Phonecall from Hoboken

It finally came this morning.

And it was odd. And wonderful. And made me feel much better. And made me miss him.

I'm still not sure what will become of us, but I'm glad that I don't have to hate him.

I get it

I mean, I figured it out.

This may surprise you, but I've done a lot of thinking about this since Monday. He didn't phrase it well, but after going over our conversations again and again, I figured out what he was trying to say. I realized that the Tulsa gig means that on top of giving up weekends back here without his kid, he also has to shorten the weekends he has with his kid, and that's why he said he didn't want to have to choose between us. Which makes perfect sense. I wouldn't want him to see me instead of his kid, especially given their short time together, and I wouldn't want him if he could choose me instead of her. So, essentially, this would mean that for the duration of the Tulsa gig, we wouldn't see each other, and seeing as it is open-ended (they proposed a three month trial, and then a negotiation for more time if required) and he wouldn’t be able to walk away until the work is complete, it could be 6 months in between us seeing each other. Add that to the fact that he’s already drowning in work from Hoboken, and that Tulsa would only add to his stress, and chances are we’d end up talking less than we had been, and that wouldn’t be good for either of us.

I think the goal of Monday was to break us up now, so he could do the Tulsa gig without as much guilt, he could let me move on with my life and so we both wouldn’t get as hurt. The problem with that? We’re already totally head over heels for each other, and it is going to hurt like hell no matter what. Plus? I don’t want anyone else, and I don't think he does either. I understand what he was doing now, and I get why he was so upset, and kept talking to me and held me. I don’t like it, but I get it. All that I can do now is talk to him next week and keep him in my life as much as I can, hope that Tulsa finishes up quickly, and that he comes back and we can pick up where we left off. And I actually have faith that this is what will happen.

I was obviously Hitler in a past life

I have to have been. That's pretty much the only thing that explains my karma.

After my post asking about me being demanding, I went to my parents for a family member's birthday dinner, and it was awful. My mother was terrible to me, and I watched her needle my father, and I just decided that no matter what, I didn't want a relationship like that, and that what the boy and I had was pretty damn good, so I'd work through it. I'd decided to not talk to him about my demands. I got home from dinner and called him, and we had one of our nice, long, really amazing talks. I told him I was bringing him some of the meringues I made for curling, and we said we were looking forward to seeing each other in the morning.

I arrived at the coffee shop a bit early, and he was there. We said hi, and chatted a bit, and he bought us coffee. We went and found a table, and he told me that he got the gig in Tulsa. I congratulated him, and then he said that it meant spending two weekends a month there, and that he thought that meant he wasn't going to be able to be in a relationship. I just about passed out. We spent the better part of two hours sitting there, alternately talking and sitting in silence, me trying to figure out what the hell he was thinking, and why he was doing this, and him giving me mixed messages. I'd sit there looking away, and out of the corner of my eye, I'd catch him looking at me, but when I'd look up to meet his eyes, he'd look away and pretend he hadn't been looking. Finally, he had to go catch his flight to Hoboken, and he got up to leave. He asked if we could talk later, and I said sure, and then he hugged me, tightly, and kissed my head a couple of times, and then we broke apart, and he kissed me a couple of times, and then he took the meringues and left. I was upset, and confused, and had to go do some schoolwork.

Fastforward to later in the evening, when I'm trying to study for my accounting exam today (again, what did I do to deserve this?) and not being able to, as all I can think of is our promised conversation. I finally sack up, and call him. He picks up the phone, and apologizes for not calling, and we have short, stilted chat about the rest of our days. Then he says he'll call me back on his calling card, and I say okay, and hang up, partially convinced he won't. But, a few minutes later, he does. We again have this stilted conversation about stuff other than the elephant in the room. I take the plunge, and mention it. And we go through everything. I ask him all the things I need/want to know, and he tries to explain. Basically, he said he needs to focus on his career and his kid, and can't do a relationship, and he doesn't want a relationship, and all that. But it is the strangest conversation I've ever had, because while we do talk about us, we also talk about random stuff in our lives from earlier in the day, and stuff that had happened to us on other days, and in some ways, were really, really honest about everything, and it was like our normal conversations. We talked for almost two hours, including a break where he had to get off the phone for a bit, but then called me back. He said he didn't want to never talk to me again, but was surprised that I didn't want him dead, and didn't know how to handle us...however we end up. I was surprised that I didn't want him dead either. I'm angry (and how!) and think he's not being honest with himself and that he's doing this for other reasons (fear of intimacy, fear of getting hurt, fear of not being able to make me/us happy with him being away so much) and am not unconvinced that he won't wake up and realize that he made a mistake at some point in the future, but I don't want him dead. And I do think I want him in my life. I opened up to him in ways I haven't to anyone else, and I don't want to let go of that, whatever else happens. And yes, I might change my mind on that, but right now, that's how I feel.

So, we're going to talk when he's back in town in a couple of weeks. I guess that's supposed to give us time to separate, or get over it, or whatever. I'm not sure that I'm not hoping it gives him time to smarten up and retract this. And yes, that's a stupid thing, and I'm trying to not focus on that, but I just can't. This will sound insane, I know, but I would swear to you that we are a perfect fit, and I just can't accept that if I haven't totally been snowed by him, that we aren't supposed to be together.

And now, I'm left with a broken heart, shattered confidence and a feeling that I'm a terrible judge of character. I'd drink, but accounting takes a sober mind.

Am I being a demanding bitch?

No really, I'm asking because I need to know.

So, the boy has all these demands on his time, especially when he is back home. And over the past month and a bit, I've been coming last. Like way last. Three of five scheduled meetings have been cancelled with no rescheduled time offered. I've always been understanding, and haven't made an issue of it, but it means that he is sad, and I'm sad, and it sucks, and makes our conversations (the main form of our relationship) kind of strained sometimes. But I think I'm getting to the end of my rope. This weekend, we were supposed to get together, but due to circumstances beyond control, we couldn't. I knew he was doing the right thing, but was still sad. To combat my sadness, I suggested that he try to find a way to get together later on the weekend. And he thought he had a couple of possibilities. Then, it looked like one was going to work, and we were both delighted. We had a nice conversation, actually able to enjoy talking to each other, as opposed to the earlier conversation where the cancellation happened. Today was supposed to be the day, but an hour or so before the meet, he had to cancel. With reason, but still. Again, sadness all around, particularly because meeting up tomorrow before he heads back to Hoboken wasn't an option. After a bit, I decided to change my plans for tomorrow so we could meet up.

And now I think that I need to talk to him about how I'm feeling, but am worried that I'm being a demanding bitch by doing this. I knew going in I wasn't number one or two on his priority list, and that I wouldn't get to see him tonnes. But, with him cancelling on me so frequently, I'm starting to feel like I'm not even third on the list. And maybe that's not fair, because I've only been cancelled on because of his top two priorities, but it is how I feel. And I think I need more. But if I ask for that, is that asking for too much? Is that going against what I agreed to going in? And is that going to cause us to break up? I don't know what I expect him to do about this, because when he's had to cancel, he's had no other option. And I don't want to be a stress in his life, but I'm getting resentful of making time for him and then getting cancelled on.

Should I bring this up? How do I make my point without being whiny? Is this me being one of those women I've always hated? Does he think I want to break up? What am I prepared to put up with, and what is my limit? Will I pull my heart off the table at some point? Gah. I'm nauseous just thinking about it. But I think I need to talk to him about it, because if this happens one more time (and it likely will, at some point, if not right away) and I haven't said anything, I don't see me handling it well. I don't even know if I want to talk to him tonight after visiting my parents (which again, will be a reverent joy) and pretend that everything is okay, seeing as I think tomorrow isn't going to be fun. I see him in about 28 hours. Maybe I should start drinking now?

Sigh

So, I've been away for a while. Because I've been delightfully happy, so that's a good thing.

But.

Things have been going so well, but there's a little fly in the ointment. The boy's work in Hoboken is challenging. He is there most of the week, and they are running him ragged. He once called me right when he got home from work - at midnight. It is draining him, and makes me crazy because I think he needs more time to himself, and plus, I get him at the end of extremely long and tiring days. And then, there's the part where they could terminate his contract at any point, so he is still looking for options. One of which is a part-time (less than 1 day per week) gig in Tulsa. Earlier in the month, he had to go there for the weekend to prepare the proposal, and we were both upset at missing time together. Then, instead of hearing back from them one way or another this week, they threw a wrinkle into things by asking them to come back and present the proposal twice more, to different groups of higher ups each time. But, instead of scheduling the presentations for the same day, they managed to book one for Friday afternoon, and one for Monday morning. So, my boy gets to spend the weekend (on the dime of the company, of course) in Tulsa. Again, this made us both terribly upset. But as he said, maybe that's why they need him - spending all that money and wasting all that time isn't efficient in the least.

On the bright side? Things between us are still totally awesome. So, don't expect to hear from me too much.

I can't concentrate

On anything.

Seriously. I can't think about anything for more than a few minutes before my mind wanders to a certain person and when I'll next be able to spend time with him. I start cleaning the house, and soon I'm daydreaming about our next conversation. I try to read a book, and I'm suddenly overcome with images of his face. I write emails to friends, only to lapse into reviewing our last meeting. I shower, and well, you know....

This does not bode well for next semester, does it?

Busy, busy, busy

So much going on in Mabel's life right now.

There is baking to do, decorating to take place, family events to attend, frequent "Why you suck" meetings with the parents, various get togethers with different groups of friends, out of town guests to see, and finally, and most importantly (to me, at least) a certain person to spend as much time with as is humanly possible.

I need a vacation.

Score one for the crazy person

Well....so, that happened.

Sigh. I don't even know if I've got the words. But, you'll need closure on the anecdote, so go the the bathroom, get a bevy, and here we go.

I may be crazy, but in this case? I was right.

A bit of background for you:

Tyrell (a pseudonym to protect the insanely douchey) and I started chatting on a favourite website about a month ago. It started casually, but soon degenerated into hardcore, obvious flirting for the whole community to see. We'd spend hours (roughly 4 every night for ten or so day) talking just the two of us, veering into pretty naughty territory, but having a wonderful time. A few weeks ago, after we seemed to reach the point of no return, Tyrell asked me to email him. I did, and after a few emails, we exchanged numbers. Four minutes later, he called me, and we spent almost two hours on the phone, talking about all sorts of stuff. First, he admitted that he had a small thing he needed to care for every second weekend, and then, he admitted that he had taken a job which would require him to spend half his week in Hoboken. He said he wasn't sure about "starting something" with this change looming, and I replied that we hadn't really started anything. We made plans for the next night.

I was worried that we wouldn't hit it off in person, or that he wouldn't like the way I looked (or vice versa). But it turned out just fine. He came, we watched the hockey game together, he watched me curl. After, we went back to his place for drinks. The next day, he sent me home in a cab (that he paid for) and I sorta figured that might be it. But, he sent me an email, and that started a downpour. We would talk on the phone for roughly 1.5 to 2 hours every night, and during the day, we'd text each other and email. He initiated all this, always being the one to start the emailing, texting or phone calls. I was playing it cool. He said he had the next Saturday free, so did I want to have lunch? I said sure, and we agreed that he'd bring lunch to my place. He brought a lovely bottle of wine and a charming Italian dish. It was fantastic.

In seven days, I received 100 text messages from him, all talking about how wonderful I was, and how he couldn't wait to see me. We'd talk about how this whole thing was a little overwhelming and how we couldn't believe that it had happened so quickly. A week ago, we planned meeting up in a few weeks for one big bash before Hoboken, and he talked about wanting to see me before then. He asked me to lunch, but I couldn't go. Then he asked me for coffee, and indicated that he really wanted to see me. I went, and we had a great time, sitting and drinking our coffee and talking.

Wednesday, after some racy text messages, we agreed that we'd meet up after my exam. We met up, went to his place, and spent a nice evening. When I needed to go home (due to foreign diplomats arriving at his place the next day and the need to clean up in preparation) he kept on repeating how he couldn't believe he was doing something so stupid and sending me home. He gave me money for a cab, and walked me outside, gave me a kiss and popped me into a cab with instructions to text when I got home. I did, and we had a bit of a back and forth. Thursday, again, at his initiative, lots of texting, including a request for me to say hi to the gang on the website, as well as lots of "can't wait to see you", "wish you were here" etc from him. Friday, a quick morning text from him, my reply, and then an evening text from me.

And then? Nothing.

So, I worried and got all insane, like I tend to, and talked to my friends to calm me down, convinced that this was different and everything would be just fine. Today, three plus days since I'd heard anything, I decided to send an email, just saying hi, mentioning my weekend and asking about our plans for Thursday. I did. And immediately got a bounce back email telling me that the email I had received and sent 60 emails from/to did not exist. I had a friend confirm that it had not just been a fluke. Tyrell's email didn't work anymore.

I had my answer. I hadn't been panicking without reason.

Next time: The hell? Alternately titled: Seriously, the hell? (An in depth analysis)

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.

Things I've learned recently

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

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

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.

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?

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?

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?

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.

Except.

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?

Belated curling update

I know, I can't believe I forgot to update you on last week's game.

We had a ringer on our team, but the other team had two.

The game wasn't close, the score being 13 - 1. For us!

I had an okay game, making some shots, missing slightly on others. One thing was different, in that for possibly the first time ever, I was freezing during the game. I always wear a matching pant and hoodie (workout fabric - don't know the name) and a tank top, with no hat, gloves, or jacket. And normally, I'm fine. Not super warm, but not too cold. Just right. But last week, I was downright freezing. My fingers were icy even when we went back into the club. Perhaps it was a one time thing, or maybe my weight loss means I'm not insulated by all that fat, and now get cold like other people. Hmmm...

Exciting news!

For me, anyway.

I was going through my closet, trying things on to see what is too big and I can get rid of, and what items finally fit me again. And there were amazing results all over the place. Tops that I bought because they were ridiculously on sale (even though they didn't fit at the time) now fit me perfectly, and look awesome. Dresses I used to wear but then stopped because they started to look heinous (and then stopped fitting) are now wearable, if not completely awesome.

But the best part? This gorgeous clingy velvet dress I bought ages ago and love to pieces, finally fits again. I put it on, and looked in the mirror, and couldn't look away. I looked fantastic. I haven't liked the image in the mirror for as long as I can remember, so it was quite a shock. I spent the evening walking around the house in it, not wanting to take it off.

Now I just need to find a place to wear it. Any ideas?

Blockbuster trade!!

Tee hee.

I still can't think about it without giggling with joy.

The last assignment was the last straw. I went in, and handed in my part (as well as the two that were way off point) and explained everything. Then, in a brilliant move reminiscent of a great general manager, the prof pulled off a spectacular trade.

I got moved to a team with one seriously under-performing member, who was shipped back to my team. And I couldn't be more thrilled. This team, while not perfect, actually gets works done, and doesn't make me want to bash myself on the head every second while working on the project.

I got to break the news to my team. I told the two of them who were in class (Mr. "I speak for the group" didn't show and didn't send in his work either) and later I sent the whole team an email detailing the change, and I included all the work I had done so far. I haven't heard back from them, and it just makes me all tingly.

But, something happened to make me think that maybe I underestimated Fratty McFratterson. He was one of the two who came to class, and I told him about the trade immediately. He replied immediately, with a shocked look on his face, "No fair! We're trading a 5-star for a 1-star!" I guess he is more perceptive than I thought. And I appreciate the compliment. I'm glad someone noticed.

Let the group-work induced drinking begin!

Remember the whole fiasco that took place last week with my advertising class? Yeah, I know, I tried to wipe it from my mind too, but no such luck.

(Deep breath)


After the huge success that was our last assignment, there are some events that I haven't shared. Mostly because even thinking about them caused me to shake uncontrollably with rage. I think I've got it under control now, so I'll give it a shot, but you may want to stand away from your computer screen, just in case.

(Another deep breath)

Imagine it: Same time, one week ago...

I finally got everyone's work, way late. For the most part, it wasn't well done, and was either incredibly vague or completely off-topic. In addition to the part I was responsible for, I had drafted the rest of it on my own, and used that as the base, occasionally (very, very occasionally) adding something from the work my group members had given me. I wasn't all that pleased with the job we'd done overall, as I knew we were going to have to redo/add significant amounts to it to make it a proper foundation for the rest of the project.

I was also hella pissed, as I had to go to my parents place at the ungodly hour of 7am in order to print everything off before class because I don't have a printer. I got to class, told the prof I wanted to talk to her, and was hopeful I could get out of the group. When my group members showed up, I tried to be calm as I told them what we were going to have to redo at some point, and I didn't attack any one person. Two of the group members were very good about it, and one of them seemed annoyed at my comments, but as I'd been nice (and was in the right) I felt okay. Then, the last guy came in. The one who had been super late with his stuff.

And then it got bad.

He started in on me, yelling that I was trying to take over everything, and wasn't speaking for the group, and that I was wrong about everything. Now, I don't react well to personal attacks, but I managed to keep my cool, and not yell back. I told him that I just wanted to do well, and that we hadn't done everything we needed to. I told him this in a rational voice (and damn, was I ever proud that I didn't resort to bashing him over the head with a desk.) and looked him in the eye.

And then it got worse.

He retorted that he spoke for the team, and that they wanted to do well too, and he refused to even let me finish a sentence. It was all I could do to keep my hands from shaking, my fury was that intense. After this delightful exchange, we had to meet with the prof to talk about our first assignment, which also was a complete ball of suck that only got done because I pulled something out of my ass in 15 seconds. She told us we would need to make more adjustments to it in order to make it work.

After handing in the part that I had done for the second assignment (the part that vaguely resembled the assignment due), we got to go back and talk about the third assignment. Mr "I speak for the group" took over. He started explaining everything, even though he was wrong on pretty much every point. He made decisions unilaterally that should have been group decisions. I said nothing. Why? Well, I decided that since he was against me, I would let him organize this assignment, and that he'd either surprise me and do a good job, or he'd give me more ammunition on just how much he sucked. Either way, I wasn't up for another yell-fest.

And then it got horrendous.

So, where are we now? Well, the third assignment is due tomorrow morning. I was only supposed to do a small part, and someone else was to compile the different parts and print it. I was not involved in any decisions, and just took the part assigned to me. Consequently, trivial things like deadlines, and making sure the parts read as one whole instead of the independent work of five people were not established. We are 9 hours from class, and I have discovered in the past 90 minutes that they want me to edit and compile. Only problem? I have my part, some weird amalgam of the first two assignments from someone else, and something that seems to be copied directly from some website (and isn't on topic) from a third. Mr "I speak for the group" hasn't sent anything, though apparently he called someone in the past half hour to say "it will be really late" and no one has heard from the other member. And I'm expected to edit, compile and send it back to someone so that she can put the last part in early this morning when she gets it. Oh, and I'm supposed to talk to the guy who hasn't sent anything yet. It is deja vu all over again.

And then it got better?

The only thing that has kept me from drinking myself into oblivion is that when I talked to the prof, she gave me a tiny bit of hope. She told me to just do my part, to not take on more than I should, and to let her know who has done what. She also said that I was right about the work we were going to have to redo, and that everything I understood about the assignments and the project as a whole was what she wanted. Most comfortingly, she said my marks won't suffer. I don't know how she can keep that promise, but I figure after this assignment gets handed in, and I tell her the details of the debacle, she might just have to break down and let me join another group.

Plus, aside from a complete mental breakdown, I just don't see how it could get any worse.

Someone up there hates me.

My birthday rolls around this week, and what movie is opening on the anniversary of my illustrious birth? Something with the gravitas of the soon to open Oscar contenders? Close.

The movie of which I speak? Beverly Hills Chihuahua.

Yeah, the one with the talking dogs. That's right, not just one, but a whole (pardon the pun) kennel of them.

I know, it is a perfect companion to me getting another year older. And it certainly does scream festive. A feel good family romp. I'm glad that instead of working on curing cancer, we've decided as a society instead to focus our energies on striving to make talking pooches look more realistic.

If my eyes rolled any harder as I type this, they'd fall out. The arts, I weep for you.