Sunday, February 19, 2012


I don't believe in curses.

Coming from Cleveland, I suppose I should. Cleveland sports history over the last fifty years or so is littered with unmet expectations and heartbreak. Red Right 88, the Drive, the Fumble, the Shot, Game 7 versus the Marlins, the Decision, Willie Mays's catch... You get the idea.

Well, I have experienced enough of life to know that curses are simply the by-product of suggestion plus selective perception of events. To apply this to the Cleveland sports list I just gave you:
The Cardiac Kids (who were fortunate to even be in the playoffs that year) were playing on one of the coldest days ever for a Browns game, John Elway is John Elway, football drives of over eleven plays often end with a turnover, Michael Jordan is Michael Jordan, Jose Mesa had pitched a lot of baseball by game 7, LeBron James is an ego-maniacal jerk, Willie Mays is Willie Mays.

And so, it is with this in mind that I say my laptop is cursed.

I mentioned in a previous blog post that Stella gave me something that she demanded be returned. That something was my laptop. While the laptop has been good to me, shortly after Stella demanded it back, I broke several keys on it. I recently got it repaired, only to spill something on the keyboard yesterday and break it again.

Now mind you I use a laptop every single day for work, as I have for years. I have eaten in front of the work laptop and traveled hither and thither. I have never once harmed a key or spilled anything on it. And yet, in less than a month I have killed the keyboard of my personal laptop twice. Twice.

And so, I have decided that, despite the non-existence of same, this laptop is cursed. I am going to have the keyboard replaced again and then give the laptop to my sister, as I think the curse is not on the machine but on the combination of me and the machine. All of this leads me to one conclusion: in my heart, I'm still from Cleveland.

Fly Lady Update:

I said I would try to make up for days of inactivity on this front and I did. There is a papasan chair in my bedroom that, like most surfaces other than the bed became a collector of stuff. I went through it and mostly cleaned it. I need the bookshelf that I ordered and a longbox from the comic book store to finish it off, but that was a major step forward. But wait! There's more!

As I said, I was trying to make up for not doing any work on any of this, so I also thinned out my dresser. That may not sound like much until I tell you that I am giving away about thirty t-shirts to charity and I still have an almost full dresser. This was an enormous task. And I have also ranked the shirts so that if I get new ones, I know from where to start to look to get rid of old ones. It's been a day.

Screamin' Jay Hawkins (also from Cleveland, or at least born there).

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