Don't tempt fate

Seriously. Don't do it. Don't ever hope for anything good in your life. It just won't happen. Oh, it will look like it will, but then at the most gut wrenching time, your dreams will be crushed.

And those patterns to relationships you thought you both outgrew? Pffft. Of course you didn't. It just seemed like you did so that when they finally reappear, it is at the worst possible time, and pretty much guarantees that said relationship is irreparable.

If you look to the left, you will see a sad woman.

Search over?

The time stamp at the bottom of this entry does not lie. It is 2:48 in the morning. And I can't sleep. Again. Some more.

But this isn't random insomnia. I don't want to jinx it, but it looks like I have found a condo that fits all my criteria, and I'm going to be putting in an offer in the next day or so. I'm scared, and excited, and nervous, and panicked and lots of other stuff. So that's why I can't sleep.

Send me your good vibes. I really like this one. This could be home.

It's lash-tastic!

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I love makeup. The crazier the colour, the better. I'll try anything. That vibrant aqua colour? I've got it and four others kinda like it. Sparkly pink liner? Count me in, it'll go great with my hot pink shadow. But I've never worn false lashes before because I just didn't do that much with my lashes period. Until recently, I didn't always wear mascara but after an old coworker yelled at me when she heard that, I've always got it on. Yesterday I went for a makeover and Vivian, the makeup artist asked if she could put some on, and as I trust her, I told her she could do whatever. I nearly passed out when she took the eyelash curler to me, and she kept asking if I was okay when she was putting the lashes on, because I kept grimacing. But after all that, when I stood back to take a look, I was blown away.

My eyes looked fantastic! My lashes went on for miles, and they actually didn't look fake. I finally understood why men swoon when women bat their eyelashes. The best part was that I felt like a total diva. I called out for someone bring me a martini and some bonbons, and for the rest of the day, I kept sneaking looks in any reflective surface just to catch a glimpse of my awesome lashes.

Now today, as I look in the mirror at my pathetic and non-false natural lashes, I can't help but feel I look funny.

Suddenly the notion of getting eyelash implants doesn't seem quite so ridiculous.

I'm also clumsy

On top of my idiocy, I have this knack for ungainliness that is just awesome. I make Bambi trying to walk on ice for the first time look downright graceful. This morning, I ground up some coffee beans, and then promptly dumped half of them all over my arms, my feet, and the kitchen floor.

Stormy once said of me "Mabel: She puts the 'ass' in classy."

Truer words were never spoke.

Oh hey, did I mention I'm an idiot?

Just checking. But in case you needed yet another example, here it is.

I was invited to attend a girls night at the apartment of a friend of mine last night, an apartment I'd never been too. So, being the anxious dweeb I am, I scouted out the route on the good old TTC four days in advance. Then I checked again a day later, and twice more yesterday. I committed the directions to memory, and made lengthy notations in the memo pad on my cell, Snowball II, all about what streets I need to pass, and what streets I shouldn't pass or else I've gone too far. Yeah, I know, I'm certifiable. Anyhow, I was sure that all I needed to do was go to Davisville Station, and catch the Bayview 11 bus, and the rest would be easy.

(Pause for dramatic effect)

Again, to reiterate, I'm an idiot, so of course it wasn't that easy.

I get to the station, and get on the bus, and keep my eyes peeled for the street names. Note that I'm not looking for the numbers, oh no, because that would make some kind of sense. And my logic does not resemble your earth logic. Hell no. So I'm looking and looking, and not seeing the streets I need to. A creeping dread is developing in the pit of my stomach. Then all of a sudden, I'm at Eglinton, which a quick look at my notes on Snowball II confirms is way past where I need to be. So I jump off the bus and look around, when it dawns on me that the address on the building in front of me is 1787. And, in case you aren't mathletes, is pretty damn far from the address of my friend, which is in the 1300s. I did that math in my head. Impressed? So I start hauling ass, trekking down Bayview, in the hopes that I will be able to get there before I'm so late that some guests might be leaving. After a bit, I realize that Mount Pleasant Cemetery is coming up, and then, I look to my left, and I see that I'm finally at my friend's place. A split second later, I realize that I recognize the building. And I should, because my aunt lived in the same complex. For over 4 years.

That's right. Despite lots of planning and map checking, I got lost on my way to a place I have been dozens of times before.

Later, at home, I check my work again, trying to see where I went wrong, and it turns out that the Bayview bus never even passes by my friend's place. I read the map wrong. Over and over.

Tremble at my intellect.

Sigh.

All quiet on my front

I've been kinda silent lately. I guess I'm just not feeling it, the whole writing thing. Or maybe I'm just tired from spending too much time looking for condos to buy. I don't rightly know.

Yeah, you read right. I'm gonna be entering the real estate game. Table Mabel's gonna own property. First, condo fees; then, enslavement of the entire world. Mwahahahaha! Picture me tenting my fingers in the pyramid of evil.

Over the past week, I've spent lots of time pouring over the internets, trying to find a one bedroom condo, with a balcony, in a nice, friendly neighbourhood that is near-ish to the subway and that I can afford. Oh, and it has to be "safe" according to my parents. So don't even bother suggesting that I move into a tent in the middle of Cracktown. And, I pretty much need to move, like, yesterday. I know, I'm gonna have better luck finding a leprechaun. Sigh. But I love a challenge and I'm gonna do it, even if it kills me. The thought of a washer and dryer of my very own has me salivating.

The Jaded Club

I have an admission to make. I'm jaded and proud of it. But while I have no problem with the way I am, I would like to "be with my own kind". You know, hang with people who have the same tendency for continual cynicism. As such, I'm creating a club for the jaded, where we can get together and celebrate our dearth of hope. I'm hoping some of you feel the same way, so I've enclosed the application package, in case you'd like to join.

**********************************************

Dear Applicant,

The Jaded Club thanks you for your interest.

We are always on the lookout for promising new members to join us in our continual state of cynicism. However, you must understand that we are an exclusive club, and as such, have exacting standards to which we must hold our members. Just being jaded is not enough.

Please answer the questions that follow at the bottom of this communication, and your membership application will be evaluated. Note that we thank all applicants for their interest, but only the candidates who have been selected for a follow-up interview will be contacted.

Regards,

Table Mabel
President and Founder, The Jaded Club


The Jaded Club Membership Application Form

1. Do you make snide comments when witnessing any public display of affection?

2. Do you think that a white knight will come and rescue you?

3. How tolerant are you of the general public?

4. Are you convinced that there is no one out there for you?

5a. Have you ever dreamt of being Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?

5b. Would you punch someone who has?

Complete the following sentences:

6. The best thing about being jaded is _____________________.

7. Love _____________________________.

Pick the most correct answer:

8. What word would best describe you?
a) melancholic
b) cynical
c) world-weary
d) jaded

9. People, as a general rule _______.
a) are idiots
b) are morons
c) suck chunkers
d) chafe my ass

10) In 30 words or less, describe what you would bring to The Jaded Club:

Let's get a few things of my chest, shall we?

Here are just some random things that are driving me bazoo:

Does it really take 8 people to pick out a bottle of pancake syrup? Do you all need to be closely involved in this decision and in doing so take up three aisles in the grocery store? For 15 minutes?

*********

We're in North America people. We drive on the right side. We also walk on the right side. This applies to whatever/wherever you're doing it, be it an escalator, a sidewalk, a platform, or a hallway. If there is no one coming in the opposite direction, feel free to walk in zigzags if your heart so desires, but if you aren't alone, get the hell over the right side now!

*********

When I'm struggling to open the door while holding my many grocery bags, I'm actually not doing it so that you can ram into me and knock me off balance just to make it through first and then let the door slam in my face.

*********

Most city sidewalks are about wide enough to fit two, maybe three people abreast. It's delightful that you have a litter of children, but I don't enjoy having to all but climb onto newspaper boxes so that you can pass by whenever you'd like. They have strollers for two (or more) children that don't take up 5 feet of space across, and instead only take up the space of one person, so that other people can use streets too. Look into it.

*********

What the hell is up the horrendous state of the streets and sidewalks in this city? They are a messy combination of broken cobblestones, uneven pavement, slanty sidewalks, cracks and jagged gravel. Are you trying to make me wear ugly and "practical" shoes? Or is it me with a broken ankle, torn acl and smashed in teeth you are after?

*********

Lady, despite what you may think, I am actually allowed to have my purse stand out 2 inches from my shoulder. See, we have this concept of there being a tiny amount of personal space that surrounds a person, a space which should not ever be entered, unless you have been given explicit permission or are performing life saving cpr. So if you can't find a way around it, despite the four feet of space between me and that display of condiments, then you shouldn't leave your house. Ever.

*********

And finally, to the jackhole who buzzed me in the hopes of getting into the building at 5:42 this morning, 40 minutes after I finally fell asleep, I hope you get the plague.

There. Now I feel better.

For me? The times, they are a changin'

So, remember when I said that I had a sugar daddy who was going to keep me in my lovely apartment during the upcoming three years of school? Well, I still do have a sugar daddy, but the sugar daddy has had some second thoughts, and it turns out that it is no longer desirable for me to stay in my sweet, wonderful apartment.

Oh, don't worry. I'm not getting turfed onto the street or anything. But it looks like I have to move, probably soon.

So, instead of feeling all cozy here now, I find myself looking around at the life I've collected and just seeing stuff I need to pack. And it doesn't quite feel like home here any more.

Me so cranky

I've been cranky as all get out recently. I don't rightly know why. Well, I know why I was cranky yesterday - stupid atmospheric pressure making my head feeling like it is both imploding and exploding at the same time - but other than that, I have no bloody idea. Okay, the lack of edible food in my apartment might also have something to do with it. Yeah, I said 'edible food'. I've got lots of elements of food, but nothing that would combine to make an actual meal. I've got pasta but no sauce. Lettuce but no veggies. Bagels but nothing to put on them. Coffee but no milk. I'm almost down to nothing. I've eaten all the tarragon and drunk all the soy sauce. Mostly? I think I just feel like I'm in limbo and I don't like to limbo. I'm easy but not flexible.

Question:

Am I a bad person because I want to bundle Rebecca Eckler up and ship her to Antarctica so that I never have to hear her insipid comments again?

And here's a followup: When the hell did Rebecca Eckler become "one of Canada's most popular journalists and writers"?

Wanna know what's a really stupid idea?

Staffing the ice cream store on a gorgeous, summer-like afternoon, when kids are out of school and people are walking around with only ONE person. It's not like the weather has been crappy recently or anything, so why can't you maybe have two people so I don't have to wait in a lineup of 20 people for my scoop of red raspberry sorbet?

Paranoid much?

http://www.thestar.com/News/article/211189

I'd make a joke about how it was probably the poppy (opium! Afghanistan! The war on terror!) that got this whole thing rolling, but sadly, I'd probably be right.

Aw yeah!

I went for a walk today and came back with my first sunburn of the year. Just a slight reddish tinge to my shoulders, nothing too bad or painful, but it just makes me feel all tingly inside. Summer's almost here!

Shout out!

Last week, I met up with an old co-worker for coffee. And aside from being able to spend some quality time with my true love caffeine, it was really good to see him. I saw him almost every day for over three years, and it has been pretty odd these past months not to see him pop over for a chat or to take something from our candy drawer.

But seeing him also made me a little sad. He reminded me of what I really miss about work (besides the paycheque! Thanks, I'll be here all week. Try the veal.) and that is my co-workers. I worked with some of the most fun, most interesting, most helpful and most skilled people. They made coming in to work every day if not delightful, then at least bearable. They didn't mock me for my random, weird dancing to music that was only in my head. Or if they did, it wasn't to my face. I doubt I'll be as lucky again.

So, to you in particular, Pelowpages, and to all my old work cronies in general, thanks for all the good times, and just for you, I'm doing a lovely version of the sprinkler.

Example #4792 of my idiocy

I'm getting ready to head out, and I reach for my compact to check my makeup. But for some reason I can't actually see my face in the mirror. After a few seconds, it finally registers. I didn't pick up my compact, but an eyeshadow container. I stared into the lid of an eyeshadow container and wondered why I couldn't see my reflection.

I'm so stupid.

Minty AND chewable?

Man, it is so great that science has found cures for all disease and solved all our major problems, cuz I've had to put up with a birth control pill I have to take with a glass of water for far too damn long. If I want to be sexually active and not pregnant, I have to be responsible enough to take a pill every day, and I need to drink water with it to wash it down. What is up with that? Did we lose a war here? I can't believe we call this a free country, with that sort of crap.

But now science has fixed this important issue and come up with a birth control pill I can "take wherever", according to the advertising.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16098766/

See? That's what I'm talking about. A chewable birth control pill that tastes minty. Finally. Now we can call ourselves civilized.

In case you couldn't tell, I was being sarcastic.

Chewable birth control pills? Really? And pardon my Latvian, but why? Are there really lots of women walking around complaining about not getting to use their teeth enough while taking the pill? Did someone think that chewing gum was fun, but you have to throw it out eventually, so what would be awesome is something to chew that disolves instead? Do lots of people love the taste of spearmint but hate gum, and need to get their fix somehow? Is taking a pill currently so difficult that you can only do it in the comfort of your own home?

Oh, and while we're on the topic of the "portability" factor, I read some of the directions, and you have to drink an 8oz glass of water with this chewable pill anyhow, so wouldn't it be easier to just toss one down the hatch with the water instead of chewing followed by a water chaser?

On top of the fact that this sounds like a marketing brainstorm idea gone really wrong, I just can't believe that good money and energy were spent to get it developed. I'm all for science, (ask anyone, I'm always experimenting. Suzuki, I'm gunning for you!) but couldn't we be doing something more, um, productive than developing birth control pills that we can chew and taste of spearmint? Like develop a giant tomato that could end world hunger? Just asking.