Damn, what a night. First some Buffy goodness and then "Real World" throws us NO David's "Come on Be My Baby Tonight." And can Cara be more of a ho? Jesus frickin Christ.

Anyways, back on topic-

So I'm going through this horrible, nasty bit of bad luck. Total born on a bad sign, only thing I can do is sing the blues type of bad luck. Been going through for it for, well, pretty much the entire 21st Century, although it's been especially pretty ugly for the past year or so. I actually go through these spells every once in awhile. Sometimes I go through it for a day or two, sometimes for a week, and sometimes for a long, long time. This has been one of the longest spells I've been on, though.

During these spells, everything I do just goes wrong. Everything I touch falls apart, everything I want doesn't happen, everything I go near collapses. Usually in totally awful, dispiriting and heartbreaking ways. And that doesn't even include all the stuff that I don't expect, but just happens. Like blowing out a back. Or getting evicted at the same time as getting laid off. Or gettting assaulted by half the Santa Barbara high school football team.

Today, I got a couple of messages from some random woman in New Jersey. Apparently, she was trying to get amortgage for a house and upong giving the bank her credit card report, she was turned down. Turns out the company that issued the report smushed her husband's credit card report with mine, so they turned her down for having too much credit out there.

For some reason, I think it's kind of funny. My luck is so bad that I'm capable of sucking other people down into it. I'm like a black hole of bad luck. It's happened before too. It's so bad, in fact, that I think that whenever I get in one of these jags, I should just be sent to a leper colony or something, some place totally far away from everyone and anyone so I can't do any damage to anyone but myself. Once, when I was a kid and my parents had just gotten divorced, my dad was going to take my brother and I to London- our first trip abroad- as a way of making up for all the whole divorce thing. The day before we were supposed to go, Three Mile Island blew and my dad, who was a reporter, had to cancel the trip because he had to go cover the story. There's still a part of me that think's it's all somehow my fault.