Normally I am not wont to read between the lines, look for dark meanings, or harbor conspiracy theories. However, even the dullest amongst us can't help but realize that if you write a blog entry describing why you like living where you do, and the next day, a hurricane strikes your neighborhood and you lose power and probably, the roof of your house, hubris has got you by the short hairs.
I don't know how savvy hubris is about the internet, and whether hubris knows about clicking the links on a pal's blog, but I'm not taking any chances.
I was going to mention how much I'm enjoying the view of Lake Michigan from my living room, and how it's such a gorgeous shade of blue today, and how pretty the sailboats look.
Or how much fun That Studmuffin I Married and I had at the annual Lincoln Park Zoo Ball last night, drinking and dancing and wandering in our black-tie regalia through the big cat exhibit--especially the lionness asleep on her back with her big feet up in the air and her entire belly exposed like a kitten wanting to have its tummy rubbed.
And how miraculous it was that considering the size of the cocktails and the variety of wines with the Wolfgang Puck-catered dinner and the nightcap we had on our way home in the little French restaurant in our building that I did not have a hangover this morning.
And how much I'm looking forward to a pal's birthday bash tonight, because she throws a hell of a party, and their condo has a fantastic long balcony which is so lovely on a summer night.
And that I'm really looking forward to going swimming in our rooftop pool this afternoon.
But I figure if I say all that:
1. My building will implode;
2. My picture will appear in Skyline looking really fat and unphotogenic, with my mouth so wide open that my uvula shows--the caption saying something like "Hippopotamus Enjoys Annual Zoo Ball";
3. I'll be hungover tomorrow, or worse yet on some random day when I haven't had anything to drink the night before;
4. I'll be stuck with the world's biggest bore at the birthday bash, at least one fight will break out, and the balcony will fall off the building;
5. And first, I'll drown in the rooftop pool.