Addiction

minesweeper failed with 98 of 99 bombs found
I hate minesweeper.

I can’t stop. Quitting smoking was easier than this. Once I move my mouse to the icon and double click to start playing, my entire night is wrecked, and so is my mousing hand. Seriously, I can’t stop playing. Even if I close the game and leave the computer to go do something else, for hours I’m still playing the game in my head. I see those goddamned squares when I’m talking to someone and all I can do is try to solve puzzles that don’t actually add up. It’s ridiculous how addicted I am to this.

The insult to the injury is that Minesweeper is so 1998. I think I’ll seek some counselling and maybe go to a Tetris clinic to get me down from this.

Sunshine and Birds

Happy Zombie Jesus Day.

Nice and warm today, and I’m out and about on foot. Should’ve worn a hat. Springtime here in Austin is a beautiful, beautiful time. The birds come out and show their colours. And boy, how they shine. It was cold and wretched yesterday, and the lack of a crowd at Pease park was incredible. I was able to walk around without dodging unleashed dogs or ducking for cover from errant frisbee golf discs.

Got a call from my chiropractor yesterday (unorthodox, given it was Saturday). She left a message announcing that my doctor’s clinic has decided to kick her out and replace her with a physical therapist. That’s a condemnation on her, to be sure, but I wonder what the true reason is.

Maybe she’s not performing to the business metrics required by the clinic, like keeping up rental contributions on the exam room, keeping a certain quantity of clientelle, making sure the number of reschedules and days out are below a limit. Maybe the clinic, in hiring her and the acupuncturist, made a grab at “embracing the eastern medicines” for holistic therapy, but now in this current market all the white people are shedding their need to spend money on the frou-frou stuff. I dunno.

What I do know is that she fixed my back and gave me a few methods to strengthen myself against further problems. I do feel some allegiance to go back to her at her new solo practice, but given the uneven ride thus far, I’m not sure if I should cut and run, passing the buck onto my insurance company’s support of her services, or just keep going.

I’ll return her call Monday and talk to my insurance carrier to see if my visits will still be covered. But even then, at $30 copay per office visit, it’d be a tall order to actually visit her as often as she’d like. I’m not made of money.

Speaking of money, the paycut I got a few months ago is starting to affect me. I’ve gotten some money on the side here and there (like the check from when the kid backed into my car), and soon I’ll be getting my tax return, but no matter where I cut corners, I’m just above breaking even, and that’s scary. May 27 is my 24-month anniversary at my job, and nobody but Volt and my client’s HR department know if they will honor my latest extension to August or if they’ll walk me out the door next month. Looking at my bank balance, I seriously hope they let me stay around.

I picked up the new U2 album “No Line on the Horizon”, and I’m giving it a spin right now. I like it so far. I may make a review later.

Behold the Sound

Ladies and Gents, it is with great pleasure that I announce the overdue release of Anal0g.org’s Wires 6 compilation, featuring a track by yours truly. Go there and download the album now before the bytes run out (if you don’t know how to save a zip file and play the mp3s inside, get your daughter to do it for you).

I say overdue because the compilation is, for the first time ever, 5 months late. There were certain confounding factors that all added up to the major delay. The last call for submissions was Halloween of last year. Some of us barely got our tracks in under the wire; however, most of the artists didn’t turn in their stuff until well after the deadline, which delayed the production schedule.

The tracks were then handed off to a volunteer member of the anal0g.org crew who had the skill and equipment to properly master everything for volume, punch, and presence. Well, he took his time. And our time. And everybody else’s time. But finally he finished everything and sent the polished tracks back to be packaged and presented.

I got the message yesterday that the compilation was finished and posted and I’ve been listening as much as possible. So far, I’m really digging the music. Some inventive stuff on here; the future of electronic music, I think. Give it a spin and give a shout.

Motion of the Ocean: to the Sea, to the Salt, to the Sinuses.

I was out sick for two days last week; came down with some sinus respiratory thing that’d been plaguing me for the past month. Remnants of the girl cooties I picked up. It settled down two weeks ago, but then a few shots of alcohol threw the bacterial balance off and it got worse over the next few days. Saw the doc Tuesday, got the amoxycillin. Doc recommended something non-antihistamine to help with the symptoms. I was like, “what, you mean like one of those Neti pots?” “Exactly.” So tonight, I bought one.

Now I hate my doctor.

Sure, I can breathe through my nose now. Mostly. I could do that before. But now there’s a slightly burning sensation…and the permanent taste of salt, baking soda, and snot in my mouth and throat. Gag. I think it would’ve been better had I shaken up a carbonated water bottle and jammed it up my nose. Sure, I know it’s my first time to the dance and with practice I can develop the technique, but I had absolutely no grace about it. The stuff that ran down the back of my throat collected in my mouth and came out as salty drool. It’s like I devolved back to my infant form. Absolutely no grace, absolutely no class.

Given that I paid twelve bucks for this damn thing, I may as well finish out the 30 packets of “dry solution mix” provided with it. I can’t believe they’re selling this, but people are buying it…and swearing by it. My coworker got one when he was out sick; swears by it. Doc swears by it. It seems to be the In Thing now. And all the white people go “it’s from Finland/Holland/Scandanavia, so it’s got to be good! Let’s dose up, blow out, and then go to Ikea!”

Me? I can’t swear by it. I’ll just stand next to it…and swear.