Rummaging around on Tumblr, prospecting for pictures of cute mens,
when I stumbled on a bunch of posts about how your enemy is born 53 days after your birthday. Even for the internet, that seems odd, both the mathematical precision and the outcome. My enemy? Like I’m a superhero with a sworn nemesis? But I’m always willing to play along with whatever unlikely pronouncement the world wide web drops in my lap, so I dutifully counted up 53 days from my burfday (April 5 in case you need to start shopping now) and then looked up who was born on May 28. Turns out my list of potential enemies is pretty drab. Dammit.
The likeliest suspect would be Rudy Giuliani, but I wouldn’t really think of him as an enemy, more as just someone I think is an idiot. The only other name from that day that popped out at me was Kylie Minogue. Kylie! How could that Australian pixie be anyone’s enemy? That’s like taking a firm stance against kittens. No thanks.
In the midst of flailing around to figure out what my birthday plus 53 equals, I accidentally found out that April 5 is 53 days from February 11, coincidentally, the date I blundered into this diabolical plot. It was like some kind of insipid Twilight Zone episode. So apparently I am the enemy of somebody born yesterday. The list of possible victims was even less impressive than my enemies. February 11 is the birthday to a really tragic gang of forgettable actors and musicians and completely random “celebrities.” Jennifer Aniston and Natalie Dormer were the brightest lights and could there be a more innocuous duo? Being Jennifer Aniston’s enemy seems like it would be more trouble than it’s worth. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this whole enemy gig.
This whole Find Your Enemy is simply another kind of horoscope. Whenever some writer assigns a random block of the population a bunch of personality traits or quirks (Adult Children of Alcoholics; Your Sun Sign Picks New Hats for You; Were Your Parents Emotionally Abusive?; Sourdough Recipes for Burnt Out Baby Boomers; New Careers for Cannibals) they’re just repackaging what charlatans have been passing off as divination forever. You figure out which slice of the chart you fit into and then look up the banal idiosyncrasies they pair you with and you gasp at how insightful it all is. I know that sounds skeptical, but that’s just how we Aries roll.
Still, you’d best believe I will keep a watchful eye out for whatever shenanigans Miss Minogue might try to pull on me. She’s tiny, but I hear she’s wiry.
Guys I really hope are not my enemy
Some men just know how to fill out a thermal shirt
And some guys know how to fill out a pair of handcuffs.
That is exactly the red paint I’ve been looking for for years.
Meaty, big, and bouncy.
These boots are made for walkin’/ and that’s just what they’ll do