Obviously, pleasure causes disease.
I should write more often. Even if it's bullshit ... need to redevelop my voice, get used to words on a screen (my handwriting's too messy anymore for the on-paper bit), get used to forming sentences in silence. It might be a good idea, like I was mentioning to Geof last night on the phone, to sign myself up for some sort of writing workshop, just to force me to produce something and hold it up for public criticism.
By the way: attitude is everything, I believe. For instance, Friday the 13th, a random event based on a Western European concept and definition of time, is completely a constructed concept. Whether it's unlucky or just another normal day, completely all psychological. I know this. And yet, I hold the conviction deep in my soul that Friday the 13th is my official Lucky Day. Doesn't matter what's planned for it. I don't let bad things bother me on that day, and generally just try to let the day plan itself. Self-fulfilling prophecy: this last weekend was one of the best I've had in a long time. And I didn't even get laid. Really. (Sorry, Buzz-Buzz, I love you but you don't count.)
In fact, the entire weekend was an exercise in canceled or redirected plans and spontaneous happenings, all for the good. Got more drunk on Friday evening than I had been planning, but in the good way. Saturday's Sonic plans got canceled (you still owe me, Dave), but that didn't keep me from having a burger with Geof and then wandering randomly around town, being goofy — exactly the kind of day I'd been missing lately.
Unfortunately, I also have a deep conviction that everything in the universe balances out, including luck. So of course, Sunday and Monday I had to fight against a virus/worm program that had invaded my computer system, despite the supposedly secure defense system (Spybot Search and Destroy, Norton Anti-Virus) I had against this very type of this. Worms are insidious creatures — you try to track them down in your system, think you've deleted them, only to find that they've tricked you and reinstalled themselves somewhere else. Also: they delete all your system restore points, block access to your own system registry, and generally make an ass of themselves in your personal cyberspace. My advice: don't get one. It's stressful.
Ended up spending the entirety of Monday evening moving things over to my other hard drive and wiping clean my entire Master drive &mdash complete reformat and reinstall. As I slowly begin to reinstall four years' worth of programs and settings (the last time I reformatted my hard drive was when I built this computer ... before that, college), I rediscover all the things I lost in my frustrated rush to get rid of that monster: Outlook contacts, pirated programs, bookmarked favorites ...
To the people who write these nasty programs: I hope your children die of tapeworms, and that you die of hypothermia. Seriously. Fuckers. If I ever find out your names I'll do my Tarot-Gypsy-Jewish magic on you, and oh boy, will you ever suffer.
Still doesn't make me want to switch to a Mac, though. Not one whit.
At least 2009 looks to be a good year for me. Friday the 13th comes up three times this year, and the first run-through went quite well. Can't wait until next month, since it's the day right after my birthday (also a day I consider "lucky").