Serendipity Doo Dah

They say things come in threes. Granted, they don’t say that about ordinary things. You don’t take out the trash three times in a row.

Speaking of which, I should get to that. Nah, it can wait. I’m typing right now.

Where was I? Right. “Three” is for weirdness, or extremity, otherwise we wouldn’t notice, let alone start counting.

No, celebrities aren’t dying. This is about Facebook.

Twice in the last week, I’ve been contacted by someone I haven’t seen for decades. Both times it was the daughter of a friend of my mother’s. These are women with whom I hung out when we were kidlings and pretty much haven’t seen since the 1970s. The early 1970s.

Oh, I’m not complaining in the least. What I am doing is waiting. That doesn’t scan, but you know what I mean.

It’s about the threes.

I live by the Comedic Law Of Three. I only put one example in the opening to this post, and that’s making my brain itch, but I forgot to post last week and morning coffee only goes so far. Apparently, this morning’s coffee will only extend as far as a kicky title.

Where was I again? Oh yeah. Weirdness.

Think about it. Having one person pop up out of the past isn’t weird. That’s what Facebook is for. But when two people pop up in such chronological proximity, and with such a bizarrely specific similarity, I find myself holding my metaphoric breath.

One.

Two.

and… who’s next?

Where are you, the girl who invited everyone else in the class to her birthday party? (True story) It won’t be my sadistic orthodontist or sleazy first gynecologist. Uh oh, what if it’s someone from… (horrific gasp) summer camp?!

Just because these two went well doesn't mean the next one will. Fingers crossed while I knock on wood.

With all due respect to every English teacher I ever had who went on about Latin roots and vocabulary, there is nothing serene about serendipity.