I was born on Friday 13th, 45 years ago. This Friday, to be precise. When I learned that it is supposed to be a “bad luck” day, I thought to myself “that makes sense, considering…”.
I am not superstitious, but whenever I reflect on my life so far, I do think the same still, although in some respects I am among the lucky ones. But depression does not lend itself to dispassionate analysis.
Anyhoo, this year the world burns, again, and it keeps getting worse. Hooray.
Congrats. Or condoleances. Whatever suits you better.
I agree, it won’t get any better.
I am also a 13th Friday child.
I’m exactly one month older than you, kiddo. Ya runny-nosed kid. Ya infant of Prague.
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Conga-Rats!
Well it was a lucky day for us, so congratulations!
Seconding Jazzlet. Belated happy birthday.
My best friend got married on a Friday the 13th and the marriage is approaching 40 years.
Thirding Jazzlet and seconding Giliell! Congratulations!
At that day I was a little kid who may have got his first tooth at last (I got it at 1 year 8 months, so that’s quite close to Charly’s birthday).
There were some ppl on twitter saying Friday 13 is only the “unlucky” day because Xtians wanted to discourage people from celebrating the pagan Freya day (which was about fucking). Wholesome.
I was born on Tuesday the 13th, but turned 13 on Friday the 13th.