Meet Captain McSneezyPants

I believe that everyone has their own special brand of super-hero-ness. You might not know it, but there's something about you that could be construed as a super power. Maybe your smile can light up a room, or maybe your soprano high notes shatter glass. Either way, it makes you special. Unique.

I mean, Mary Tyler Moore can turn the world on with her smile.

Donnie Wahlberg can turn the world on with his abs.

And not to toot my own horn or anything, but I can turn the world on with my homemade cupcakes.

My husband's super power, however, isn't always one that puts a big grin on Earth's face. In fact, if he's not careful, Brian's super power can part hair, break windows, and startle someone into a panic attack.

My husband's super power is his sneeze. Let's call them his Super Sonic Sneezes.

When we first started living together, a sneeze from Brian was enough to leave me huddled in the corner, arms over my head, preparing for the ceiling to fall. Seriously. They are that loud. It got so bad that I finally asked him to try and devise a way to warn me when he feels one coming on.

It took a few years, and a few trial runs. Flare guns don't work inside. Tapping his leg didn't help much either, since my clogging background brainwashed me to recognize that sign as the beginning of a hoe-down.

After years of practice and polish, Brian finally has a signal down. It works in almost every situation (although we find it can be slightly dangerous when he is driving.) But regardless, it gives me a chance to batten down the hatches, prepare myself for the thunderous sound that will issue from between his lips, and grab a hold of any expensive vases.




You can imagine our surprise (and dismay) when we discovered that another person on this planet uses Captain McSneezyPants' Super Secret Sneeze Signal. And not only is he using it as a source of adorableness, but also to sell people on a service plan with AT&T.




Uh-Oh. Your Super Secret Sneeze Signal has been compromised. Back to the drawing board, Captain.

Note: I'm not selling anything for Disney, nor am I making any money for posting an AT&T commercial. Both videos just help me illustrate my point a little better. And the kid in that phone commercial cracks me up.

My Hair, Some Advertising, and a Little Donnie Wahlberg-Husband Rivalry

A couple of months ago, I mentioned that I was considering changing my hairstyle. I'm proud to announce, after approximately 12 weeks, that I'm making some not-so-significant-but-still-some-slight progress. I always knew growing out a pixie was going to be challenging. But so far, I'm pretty pleased with the results.

I love how it started doing this "woohoo" flippy thing in the front:

And I love being able to use all the cute hair accessories I've purchased to keep my hair out of my face:

This one was taken about 3 weeks ago. See how much it's grown since then??

However, after having a pixie cut for almost 5 years now, there are certain things I'm having to get used to again when it comes to having longer locks. Like hair touching my ears:

And what I'm referring to as my Elvis side burns:

Granted, those few little things will be tamed when I visit my friend and stylist, LeAnn, tomorrow. But at some point, the snipping here and there to tame the beast won't be able to contain those puppies, and I will have to don some gold sparkly glasses just to get my shopping done incognito.

The one thing I'm really struggling with, though, is a habit I formed as a young child. When I am focused on something (writing, reading, Doctor Who on BBC America) I tend to play with my hair. It's totally involuntary, and I really don't even know I'm doing it half the time. But there I'll be, minding my own business, and somehow my hands wind up in my hair.

Truly, it's not such a terrible habit. The problem is when I do it during the day. Because inevitably, after about an hour, I go from looking like a normal, mostly-coiffed Abby, to something more along the lines of Medusa in glasses.

Source

Not only do I look weird, but I've actually suffered a hair-play injury, involving a pinched nerve in my neck, due to my overzealous twirling of late. And so my husband has been given the assignment to help me remember to STOP playing with my hair. Now he walks around the house randomly shouting "HAIR!" and "Arms down, missy!" 

I swear I'm not making this up. Everything I publish here is true. Mostly.

Anywhoo, I'm excited to see what the next 12 weeks will bring. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I lose the Elvis look by Christmas. It'll happen. I just know it.

IN OTHER NEWS...
Those of you who are observant will have noticed that my BlogHer ads are live as of today! (Those of you who aren't observant will now scroll up to see what they missed. It's ok, you can go peek. We'll wait for you....Back now? Awesome. Let's continue.) There were a few moments of confusion this morning as I tried to find my newly generated ad code on the BlogHer website, but with the help and support of my husband (who reminded me to breathe,) Alex from Late Enough (who sent me an email with more Abby-friendly instructions), and MoMo from Team BlogHer (who cheered me along like a pro), I finally got the ads installed. I think they look fantastic! And I'm super-excited to see what my association with BlogHer will bring in the future.

That being said, I'm still trolling for readers. The little contest I started last week brought a few new faces to my Abby Gabs Facebook Fan Page, but I still haven't broken 70 friends. So, spread the word, share the love, and pretend like all you REALLY want for Christmas is an Abby Gabs specialized portrait.

Lastly, a little shout out about a big thing that happened to me last week. I wished the ever-sexified Donnie Wahlberg a happy birthday via Twitter, and he totally hugged me.

The following conversation with my husband took place minutes later via text message:

A: I just got a Twitter hug from you-know-who.
B: Will Smith? The Doctor? DJ Jazzy Jeff? Voldemort? Justin Timberlake? That guy from the Backstreet Boys?
A: Noooooooo.
B: Mark Wahlberg?
A: Noooo, but you're closer.
B: The Funky Bunch?

And that, ladies and gentleman, is why I married him.

A Day of Stat-Keeping At Abby Gabs: The Man War Edition

My husband has always been my #1 Biggest Fan when it comes to my blog. In fact, just the other evening, he sat next to me on the couch, computer in his lap, and spent the better part of an hour sharing archived Abby Gabs with his friends on Facebook.

After sharing the links to some of his favorite "Brian" blogs, he abruptly closeed his laptop, cleared his throat, and turned to look at me. "Abby," he said, "I'm a little worried that the Donnie Wahlberg blogs are beginning to overshadow the Awesome Husband blogs."

Well, well.

"I think you need to institute some sort of scoreboard on your blog, to clearly depict how many blogs have been written about each of us. That'll keep you honest." Satisfied that he'd made his point, he turned back to watching the Olympics.

His little Man War diatribe got me thinking....maybe he's right. So I did what any dutiful wife/blogger would do. I pulled up my blog and went through EVERY SINGLE POST, tallying the number of blogs written about Brian, those written about Donnie, and those in which both are mentioned.

I have to admit. There are a lot of DW mentions.

So I decided to follow Brian's advice. But, before there could be a scoreboard, there had to be parameters for me to follow. Hence the following brief, but informative, interview:

With those rules in mind, I headed to the internet, certain that somewhere in the wide world of web, there would be SOMEONE who had created a completely customizable scoreboard widget. And that it would take me 10 minutes to whip one up and add it to the blog.


<Pause here for your laughter and scorn.>


In fact, there is not. Or if there is, I couldn't find it. And believe me when I say I looked. Hard. For about 5 hours.


So I decided to use my Photoshop skills to create a meme instead, which you will now see at the top right of the blog, until the end of time. I will do my BEST to update it as frequently as possible, so that Brian's insecurities will be regularly tamed. 


Without further ado, here are the current standings on Abby Gabs. Out of 318 posts, Brian has been mentioned (gushed about, turned into a super hero, generally canonized) 104 times. Donnie Wahlberg has been mentioned (and occasionally worshiped) 31 times. And they have both been mentioned in the SAME blog (without incident) 21 times.

There honey. See? I do love you best.

Brian's Confession and a Heart-Stopping Freak Out Moment

Now that the smoke has cleared, the votes have all been tallied, and the score officially revealed, Brian and I were able to have a long, adult conversation about my Donnie Wahlberg obsession.

A: See, I really DO love you more than Donnie Wahlberg.

B: Nu-unh.

A: Yes huh!

B: Nu-UNH!

A: Yes HUH! Crazy uber-jealous man!

B: So's your face.

Ok, that wasn't the adult part of the conversation. This was:

B: I'm really not that jealous of him. I think it's funny.

A: Really?

B: Really. In fact....

...and at this point he said something so profound, I dove for my Droid and immediately asked him to repeat himself on camera.

At first, all I got was sarcasm (my husband's middle name):

Then, finally, after much prodding (and pouting), he made his confession on film, for the world to see.




And so, my occasional Donnie Wahlberg blogs (OMG did you see him dance last night on Dancing with the Stars?) are safe. For now.


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


Now, readers, I'm relying on you to tell me the truth here. What do you see in this picture:

     
Nothing? Really? Ok, how about THIS one:

   
Ok, have you been hanging around with my husband??? Do I need to draw a picture? How's this:

THOSE HAIRS ON MY HEAD ARE GREY!!!!!!!!!!!


*deep breath*


A few days ago, I swear to you, I found a grey hair. Before I thought to myself, "Gee, I should take a picture or show my husband," I plucked that sucker right outta there in a moment of sheer panic.


Once my heart rate slowed and my eyes stopped bugging out of my head, I reasoned, "Surely, it must have been a fluke." 


As in, this particular grey hair, who's life I'd just brutally ended, had MEANT to grow on Old Mother Hubbard's head, and just took a wrong turn and ended up on mine.


Then, this morning, as I was putting on my eyeliner, I saw ANOTHER one. And it brought friends. So, I'm showing you this photographic evidence so I can ask you this question. Is this assumption of mine correct?

I always thought I'd age gracefully. Now I'm not so sure. 

Settling a Score

There's a new four-letter word in our house. Apparently, it starts with the letter D. And ends with -onnie Wahlberg.


Let me say, for the record, that while I do love some Donnie Wahlberg, I flat-out ADORE my husband.


However, I believe he's started feeling threatened by my increased infatuation with the New Kid and Blue Bloods star. The clues were small at first...a raised eyebrow at a mention of Donnie in my blog, eye-rolling at a new photoshopped photo of me with the Don, a passing remark that didn't quite compute but was meant to sink in.


Then he stopped being indirect about the whole thing and just let me know, in no uncertain terms, how he was feeling.


B: So. You blogged about HIM again, huh?
A: Him? Who?
B: HIM. Donnie Wahlberg.
A: Oh. I may have mentioned him, sure. Why?
B: Mentioned? You wrote an entire blog about a dream you had about HIM hugging you.
A: Aw, honey. Are you feeling jealous?


In yesterday's post, I created a photoshopped image that included some of my favorite Twitter stalkees. Donnie was, naturally, included in that image. When Brian shared my blog on his Facebook page (as he dutifully does every day, because he's a wonderful husband and I love him SO!) THIS is what it looked like:

(I know he just misspelled Donnie's name to irk me.)


At any rate, I decided that, if he's going to take score, he should at least have an accurate count. So here, honey, are a couple of lists that will help you take stock of the Donnie versus Brian phenomenon.


Posts That Have Appeared on AbbyGabs That Are About My Husband (IE: he is mentioned at least once, written about in a flattering manner, referred to as a "Genius" and/or treated like the god he is):
1. I Like Lists
2. Here's The Thing About Valentine's Day
3. A Funny Story (At My Husband's Expense)
4. Love Expressions
5. My Husband Picked Today's Blog Topic
6. I'm Not a Cat Burglar...
7. Failure Is Not An Option...Unless It's A Reality
8. My Husband Is a Lurker
9. The Best Advice I Ever Received
10. The Post My Husband Has Been Waiting For

Remember this, honey?

11. I'm Not Good At April Fools Day
12. Comparisons
13. My OCD Takes a New Form
14. The Elephant In Our Living Room
15. Our Television Watching Habits Are Questionable
16. A Post For Brian
17. A Post For Brian, Part Deux

How about this one, dear?

18. Pants Are Bad!
19. Conversation With My Husband
20. Spending Hours In Front of the Mirror Doesn't Make Me Vain


**I would like to point out that this list is ONLY comprised of blogs in which my husband is written about in a significant manner. If I had listed every blog he is even *mentioned* in, we would have an even larger number.**


Posts That Have Appeared On AbbyGabs That Are About Donnie Wahlberg (IE: THIS list comprises of every single post in which his name is used, whether the blog is about him or not.)
1. I'm Only Slightly OCD. Ok, So Maybe I'm OCD. Ah, hell. I'm SO OCD. (*While Donnie's name is not mentioned in this blog, his picture is depicted in the New Kids poster photoshopped on the wall. So, this counts.)
2. Let's Pretend We're 8 Again
3. Thursday Grab Bag (mention only)
4. People I Envy the Most 
5. Random Things I Often Wonder About
6. Comparisons
7. Childhood Memories (*Again, he's just in the poster on the wall.) 
8. The Most Amazing Dream, Ever
9. Twitter Confuses Me




So, if my math is correct, that would bring the current score to:

I think I've made my case.