My Ambulet

I was walking through my neighborhood the other day with a friend. I’d stopped briefly at a new store a few days earlier when I didn’t have much time. It’s on a stretch of East 9th Street that’s crowded with cute boutiques: wedding dresses and antiques, vintage clothing and Wiccan spells. This new shop caught my eye because of its display: a wall of outstretched hands, delicate necklaces dangling from the ceramic fingers. Spread on the tables, boxes of clever rings: a toy car that spans three fingers; a tiny architectural model man, striding confidently; dog heads and dinosaur claws. Each one a stunning sculpture.

On my previous dash in, I’d spotted a knife, its blade glinting appealingly, the whole piece less than two inches long. It was sharp. I scanned the hands, found it and showed it to my friend. “Should I treat myself?” I asked, fastening the clasp behind my neck. “Sure,” she enthused. “It can be your ambulet.” She’d meant amulet but the fragment of her Freudian slip worked; combining amulet with ambulance resulted in ambulet. Perfect!

My “playa handle” is “StAbby.” It wasn’t bestowed upon me, as most playa names are, but was instead inspired by a song I sang at the DPW Talent Show in 2008: “Feelin’ Stabby,” sung to the tune of “Feelin’ Groovy.” I like the lowercase t and cap A, making it a double entendre, both stabby and Saint Abby. The tiny knife certainly looked “stabby.” And I can use all the help I can get.

a small object worn to ward off evil, harm, or illness or to bring good fortune; protecting charm.
1595–1605;  (< Middle French amulete ) < Latin amulētum

For the past bunch of months I’ve been wearing my feather, the one I found my first year of Playa Restoration. I usually take it off when I’m working on my tan in preparation for the desert; I don’t want a big feather-shaped white spot in the center of my chest. The Lilliputian kitchen utensil won’t cause a spot; it’s not only small but light, so it will easily slide around. This little knife isn’t imbued with as much magical juju as my feather is but a talisman is only as powerful as its wearer believes. I will touch it every time I feel my confidence slipping, when the tears are about to start, when I forget to breathe. Perhaps I’ll stop by the witchy-poo store and have them cast a spell on it!
315 East 9th Street
NY NY 10003
424 East 9th Street
NY NY 10009

2 responses to “My Ambulet

  1. Abby…you made my day.
    Smooch & stuff.

  2. all the years i’ve seen you, you are a strong woman!
    in your previous blog (from yesterday) for your apt, if you need someone to help pay/share 🙂 please let me know.
    ( FB)

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