Special Monday Hangover Edition

Happy Mischief Night loyal reader(s).

Yesterday, in a moment of emo-music-ready self-pity, I put up some comments on another website alluding to a curse being on me. And it might be an overreaction.

For one, while emo kids and bands do seem to whine—a lot—the mystical, and things like curses are generally left to Dan Shaugnessy and Power Metal bands that dress up like Dungeons & Dragons conventioneers. Plus, it might be a cop-out and melodramatic on my part.

But first, there is some evidence to a Fall-related curse. Last year, only a few scant months after my car died (which made me consider the idea that maybe the curse was that something bad would happen whenever I was getting to happy in life), I was fired, (not so bad in itself, I was glad for it), and some family troubles got worse, and I got flatly rejected by someone I liked (that I also thought liked me…and it’s possible she did…many months before, when, in my infinite dating wisdom, I decided our schedules were too divergent to date, but didn’t bother really passing that info along to her. Yes, “infinite dating wisdom” should be read with utmost sarcasm.)

The year previous, it was right around Halloween that the wheels fell off with Katy (and, I realize now, there were plenty of warning signs leading up to it, which I was alternately ignorant of, in denial of, and in some cases, blatantly and explicitly told about, and ignored), I was “restaffed” work-wise, and the nice downward spiral of that late winter’s depression started.

At some point in 2003 the buffalo living above my apartment broke, flooding our place (apparently it “rained” in the kitchen—I was stuck working 80 miles away and staying at my parents Sunday-Thursday and only caught the aftermath) and leaving a nice, lung-damaging bit of mold behind. Plus, yet again in my infinite dating wisdom, passed up a golden opportunity to confess how I felt to Amanda, instead passing that chance up to try and date Katy…but neglecting to find out if she was actually single (and, in a move that shouldn’t come as a shock to the viewers at home, no, she wasn’t.)

So that’s the evidence that might support a fall curse (and for 2006, my alternator’s died, my football team’s played like crap more often than not, and this morning I find my mom’s on her way to Mississippi because my Grandfather fell and is spending a bit of time in the hospital.)

And in a way it’d be really nice to lay blame on some esoteric, quasi-mystical, “I have no control over” it bupkus. But I’m not going to. Sometimes bad things happen at certain times of the year; sometimes in close proximity to each other. But a good number of these “bad things” were also a direct result be either dumb action or inaction on my part…not some deranged Hoodooist shaking chicken bones at my effigy thousands of miles away.

So basically I just wanted to vent a little (and now I feel somewhat better—though still plagued by the unpleasant spectors of Self-Consciousness, Self-Doubt and their cousin Thinking Too Damn Much.) But also, it ties in nicely with football.

The other positives post-game?

Coach Richt taking the blame himself, the players saying it was on them.

The recent history of the game and the venue?

Not mentioned. Maybe I’m one of the few, but I think we’re more than capable of winning in Jacksonville. Prior to visor boy’s arrival, Florida wanted to move home-and-home. And, if I can pat myself on the back for working this out structurally so well, the football ties back to the whole curse thing.

Sure, Saturday’s loss stung, and sucked, etc., but there’s a lot of hope for the future there too. And I could fall back on the whole “if bad things happen if I get too happy, I should just give up on being too happy”, but I won’t…because I’ve tried that before, and it’s not entirely a happy time.

In other news, I just might be trotting out a new costume for Halloween after all. If I can find the right accessories this evening, it’ll be a go. If not, my streak of recycling old costumes at least once goes into its third year. Or maybe fourth. I forget.

All those folks saying Michael Vick can’t throw the ball must love the taste of crow.

There’s an election in 8 days, and National Novel Writing Month starts Wednesday. I’m going to try and get some pre-election thoughts out tomorrow, because odds are against me having that level of free time after this Wednesday. So stay tuned.

Oh, and the 10th Anniversery Edition of Infinite Jest comes out this week, with an introduction by Dave Eggers.