Friday the 13th, Baby

It only happens once every few years, but it’s a time that best represents who I really am. Because not only was I born on February 13th, I was born on Friday the 13th on a day much like today.

Except, though it was in the midst of a drought similar to the one we are currently experiencing, the rain was finally falling. Also the moon that night was at its roundest, fullest strength. Also, my mom’s name is Rosemary (that’s still true, of course).

That’s right. I’m literally Rosemary’s baby, you guys. No joke.

scary emily

When I was younger, I was partially afraid that somehow I had been fated for something horrendous, terrifying, and brutal. And sometimes when I’m alone and get the creeps, I still do get that feeling. After all, it ain’t over ’til it’s over.

However, for the moment it seems enough that I have a propensity for horror movies, true crime shows, and other oddball spooky things. But let me tell you, it’s a pretty great set of facts to pull out at parties or around teenagers that I want to scare into respect.

So tonight, if you spend any time drinking beer, watching horror movies, or preferably both, I hope you think of me.

Standing right behind you with a chainsaw and my pupils fully dilated.

 

 

 

 

Just kidding.

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