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July 26, 2006

Mercury Retrograde ending with a bang

Apparently it's not crazy enough that my teacher keeps getting sick and checking out, that telemarketers are harassing us suddenly, that I keep getting calls from CST about letters I haven't received, that I can't read a simple recipe—it seems that the universe is vying for my attention during this mercury retrograde by sending a 1966 Mustang catapulting into my parked truck in front of my house.

I heard the loud bang of a small wreck in front of the house, then wondered why my car was shaking. Crap. The man driving the mustang, who was on his way to pick up his daughter from school, apologized and explained he was avoiding a blue SUV who was barreling up the street near the center, and had to choose between hitting the SUV and driver or try to get by my car. His judgement—or should I say, his margin of error—was off by about 6 inches, it seems.

His wheel broke off. We exchanged information and he called AAA to get his car towed home.

There are two creepy things about this, in addition to it being a complete pain in the ass. Yesterday I read Black Cowboy, Wild Horses to the class, and a student had asked what mustangs are (the wild horses are central to this story about a cowboy who had a gift for rounding them up). Before I could answer, a girl spoke up and said they were a car. Everyone laughed because it was clear there were no cars in this book. I explained that they named the car after wild horses (well, actually they first named it after the P-51, a US World War II fighter plane, which was probably named after the horses, but close enough). She suddenly remembered the little horse logo on the car, and I had a picture of my all-time favorite car, a '69 Mustang, in my head.

Then, 24 hours later, one broadsides my car.

If my high school crush—the guy who used to drive the '69 Mustang—turns up in the next week, I'll be a little freaked out.

Posted by sedda at July 26, 2006 04:52 PM