It suits her.

However, we coyotes' glowing yellow eyes see things that are not quite so uniformly tickety-boo with others. XUP may be pro - hard to tell, because she ain't dishing much personal - but there's a twist of asperity. Jo's buy-in seemed at one point to be coming and going in (dishwasher) cycles. Megan is bucketing along between righteous sistah militancy and feeling a little more ummn, disheartened. J is flirting with what Jo labels as one of the oldest standard guy "Plan B" lines going.

Now, we coyotes draw our semimythical mojo from cultures considered by some to be based on superstition, or magical thinking. So, we are wont to wonder if it may not have something to do with Valentine's Day chasing hot on the heels of Friday the 13th. What with that, and the big event residing not unadjacent to the scientifically-calculated crappiest day of the year, ya gotta ask if the vibes ain't clashing.

If it weren't for the mountains of chocolate that would go begging, I'd wonder if the whole day was worth... huh.

Woodsy just emailed me a SweeTart. Awww...! I know she hands 'em out to everybody like candy, but suddenly I feel, like, all sweet and warm and smooshy. Maybe even like taking another pre-diabetic look at Zoom's nuzzling kitties and fawns. Must be the tiny perfect sugar hit. Anyway, when that wears off, there's good eatin' at Zoom's blog...