I’ve had some dark days over the years, very real moments in my life when I’ve had to ask the universe, “WHY?” But I had a revelation today in which I had the great fortune to find something that not many people ever discover, especially at a relatively young age like I did. I have discovered my purpose in life.
I am here on Earth to serve as a warning to others. I am a proverbial head-on-a-London-bridge-pike. Listen to my tales of woe and learn from my misfortune.
When I was three, I ate some kind of weird insanity-pepper because my brothers told me it was a cherry popsicle. I think it actually scarred the inside of my mouth. I learned that my brothers are assholes and I’m not really all that smart. And that my parents are psychos who grow insanity peppers in their garden.
At eight years old, I learned never to listen to my dad because he gave me a plastic garbage sack and told me to amuse myself by picking up litter. I reached out and grabbed a dull metal cannister that happened to be an Army-issue smoke grenade and burned the snot out of my hand. Who the heck leaves those things lying around?
The summer before sixth grade my feet had a growth spurt while the rest of my body did not, and I seem to recall that just one foot grew a lot bigger at first and the other one had to catch up to it. Who knew that could happen? I spent pretty much the entire school year face down in various places and my mom had to send a note asking the office to call her if I fell down any more so she could have me evaluated for epilepsy.
Oddly enough, middle school wasn’t too bad but by high school I learned that giving your kids weird names like Lorca means all the teachers are going to call the child “Orca” on the first day of school because the idiot in the office left off the first letter of her name by mistake. Trust me on this, name your kid Sam. Boy or girl, doesn’t matter.
By high school graduation, I ate what was possibly Mad Cow Disease-ly tainted beef and therefore cannot give blood anymore because I was contaminated. Congratulations, I can no longer donate a vital organ, either, even after I’m dead.
Ladies and gentlemen, that was just my formative years. Random weird crap has been happening to me ever since then, crazy things that make people think, “Seriously? What exactly were you doing when a piece of the Space Shuttle landed on your head?” This stuff keeps happening to me because I am alive just to be a professional cautionary tale. My entire life is meant for others to sit back and watch what happens to me. It’s like being a whipping boy, only my suffering comes from being strip searched in three different airports for traveling to the Middle East without any luggage but coming home with luggage. It’s a long story.
Lorca Damon 
I totally agree with you about the name thing. I don’t have anything as exotic as Lorca, but I do have a name that is spelled SLIGHTLY different from the norm and so has to be a point of conversation whenever anyone reads it. Usually because they pronounced it wrong. It’s just Jeanne, not Jane, Jen, Jenny, Janey, or Jee-Anne.
Of course, that’s only one story in my “warning to others” life. Maybe we should all start a misfortune blog!
Don’t get me started! :~) My parents KNEW better, but nooooo, being named after a Spanish poet makes you “cool.”
Weren’t you the one who showed up in the emergency room with a broken collar bone after a really large snake crawled across the bike path in front of you? You stopped suddenly and flew over the handle bars. I seem to remember reading that … WOW. I think there is a gypsy named Madam Rose over by the Mall who guarantees to remove curses.
It was a very large snake. Anaconda sized. If I had run over it, it would have launched me into the next county.
I have always said I would never run out of interesting stories to tell. If I had led a “normal” life I’d just be boring I am sure. This way I am the eccentric old cat lady down the street. 😉
Ardee-ann
Lorca, I thought I was the only person alive sent to be a horrible warning to those around me. I guess I am not alone. Just one example, when I was younger I was in several automobile accidents which were never my fault. My mom used to say that people would come from out of town “just to run into me.” At one point in my life it seemed true. I am still very cautious on the road because other drivers seem to be pointing their vehicles my direction while they are on the Zero to 70 in 10 seconds lift off.
I am also an accident waiting to happen in many other ways. Let’s just say I am not graceful.
My mother named me Ardee which I love but it rhymes with unfortunate words too. Elementary school was hell. Somehow I survived junior high and high school by being a “rebel with a cause” and daring others to mess with me. They didn’t, for the most part.
Yes, I am a terrible example and a horrible warning to those around me. It is an interesting life isn’t it.
Ardee-ann
But people like you and me make it work! We can turn our misfortune into interesting blog posts. If nothing else, the scars are a whole fun story!