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I fully admit to being sassy, self-centered, bossy, opinionated, and quirky.

Go ahead and add superstitious to the list of adjectives and you have a fairly complete picture of me on any given day.

I’m one of those people who whenever I hear of another’s tragedy, I think to myself, “That could be me.”   I feel like if I can imagine myself in the tragedy, then it WON’T happen to me.   It seems like whenever you hear about something awful happening, the victim says “I never thought something like this would happen to me,”  so by thinking it COULD happen to me is like some sort of bubble barrier against the big, bad, scary world. 

I knock on wood.  A LOT.

On our wedding day, I refused to let Tate see me before the wedding.  I know lots of couples have pictures taken before the wedding for convenience or because they have to vacate the church/synagogue/hall right after the wedding.  I would have MOVED the location of my wedding if I would have had to see Tate before the wedding.

We got married at 4:30 in the afternoon on the UPswing of the clock.  I didn’t want to start our life together on the DOWNswing of the clock’s hands.

It occurs to me when I’m walking on a sidewalk that I should avoid the cracks.  I mean, I don’t want a broken back since I’m a MOTHER now you know.

I would never purposely open an umbrella in a house, nor would I ever walk under a ladder.  That’s just ASKING for trouble.

If I see a penny?  I pick it up!!  And all day long?  I have good luck!

There are superstitions that to me are just plain silly (unlike those above because THOSE!, those are NECESSARY.)  I don’t eat black-eyed peas for luck on New Year’s Eve because, EWWWW!  I don’t believe that not sending chain letters or those RIDICULOUS chain emails will bring me bad luck.  Friday the 13th doesn’t scare me, neither do black cats.

What are you superstitious about?