What are the odds?

For those of you who don't know, about five years ago I was a contestant on "Wheel of Fortune." And for those of you who don't get that reference, "WoF" is a popular, long-running game show in the US where contestants spin a wheel and attempt to solve a word puzzle by guessing letters. It was a successful adventure, all told. Though I wasn't the big winner, I did win enough money to pay off my car and I won a trip up the California coast on the back of a Harley Davidson. That was cool.

What made me think of this little nugget in the Katie chronicles? I was pondering the idea of luck. I say I am lucky all the time, and I am. Lucky to live in Europe, where I don't have to live with the conservative majority on the US Supreme Court, lucky to work in a place where I can thrive, lucky to know such creative and funny people, lucky that I come from a family of fighters, lucky that my boyfriend reads more than I do but is nice enough to let me tag more books on goodreads (because it is the nerdiest competition ever), and lucky to be aware that I am lucky.

But there is a strange poignancy to luck too. Tonight, as I stopped at a red light, I looked on the light post and saw a sticker that said "Bitterzoet" with a horrid logo accompanying the word. And I know enough Dutch to know that means, "Bittersweet," and I connected enough dots to think, "Jeff had a company called "Bittersuite" and he would HATE that logo." And I smiled because I am lucky enough to have gathered experiences that make me react to that stupid, random sticker when most people would ride right past. Sometimes the things I tend to bury are the things that bring meaning. And if you are open, you see meaning everywhere.

This summer is my 20 year high school reunion. I did a Google search, found the web site for the event and was amazed at how happy I was to see photos and read updates from people I knew then -- to be honest, I have far more memories of people in middle school than high school and I am lucky (there it is again) that most people who have posted updates are people I knew from those earlier years. Ten years ago I was so defensive and afraid to go to the reunion for some reason. I honestly can't remember why, but I was a million forms of brittle then. Now? Not so much. I wish I could go back for it because I realize that these people - these hundreds of people (big class) -- have a strange finite period of time in absolute common with me and I have to believe that they have lost some of the defensive bullshit just like I did. It would be great to just sit and ask for details. To see photos of children, to congratulate success, commiserate about failure and to talk about new beginnings. I don't care if I knew them in high school or not!

We are all lucky. We all defy the odds in some way. Maybe getting through the defensive bad times and emerging grateful on the other side is what luck is all about. That and knowing when to buy a vowel.