As whole, I think superstitions are bullshit. But I've got my own little irrational notions that I've proved in my head with very unstable, unscientific methods. Basically, it involves a certain conviction of opinion: once you solidify an idea, and then doubt it for a second, luck wills that worry into existence.
You know what I mean. I completely jinx things. Something along the lines of, "Dude, I need a Dr. Pepper like how Bush needs to be pelted with shoes. Pull over at that Taco Bell."
Then whoever is driving says, "Do they have Dr. Pepper there?"
"Of course they do, Pepsi products, man." And then I fear, for a fraction, that they won't. Inevitably, that fear becomes reality, and I'm informed that this is the only Taco Bell that does not carry Dr. Pepper.
It's like when you meet a guy who can keep up with whatever Who's on First? routine you're pitching that day, and instead of introducing you to his girlfriend as "this hilarious girl," he actually seems single, and interested in you. And then Gyna yells "make out" several times, as if we're in college, and it doesn't scare him away.
So you later tell Gyna, "That guy is frakkin' awesome. Seriously, he dominates. And honestly? I think he actually likes me," but then it hits you, "But he prolly doesn't."
"Oh, shut the fuck up and just go back there and talk to him," Gyna whines, "and MAKE OUT." So you meander back over to him, and sho' nuff, he starts asking you probing, relationship-seeking questions *about one of your Hot Friends.
So what I'm trying to say is this: Fuck you, Chicago, and all of your peoples.
Because the weekend after Christmas, it was sixty goddamn degrees outside. And collectively, the citizens of Chicago woke up, smiled, and thought, "I cannot believe how warm it is. I am so glad it's not cold today. Oh, please don't get much colder. I am optimistic that our remaining winter weather situation will mirror these current atmospheric conditions. This is crazy awesome. But it prolly won't last..."
And the gods of luck heard this sincere cry of sanctity and surprise and said, "Well, let's give them another incredulous kick in the balls" and spent the next three weeks mustering up this insane cold-as-balls front to throw over the city.
So that's why, today, in this fine city, it is NEGATIVE NINETEEN DEGREES WITH A NEGATIVE FORTY WIND CHILL.
I have places to walk today, man. And I like the cold. Not this, though.
Yeah. Like I said. Fuck you, Chicago. Never do that shit again.
*This is a very common tactic that dudes employ, befriending me, so when they go after the Hot Friends, I encourage the hook up. Don't think I don't know, you dickheads. Of course, the problem with this is, after so many occurrences I'm completely jaded, and I automatically assume all guys want one of the Hot Friends and throw up an instant emotional shield, thereby thoroughly blocking any chance I had with someone who actually wants to talk to me.