I knew veggies weren't good for me

My Fortune Cookie told me: Don't you just hate it when even the aubergines are plotting against you? Get a cookie from Miss Fortune

A political message

Now, I will grant you that I'd rather have my tongue beaten paper-thin with a meat tenderizer than vote Conservative, and I live in fear that they will win the upcoming election, and destroy everything I hold dear. But as someone who thinks democracy is a good thing, I want there to be actual choices for people come election time so that voting doesn't become an exercise in 'Who is less evil?', so I'm considering this my public service for the week.

Attn: person who is running John Tory's campaign

Hi there,

You don't know me, and probably don't like me, what with all the crazy liberal thinking I do, but I want to help you. Not enough to get you elected, you understand, but enough to ensure that democracy really works. So listen closely:

Stop the attack ads. Now.

They are nonsensical, using stats that aren't even remotely true, and prey on people's darkest fears. Which is just douchey. The whole "Killers are walking around on bail and it is all Dalt's fault" premise is especially annoying because bail isn't part of the province's jurisdiction. It is part of the federal bailiwick, and even then, we have this pesky little thing where people have rights, so judges are loathe to just lock people up without bail pending their trials.

I know it is super easy to go with a whole "Liberals are evil, and if you love your family, you'll vote against them" because you don't need to do any research, you just make stuff up and slap it on the air, thus allowing you to go home to your families. But attack ads don't really work in Canada (remember the whole "Jean Chretien's face is deformed so he obviously can't lead the country" ad? Or more recently, the "kitten eater" email? I'm thinking you're looking for a different outcome than that in which those two resulted.) Canadians seem to get more angry with the attacker than the attackee, unlike the States, where attacking is always the right choice.

Plus, it looks shifty that you want to be in charge, but can't articulate reasons why you'd be a good choice. As my mother always says, "Because is not a reason". So give people some reason to think that you have a plan, at least, a plan beyond "Dalton sucks". That way, you might actually get your wish (in which case, I may need to flee the province. I survived the Harris years, and I have no wish to go back. Shudder.) but at least if you are chosen, it will be because the people chose you and your policies, and didn't just vote against another Liberal government. That is the goal of democracy, isn't it?

Now I know, if you change tacks, you will have a lot of work to do, and I don't just mean coming up with actual stands on stuff, though you should do that too. You'll have to convince people to listen to you. I know that all of my friends change the channel when your ads come on, mostly because we know there is no actual political discourse going on, just slander. And we all know, slander is only fun when you are sitting in a bar attacking people who aren't there. It has no place in politics.

Lastly, even if you don't want to take my advice and develop ads that aren't of the attack variety, could you please take the current crop of ads off the air? For me? I know there isn't much time before the election, but I'm finding I have to charge across my place quite frequently, so that I can change the channel before I'm subjected to yet another attack ad. And one of these times, I'm going to end up skidding into a wall or something and injure myself. So please, if not for democracy, then for my health. I know that if you get elected, you'll appreciate it if I'm not sucking money out of our health care system.

Yours Truly,

Mabel

That tears it

The next person who throws themselves at closing doors on the subway in the hopes of cramming themselves through, pushes me out of the way in order to get on the train in front of me, or races me for a seat is gonna get my stiletto heel lodged in their eye but good.

Shudder

I just saw a commercial for the movie Sidney White. And may I just say, Amanda Bynes, sunshine, you look like some sort of haggard, plastic, overly tanned version of a human being. You might want to do something about that. That vision of you will replace the whale in my dreams.

Remind me...

...cuz I keep forgetting: when wearing crocs, is it cooler to match them exactly to your shirt, or to go with a contrasting colour?


(trick question: It is never cool to wear crocs.)

Reader poll

Would you go back to a restaurant if they served you a meal with a baby cockroach on your plate, and even though they made you a fresh meal, they didn't offer to comp your repast?

Me neither.

Dear TTC,

Really?

No seriously. Really?

Do you actually think that raising fares so that a one way trip costs almost 3 dollars is going to help? Yes, I grant you that you will get a bit more money from each trip, but I think it will backfire. The fares are already too high, and this I think will be the straw that broke the camel's back. People aren't going to take the subway if they can help it. Most of my friends don't take it every day, and if you jack up the price again (something like the third time in three years) they are going to stop altogether. Because frankly? Aside from it being simply galling that you have no shame in charging almost 3 dollars for a one way trip, no matter how short it is, um, how do I put this delicately?

Your service sucks the monkey.

Overcrowding. Unreasonable wait times in between trains. Subway lines built in the middle of nowhere while the populated core has to continue cramming onto one east-west line. Trains being put out of service in the middle of rush hour, dumping hundreds of people out, who then have to wait for up to twenty-five minutes for a train they can squeeze onto. Drivers who slam on the brakes at every stop, sending people flying. The last train leaves well before 2am. No early morning Sunday service. Frequent stoppages in service along the whole line while an issue is dealt with at one station. I could go on, but if I listed all the problems, I'd get carpal tunnel syndrome.

I know you're scandalously underfunded, and that chafes my ass something fierce. In fact, I think the fact that the provincial government pays nothing into your budget is a crime and I'm considering voting for whomever promises to rectify this situation in the upcoming election, but it seems to me that this notion of raising fares again is cutting off your nose to spite your face. Winning the battle but losing the war. Some other cliché that means the same thing. This is not the way to fix things. Please reconsider.

Relax, it was only a false alarm

The apocalypse is not nigh. I know, with my success in math yesterday, I was sure it was just around the corner, but today things took a turn back to normal for Mabel. Today I was befriended by a very nice soul who doesn't have the sense that God gave gravel, and if today is any indication, seems I will be forced to explain how to do everything to him at least three times a class. I skillfully managed to have one of my pens leak all over my bag and my jeans, ink that I then unknowingly transferred to my hands and arms. And I also managed to launch my pencil through the air in the middle of class, while fiddling with it during the lecture. Mabel and her spazzy ways are back. The end is not upon us. You may return to your sinful ways.

Sign #12 of the coming apocalypse

In math class yesterday, we were learning all about net pricing, list pricing and discount rates, and I was not the last person to understand what the prof was talking about. In fact, I was at the head of the class. When someone asked a question, claiming that we didn't have the right formulas to solve the problem, I knew he was wrong and knew which formula to use immediately.

I know. I'm scared too.

Ramping up for week two: In the name of science

So, after a few days away from the hurly burly of school, I think I have some perspective on the whole damn thing. Instead of just looking at how much I don't fit in, and how much I look down on my fellow students, I'm going to try to take the tack that I'm there to study them for some sort of scientific research.

To paraphrase Principal Scudworth: I will be Diane Fossey, and they will be the gorillas. But where will I find the mist?

Douchebag of the Week

I present this inaugural edition of the one of the most prestigious of awards to the dicksmack at W network who decided to not only switch the day and time Veronica Mars is on, but to randomly start back at the beginning of the series, leaving me in the lurch in the middle on season two. I need to know what happens!!!!!

May your coffee always taste of feet and every bikini wax cause rashes.

Back to School: Week One in review

As you may have heard, I have decided to re-enter the scholastic world after almost a decade away from it. I knew that it would be a great change to my life, and thought I was prepared for it. Bwahahaha. Ahem. As I was saying, classes started this week, and here are my general impressions of week one:

Holy Flirking Schnit.

Oh, you'd like something a tad more descriptive? Fine.

Last week, when I went to the orientation for the business school, I realized that I am so far out of my element. More than one person brought their mom. To orientation. I mean, I know that going off to school can be scary, but if you need to bring your mommy to the orientation session four days before classes start, you probably aren't ready for post-secondary education. When sitting the auditorium for a presentation, about 70% of my fellow students went 'Ooooooh' at the lights dimming, and tittered when in the presentation there was a reference to someone meeting their boyfriend at the student help centre. Later, someone actually asked if we needed to take our own notes in class. I was concerned, but figured this was just orientation, and when actual school started, my classmates would behave more like adults and less like a bunch of ten year olds hoped up on sugar with a supply teacher.

So, this week I go to class, expecting things to be better, and I can't believe I'm in a post secondary institution. People can't shut up in class, and they aren't talking in whispers, oh no, but at a volume that is normally reserved for when someone is talking on their cellphone in public, even when the prof is trying to lecture. They show up almost an hour into class, and when we're given a ten minute break, they traipse back half an hour later. They can't take notes, or at least can't take them at an appropriate speed, as student after student demands that the prof return to an earlier slide so they can take another five minutes to copy down the 17 word definition of social marketing in addition to the ten minutes we spent earlier with that slide up in front of us. Did I mention that a copy of this presentation will be available on the web next week, and that all these definitions are also found in the textbook?

In another class, the prof gave out an article to read on the subject of preparing business students for the business world, and he said "Here's an article to think about, now it doesn't get everything right, but it does make you think." His attempt at provoking thought resulted in one particularly petulant student (who had spent the better part of a half hour sleeping right in front of him) actually yelling at him that she didn't want to wear a business suit, wasn't going to, he couldn't make her, and look at what he was wearing, so he had no right to criticize her clothes (see-through top and low rider jeans with her g string hanging out. Everyone has a right to criticize that garbage, no matter what they are wearing). And let's not even speak of the vast numbers of people who played computer games or spent all class on Facebook.

I finished my first week of school wondering what the hell is wrong with kids today. I knew going back to school would make me feel old, but I figured I'd at least get once through my weekly schedule before that happened. Glad I didn't put any money on it. I'll need that money for booze.

Psst! I have to tell you something

I haven't been totally honest with you, and it is eating me up inside, so here goes:

I have a boyfriend.

I know, I know. I should have mentioned it sooner, but I just wasn't sure I could share our love with the world. See, he doesn't call a lot, or frequently, and we don't go on dates or anything, and I didn't want to get too excited about it, but now I know it is real, so I need to share this with all of you.

It started a little over a month ago, the day I moved into my new place. The phone rang, and I saw that it was "private". Now, I figure it is probably my friend E, whose cell number is blocked for complicated reasons, as the only other people who call me from "private" are my mom and Stormy, both from work, and I didn't think they were in the office in the middle of the night.I answered the phone, exhausted beyond belief from all the unpacking, and almost said "Hey E!" but my brain and mouth didn't connect on that. Boy was I happy I didn't say anything, as on the other end of the line was this unintelligible male voice, one I had never heard before. I said he had the wrong number, and was about to hang up. Then he asked how the move went, and I wondered if maybe my exhaustion was affecting my ability to recognize my own friends, so I said it went fine. Then the voice kept talking, wanting to know how his "sweetness" was doing, and wanted to know if he could come over. I kept repeating that he had the wrong number, and eventually hung up. Then, I promptly fell asleep and forgot all about it.

This weekend, I get another couple of phone calls from the mysterious "private", and I don't answer them, due to my status as a grumble-puss. I check my voicemail earlier today, and along with some messages about the bar snafu, there is a garbled message from the same unintelligible voice, asking how I was doing, suggesting we should get together, saying that he misses and loves me. So, I guess it is official. I have a boyfriend. Granted, we've never met, and I feel dirty and kinda uncomfortable after he calls, but it is better than being alone, right? Ah well, maybe I can get over those feelings in the next month so that I'm ready for his next call, and he can finally arrange to see his "sugar".

Grumble grumble grumble

Over the past few days, I've been in the crustiest of moods. Everything is making me lash out. People in cars behind me honking at me when I don't drive through yellow lights so that they are stuck at the red light too. People not showing up on time, leaving me sitting alone in bars. People who wander up and down the aisles of the grocery store in a zigzag pattern, shouting at top volume on their cellphones, thereby making it impossible for anyone else to get their shopping down and also giving them a headache. Now, all these things are annoying, I will grant you, but I'm getting so worked up over them, far more than I should. I can't be around people right now without completely losing my cool repeatedly. So, until class on Tuesday, I am going to keep myself away from others, in hope that I'll evolve out of this current state.

Until then, I am the Grumble-puss. Coo coo cachoo.