Ohemgee.

There is this girl in my band class, she plays oboe like me. She's the first chair, I'm second. My first encounter with her was in seventh grade, when she was in eighth grade. It was All-County, my first ever audition and whatever, and when she made first and I made third, she was like such a bitch to me. And to the second chair too. And I didn't like her. Plus I was very scared that all female oboe players were truly doomed to be bitches. (I mean, look at me...)

And then on the first day of school, here she was in my class and it took me like ten minutes to figure out how I knew her already.

She proceeded to be a complete total bitch for the first quarter but she started getting better by second. We've somehow miraculously become friends, but maybe bitchy oboe players just click I guess.

It has come to my attention that there are two Friday the 13ths in both February and March. I shared this with her.

She gave me some stare that I couldn't figure out. "What," I asked, "is it really that bad of a day for you?"

She was silent for a moment, then said, "My father died on Friday the 13th."

Uhhhhhhhhhhhh......... I floundered. "Oh, my God..." I said. "I am so sorry, oh my God, that's terrible, I am so sorry..."

She just shrugged. "He died when I was five."

I didn't know what to say to that so I settled for nothing. I mean, I love Friday the 13ths because everyone hates them so much and I just don't get it. I mean no one hates those three days or whatever before Easter, nobody hates the day when Eve took a bite from that apple, I mean I just don't get it.

But this girl has a reason to hate Friday the 13th. Could you imagine, what she must go through every single Friday the 13th... God almighty, I really do take a lot for granted... And this begs a bigger question... in the whole big scheme of the world as an apple tart, is this sometimes why she's more tart than apple?

God.