Sunday, November 30, 2008

Mabel tries to prove to everyone yet again she is insane

In case you weren't already on board the "Mabel is a crazy person and probably should be locked away from the rest of humanity, lest her insanity infect others" train, here is something that might convince you.

So, I have this burgeoning new relationship. We talk all the time, usually around two hours a night, send lots of emails, and copious amounts of text messages. Despite busy, and usually opposite schedules, we see each other every chance we get. Everything seems to be going really well. This weekend, with him being ultra busy due to house guests, we didn't really talk on Friday and we didn't talk at all on Saturday. And instead of being a normal person, I'm freaking out. Before you say anything, yes, I realize that not talking for such a short period of time is normal, and I wouldn't have a problem with it, other than missing talking to him. Except I'm totally overly analytical about this stuff, and I worry that there might be a reason other than being busy. Last time we saw each other, I think I might have done something not good. It wasn't on purpose, and it wasn't mean, but I don't think it was great. I don't want to go into it, but suffice to say, I did something not totally awesome, and now I'm worrying that while he said it was okay (and was completely fantastic about it) at the time, that now that he's had some time to think on it, he's reconsidering everything.

So, I'm a crazy person, right? Why is it that I can't just accept that he likes me and he's busy? Why do I need to think something must be wrong? Well, there's the part where I'm insane and over-think things, but there's also experience. In the past, when I've dated guys and they've stopped talking to me as frequently as they used to, it always meant something was terribly wrong. But because I never thought something was, I'd track them down, thinking nothing was different, only to find out I was getting a dump-o-gram in the mail. And yes, that's a true story. This means that even though I'm sure there's a valid, normal and totally fine reason we haven't talked, my brain starts freaking out when I notice a few minutes have passed without him calling or replying to my last text message. I'm doing my best to keep from obsessing over this, and I keep talking to people to reaffirm that nothing is wrong. And I know I won't say anything to him when we talk next, because I don't need him to know that I'm such a freak.

I'm sure this will all blow over, and maybe I'll learn that we can not talk for a few days and everything can still be as super-fantastic-amazing as it was before. I'll keep you posted. And no, I'm totally not going to obsessively check my phone for texts now. Stop looking at me like that.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Things I've learned recently

1) When deliriously happy, I don't post.

2) I'm deliriously happy right now. Insanely so.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Cautiously optimistic

That's what you should label me.

Recently, someone came into my life in a big way, and with the force of a mack truck. After much discussion, we decided to meet up this past weekend. I was worried it was going to be awkward, or the chemistry we'd had wouldn't hold up in person. I shouldn't have been. I just had one of the best weekends of my life.

Now, there are some potential obstacles, and they are in no way small ones, but there is interest on both sides to keep this going. I have no idea if it will work, or what will happen if my school crush shows interest (he asked me to study with him on the weekend. What does that mean?) but for the first time in a long time, things are looking up for Mabel in the opposite sex department. Maybe.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Products I love?

A few days ago, I ventured into the local drugstore to purchase some toiletries, including new razor blades. When I went to the aisle, I was reminded why I hate buying hair removal products - they cost so damn much! I hemmed and hawed, and was about to walk away, leaving myself in my hirsute state, when I saw something that was in my budget. They were selling a starter kit of the Venus Breeze, you know the one with strips that replace shaving cream? - for under 8 bucks. I figured I'd give it a shot, as it was way cheaper that buying new blades for my razor. Yeah, I'm frugal like that. I tried it out, and loved it. As has been documented previously, I have the grace of a drunken elephant, and frequently, when trying to slather my legs in shaving cream, I end up dumping a bunch of it on the floor of the tub. I was skeptical about not needing shaving cream, figuring this was a marketing ploy (and I'd know about marketing ploys!) but I didn't need any additional cream, and it was super easy to use, even for me. And the results were impressive. Super close shave, and no nicks. My only concern is that the strips will wear down too soon, and I'll end up spending a lot more money on blades than I did before. Otherwise, I have a new product to love.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Pardon the pop culture reference...

But I'm bringing flirting back.

Not in general, of course, as I realize that it never left the world at large. But I'm bringing it back to me.

I used to be a terrible flirt. The term scandalous would be an apt description of the way I flirted when I was younger. Didn't matter if I liked the person, as long as I got attention and no small amount of desire from the target. Now, being older and wiser (they do come hand in hand, right?) I know that I went too far back then. And yes, there are examples that illustrate this, but no, you can't hear them.

In recent years, I'd gone too far the other way and somewhere along the line, I lost my ability to flirt. I think it had a lot to do with confidence. I wasn't the person physically that I used to be when I was flirting (with immense success, I should point out) and I didn't feel like people would respond positively to my attempts. We can all agree that rejection sucks, and so I stopped. But with all these changes I'm going through, I'm trying to like myself more, and to see myself as I used to. Or, more importantly, as I actually am.

Enter the internet.

I've recently found a little group of friends (no, not you Stormy, but hi!) to chat with. Most of the people are guys, and with so few girls, there tends to be lots of random flirty comments batted about on both sides. And probably because it is the internet and I don't know these people, and because they can't see how I look, I found I was able to flirt again. Intensely. A lot. To the point where I blush at what I'm writing due to the innuendo, and am amazed at my ability to get in a good line. And the thing is? They are flirting back. And now I remember why I used to like it so much. It is a great way to show off my wit and verve, and I think that's always been the strongest part of my appeal. Oh, the physical part of me was fine, but I knew I could nail 'em with my personality. I guess I had forgotten how to showcase that part of me, due to an extreme dislike of the way I looked.

And while I know that none of this will come to anything (and I will likely never meet the people I'm spending all this time with) I think it has given me a great gift. I can flirt again! Thanks should go out to the one commenter in particular who has done a great deal to make me blush and show my drollness and spirit. I couldn't have done it without you. And I really appreciate it.

Now, if only I could do it in person, and with someone I'm actually interested in having a relationship with, I'd be all set. But give me time, and I think I'll master this. Next step - trying it out on my crush?

Sunday, November 9, 2008

My mom has all the luck

My mother's car was hit today as my neighbour backed out of his driveway, and tried to do a three-point turn. He was going kinda fast, and bounced off my mom's car, scraping and denting it something fierce.

The best part?

This isn't the first time my mom's car has been hit while parked on their street.

Hell, it isn't even the first time that particular neighbour has hit her car while it was parked on that street.

I'm thinking she should find a new place to park the car.

The hell?!?!?!?!?

Last night, we didn't have curling (lousy bonspiel, ruining all my fun) so my curling buddy and I went out for dinner and a chat about the exciting fact that at least one hot bartender is back this year, and about our respective crushes.

We went to local pub, midway between our places, and had a lovely time. Good food (deep fried cheescake is awesome, yo!), good beer, good conversation, and good hockey (cram it with walnuts you stupid Habs!). All in all, a great evening. We got our bill, paid it, and left the pub. As we were crossing the street, someone kept calling out "Ladies!" We ignored them, as they couldn't be talking to us. It turns out they were. Our server was chasing us, saying we hadn't paid the whole bill, and wanted to talk it out in the middle of traffic on a major street. She said we hadn't left enough, and she could show us, so we followed her back in, and she gave us the folder with our bill and money in it. There were two twenties, a ten, a five and some coins. Not enough to cover the bill. However, we had a problem with this.

The problem? We counted the money three times, and there is no chance that we'd both count a five as a twenty THREE times. Different values in Canadian money can clearly be seen, unlike American money, where you have to look close.

The other problem? Neither of us had a five in our wallets at the start of the evening. My friend had three twenties, and I had a twenty (fresh from the bank machine) and a ten. And as we never asked for change, how the hell did a five get in there?

We know we put $70+ in the folder, and left, so the only thing we can think of is that someone (either our server or someone else on staff, or maybe another patron?) switched out a twenty for a five, and hoped we'd be nice (read: gullible) enough to put more cash down. And the fact that she'd be all "But I can show you!"with something she had left sitting out where anyone in the pub could access it doesn't prove anything. So, when faced with a five instead of a twenty in the folder, we did the only thing we could see doing. We gave her another twenty, grumbled and left.

What was supposed to be a relatively inexpensive night turned into a hugely annoying, very expensive night. I'm never going back, and I'm ever so pissed.

To ease the pain, we went back to her place and downed a bottle of wine.

Really though, what else could we have done?

Friday, November 7, 2008

Tips for putting the fun in academia. And by fun, I mean alcohol.

Starbucks Hazelnut hot chocolate topped up liberally with Frangelico is an excellent way to get through class.

It is tasty, and helps dull the pain of scholastic pursuits. Plus, it is odour-free, so no one can tell you are boozing it up. No one, that is, unless you start acting drunk. Like by adding your own "The way I see it" statements to your cup, in which you slag the stupider members of the class, show it to your friend and then the two of you giggle like idiots for five minutes straight. Over and over again.

(title credit to Stormy.)

Just wondering...

And yes, I'm aware that I probably should stop daydreaming about this, but I can't so bear with me.

I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I want to get it out of my head in the hopes that I can stop thinking about it. Why does my crush call so frequently? I mean, he's called me a bunch of times, and every time, it is about something terribly trivial and mostly unnecessary, like telling me to let him know what mark we got on our project, like I wouldn't do that anyway. Plus, even when we're on the phone and we know we still have something to work out, he puts it off till a later conversation.

That's gotta be either a very good sign, or he needs to use up his phone minutes every month. Right?

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Partial retraction - you did sorta good

Just when I think we're gonna get along, you go and ban gay marriage in three states. Classy. And reasonable. And totally going to save "traditional marriage".


Seriously America, if you are so concerned with protecting the sacred institution of marriage, how bout banning drive-thru wedding chapels? Or passing a law so that people can't get a licence to marry on the same day as their wedding? Or making sure that people who are getting married in Vegas and Niagara Falls aren't drunk off their asses? Or not pressuring teenage parents to get married for the sake of the children, when chances are high they'll end up divorced in a few years because they didn't really want to get married in the first place?

All those things are a danger to the institution of marriage. Two people of the same sex who love each other and want to make a lifelong commitment are not.

Grow up America.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Mabel is sad


Today, on the best day of the week, when I have class with my crush, and when I should be happy beyond belief, I am sad.

I got a phone call earlier letting me know that he won't be in class today. How am I supposed to get through class now? My whole week is ruined.

The only possible silver lining is that I'll have to arrange a private tutoring session with him to impart what we learned today. In a candle-lit room, at night? I can dream...

You did good.

I mean it, America.

I know we've had our differences, what with you electing a complete moron TWICE and your tendency to take over everything, but you did a good thing yesterday, and I'm proud to call you my neighbour and closest trading partner.

Way to go! Now don't screw it up.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Come on America

Don't screw up this time.

Elect someone who isn't a complete tool, and has a good chance of dying in office. Do me this one solid, and we'll forget all about the last eight years.

Fingers crossed!

Monday, November 3, 2008

I've reached a conclusion

I was looking over the posts on this blog, and man, recently it seem I am one depressing Mabel.

Where are all the jokes about the crotchular region? The sass? The tales of hilarity? Have I been reduced to lovesick moaning and weight-loss stories? Am I that predictable? Gah.

I'm making a solemn vow to try to be far more entertaining and far less moony.

Maybe I'll even figure out the songs for Chemical Schlong's new album. Stay tuned!

A bizarre development

I've had new jeans sitting in my closet for a while now.

They didn't fit for a bit, then they did, but I had to get them shortened as my legs aren't 3 miles long. Before having professionals do this, I wore them a couple of times, not coincidentally on days that I see my crush, after having tucked the extra material under with some safety pins and thread (I'm like a female MacGyver. Gimme some bubblegum, a match and a piece of twine and I'll hatch you a kickass centrepiece) but I finally took them into the tailor to have them professionally shortened. And after getting them back, I put them on to discover something.

These awesome jeans, which were just right, are now a little big around the waist. Even though I've got them the "right" length, they start to slip down, and the bottoms drag on the ground without the aid of a belt. I thought I'd finally gotten past the need to wear belts with my pants in order to keep 'em up. Belts don't scream sexy to me. And at least one day a week, sexy is very important.

Maybe I can take up a pants collection. Anyone care to contribute?

Sunday, November 2, 2008

A sad development

As you'll no doubt recall, I've been waging (and winning) the war against being a tub o'lard. And I've been pleased with the results.


Yesterday, as I was walking from the shower to my bedroom, I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. Naked. And was less than thrilled with the image reflected back at me. I was never someone who thought the sight of my naked body was going to start setting hearts aflutter, even before the weight gain. I wasn't one of those people who insist on always having the lights off during sex or anything, but I wasn't super pleased by the way I looked. But I had hopes that with this change for the better, I'd be more impressed. And I'm not. Maybe I'm hoping for too much, or maybe the naked improvements will take longer than the clothed improvements. I hope that I'm not going to be paying for my weight issues forever while naked, that there is going to be a time when I feel good being unclothed, and that my body will get in line with all the work I'm doing.

Am I dreaming?