That grey cloud is still following me around, hovering just behind my head, waiting for the chance to ruin my day. I was hoping that I had left my bad luck in Europe, where it started several weeks ago. I had not been in Paris for even two whole days when I was pick-pocketed while exiting the stairs of the Metro. (Wallet, cell phone and camera just vanished into thin air.) And just a day before I left for New York, I ripped my big toenail off on the corner of my runaway suitcase. I was hoping that I was leaving my bad luck in Europe along with it. (Said bad luck in Europe includes breaking a tooth in a Paris restaurant, tucking it into the presumed safety of my wallet, and then having the wallet stolen two hours later, among other exciting adventures.)
Once back in California and only a mile from the Pacific Ocean, my still black and blue toe did not keep me from walking the sandy beaches near the Santa Monica pier. I was not even sorry later that evening as my toe throbbed from too much walking in the soft shifting sand. However, I did find it annoying to discover an itchy rash on both ankles a few hours after wading in the summer warmed waves of the Pacific.
I think that little grey cloud follows me still.
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