It is so winter right now. And it’s so cold. And all the leaves are brown and the sky is gray, as usual. And I’m sick of it.

I wanted to go with him, I really did. But one thing led to another, as usual, and I was left behind in Gray Sky Chicago. Dred went to L.A. without me, I’m sure.

Maybe I should explain.

I am the most unlucky girl in the world. I mean, ever. And it’s partially my mother’s fault and partially my father’s fault.

Long story short: I was born on Friday the Thirteenth. You may think that’s not my mother’s fault, but she was induced, so yes, she chose my birthday. Then, it was raining on Sunday when we went home from the hospital, and my father wanted to keep me dry. So even though my mom tried to stop him, he opened the umbrella inside. I’d so rather have gotten wet.

I could tell you my unlucky sob story, with all the significant and insignificant details, like how I broke my leg while sleeping when I was 8 months old, how I broke every single plate in my mother’s china just by eating on it, how my folks died in a plane crash when I was twelve (yeah, how often does that happen?), how I went to live with my Wicked Step-Aunt, how my Wicked Step-Aunt kicked me out last year, how I lived with three different friends, and how they all turned out to be losers.

But I won’t; that’s just my luck. Bad things frequently happen to me. I’ll just try to explain why I didn’t go to L.A. with Dred.

I guess I’ll start at the beginning, as usual. (more…)