Abby's Three Sure-Fire Ways To Get Yourself Out Of A Funk (Or, Drink A Lot of Sake)

I mentioned a few days ago that I've been having a bad case of the blues. There are several contributing factors to my funk...ranging from work woes to familial fracas (fracii?) to persistent worry over friends. Quite frankly, there have been a few days in the past month that I've just wanted to either A) pack a bag and catch the next flight outta here, preferably to a tropical climate where there is always copious amounts of rum or B) crawl back into bed, pull the covers over my head, and sleep my life away.


As it often goes, life doesn't work that way. As much as I deeply desire to have my ass in the sand and a beer in my hand, I just can't get away right now. (Isn't that a country music song? If not, it should be.) And so, I've found other ways to cope with this unsolicited depression. Some things have worked, others have not. Today, I'm sharing with you the list of things that worked...the good, the bad, and the sake.

Abby's DIY Funk-Removal Program

Get thine arse off the couch and get outside.

When it's sunny, and 65, and absolutely gorgeous, you shouldn't stay inside watching reruns of Friends on TBS. That's what I'd been telling myself for about a week when I finally took my own advice. On Wednesday, I got up at 5:30, put on my shoes, and went for a jog. Then, invigorated, I hopped in my car and drove myself to Lowe's, where I spent a large chunk of my paycheck on living green things.

A few pots, a couple of bags of potting soil, and my iPod plugged in, I spent the better part of the morning planting my annual container garden. There's something therapeutic about having your hands in the soil. My pretty little petunias agree.

This year, I'm growing tomatoes, basil, cilantro, dill, and strawberries. I'm already looking forward to harvesting their bounty. There is nothing in the world as wonderful as my favorite Springtime Pasta, especially when the tomatoes and basil come from my very own garden.

 I also took the opportunity to fill my new cheery bird feeders. I've already been thoroughly thanked by the local bird population. I've woken up the past two mornings greeted with birdsong---cardinals, blue jays, mourning doves, purple finches, house wrens, grackles....and I'm holding my breath that I'll see a Carolina Wren before too much longer. 

My plants, my birds, my sunshine....better than Prozac. I'm tellin' ya.

Get thine arse dressed up and go on a double date with friends.

After scrubbing all the dirt out from underneath my fingernails, I donned a pretty spring dress and headed out for a double date with our friends, Steven and Arielle. We went to an amazing Thai-fusion restaurant called Bambu (which just so happens to be run by our dear friend, Sam.)

Let me remind you that we live in the sticks. And all the cool stuff to do is in Charleston. And because we live in the sticks, and Charleston is almost an hour away, we don't always get to do all the same cool stuff that all the cool Charleston kids do. Well, Wednesday was my day to be cool. 

I drank sake. I engaged in witty and intelligent conversation. I ate sushi (for the first time, ever.)

Did I mention that I drank sake? Not just your run-of-the-mill sake, but apple-infused sake. It tasted like little shots of apple pie. So. Stinkin'. Good.

I will mention here that sake makes me a little silly. Case in point: I was absolutely fascinated with the sinks in the ladies' bathroom at Bambu. So much so, that I took a video. Don't believe me? Here it is:

It's ok. You can laugh at me. It's laugh-worthy.

So, after 3 (or was it 4?) shots of sake, a couple glasses of wine, the most delicious food I've eaten in months, and the kind of gut-busting laughter that only comes with the company of really great friends, life was good again. It was like getting a big ol' shot of happy, right in my arm. 

I'm totally ready to do it all over again. (Especially the sake. Did I mention the sake? Oh my lord, the sake...)

Get thine arse in your pajamas and spend the day doing absolutely nothing special with your spouse or significant other.

What can I say about this one other than it works?? Our day went like this:

*Cereal. 

*Pointless conversation. 

*Headline News. 

*Sports Center. 

*Skyrim time. (Yes, we play together. One drives, the other navigates. What? It's adorable.)

*Pause for Abby to make lunch (curry chicken salad sandwiches with fresh pineapple).
*Lunch with a movie (Comic-Con: Episode IV, created by the esteemed and adored Joss Whedon. It was the best stinkin' documentary, ever. If you have any love for nerdism, watch it!)

*Brian builds a new Transformer's shelf and rearranges his collection. Abby takes pictures and tries not to laugh at her husband.

My living room looks like Hasbro puked all over it.

*More Skyrim time.
*<edited for content>
*Pause for Abby to cook dinner (gorgeous steaks with collard greens and corn on the cob--Brian's favorite meal.)
*Eat dinner with another movie (We Bought a Zoo--really great, feel-good movie. Loved it.)
*Early bedtime for reading, snuggling, and talking about how awesome our day just was. Vow to do it again next Thursday.

*   *   *   *   *

Are you down and out? Feeling moody? More interested in moping than moving? If so, try these three fail proof methods of lifting your mood. They will work every single time. I swear. 

I just managed to make this whole blog sound like a Hairclub for Men commercial. Because I'm just that awesome.

*   *   *   *  *

Also, thanks to those of you who have visited Sunshine for Everett since my post on Tuesday. I'm thrilled and beyond-excited to announce that we've already had a few donations come through, both here and on SforE!!! Everett continues his battle with HUS, and for daily updates, you can visit his new blog. Thanks for all your support and continued prayers!!

Adulthood is *Awesome*

My husband came in the house yesterday afternoon with a handful of mail and a scowl on his face.


"Are you KIDDING ME??? <insert string of profanities here>"


He then paused, took a closer look at the letter in question, then grinned sheepishly and said, "Oh wait, it's not MY name on the envelope. It's yours."


I can't even begin to tell you how excited I was about the letter before I even saw what it was. I mean, based on his reaction you'd have thought I'd just gotten a jury summons or something.


Oh wait. That's EXACTLY what I got.


I have been a registered voter in South Carolina for a little over 7 years now, and have never served jury duty before. So I can't say I'm surprised to have received the summons. However, upon perusing the contents of the envelope, there was one specific line on the summons that left the blood cold in my veins.

Wait just a cotton-pickin' minute. Does that say....they couldn't possibly mean....does that seriously say...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!




How, dear reader, am I supposed to keep myself occupied for an ENTIRE DAY whilst sitting in a courtroom waiting to be...juried??? How am I supposed to Twitter-stalk Donnie Wahlberg, update my Facebook status, maintain my fantasy football team, and play Angry Birds without my phone?? How am I supposed to let my husband know how miserable/bored/sleepy/hungry/annoyed I am if I can't text him every five minutes??!?


Don't these people know that my phone is my lifeline to the outside world? Don't they know that my Droid is my BEST FRIEND?!?!?!?


*Pant pant pant pant pant....*


Huh. 


*Abby re-reads last paragraph and wonders if she has a problem.*


Maybe a day away from my phone isn't such a bad idea after all.

Spending Hours in Front of a Mirror Doesn't Make Me Vain

It makes me determined.


Some of you may remember that, recently, I posted a blog confessing my frustration at being unable to move my eyebrows independently of each other.


Well, readers, I'm proud to say that I've been practicing hard, and I've made some progress!!! And so, although this will be a short post today, I'm including a video of my unruly brows, for your viewing pleasure.








And people said it couldn't be done. Bah!

Pants Are Bad!

The phrase that sent yesterday into a tailspin:

B: "I'm SO happy that I don't have to work or go to class today. I'm celebrating by staying in my pajama pants ALL DAY LONG."

Wait, let me back up.

I've mentioned it before, I'll mention it again. My hard-working husband is currently working full-time while going to school full-time. This makes scheduling normal, everyday things a bit more complicated. Like meal-planning. Especially since I joined Weight Watchers (about 12 days ago). 

In an unprecedented move, Brian gave up his late night bar shift so he could stay home yesterday and recharge.

Wonderful! Excellent! Best plan ever!

Except I hadn't planned for it.

This sent me into panic mode.

I knew my hubby wanted to stay in his jammies. However, I didn't have anything "Husband-Approved" to feed us for lunch. My brain scrambled through the ingredients I had stored in the fridge, and I ran through quick recipes in my head. I knew he wouldn't eat one of the frozen meals I had stashed for just such occasions. Leftovers from the night before were out (Vegetarian pasta. My husband scoffs if there's no meat involved.) 

Wait! I had planned on grilled chicken salads for dinner....maybe I could just do that for lunch, and bump Sunday's planned meal up. That will work!!! I found a solution that would work without my hubby having to put on pants. Yay me!

So off to the kitchen I go to prepare said salads. Except when I open the chicken it smells like a dead bird. (Which it is. Except it smelled dead, and it's not supposed to smell dead.)

My carefully altered plans go down in flames.

Brian joins me as I freak out in the kitchen.

A: I don't have anything to feed you for lunch! I hadn't planned for this! I don't know what to do!

B: Honey, don't worry about it. I can just put on some pants and run to the store.

A: NO! Pants are BAD! You said you wanted to stay in your pajama pants all day, and you NEED to stay in your pajama pants all day, and relax, and recover, and do nothing while I take care of you. That's what today is supposed to be about. It's the FIRST DAY OFF you've had in 3 weeks!!! LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!

At this point, the contents of the fridge have been spilled out onto the floor, I'm rummaging through cabinets, unearthing old canned goods from 1998, and I'm totally out of options. In my dieting frenzy, I somehow managed to get rid of every single food item that my husband would willingly consume. The only option left is to go buy more food.

But I refuse to let him get dressed.

SO--I left him in charge of the office, gave him direct orders to stay in his PJs, even if someone came in to pay, and ran out the door for provisions.

As I pulled into the grocery store parking lot, I had this sinking suspicion that my husband had put on pants. This was not ok with me. So I sent him a sideways, phone-recorded plea:

Because sometimes, going pantless is the thing you need to do to truly enjoy your day off. And I made sure my husband got to enjoy his day off. PJ pants and all.

*If you can't see the video, go here: http://youtu.be/8bCwMyEaC94

A Reenactment, A Dramatic Story, and a Guest Post

For those readers who checked in on me over the weekend, I thank you. Truly, I am fine, and as you can see, AbbyGabs is back up and running.


For those who didn't email, call, or send fruit baskets, let me just say that Saturday was, to this date, the most traumatic day for me as a blog author, ever.


I came to my computer, preparing to write a rather genius blog (to come Wednesday) and found, to my absolute horror, that AbbyGabs was nowhere to be found.


It went something like this:






(If you can't see the video, go here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9reJhCZw7QQ)


Well, at least that's what happened at first. I'll spare you the shouting, cursing, fist-shaking, nervous breakdown, etc. Oh, and the close-up of me crying, reminiscent of the infamous Blair Witch Project scene.


As you probably know, while AbbyGabs is its own domain, it is powered through Blogger....which is powered through Google. (You may already see where this is going, so feel free to shake your head in consternation as I continue this story.)


When I noticed there was a problem with my site, I immediately went looking for help from the pros. There is no way to contact Google, or Blogger, directly (which took me an hour to find out) so I headed for the help forums. I noticed there were a few similar complaints on the forum, so I checked in with them first. They weren't receiving much help from said "HELP" forum, so we started bantering back and forth, trying to troubleshoot our own problem.


I also posted a "HELP ME BEFORE I HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN" thread for my own humble little blog.


An hour in, we still hadn't heard from any of the moderators. Meanwhile, more and more people were creeping in with the same issue. 


That issue was this: when we went to our domains, using any browser available to man, we received the message that "www.thatwebsite.com" cannot be found. Cache copies were available, but we couldn't open the domains. 


Consequently, I couldn't open their domains and they couldn't open mine.


However, friends and family and my therapist all said my blog was perfectly visible to them.


HUH?


So....back to the forums. At approximately 11 am (2 hours, 2 very large cups of coffee, and a handful of diazepams later....)(just kidding) I finally had a response from a moderator, who we'll call Blogger Nazi for the purposes of this post.


Was the response from Blogger Nazi helpful, kind, or in anyway relevant?


No. 


He said, "If you want my help, please remove any posts from this forum that are unnecessary, confusing, or inflammatory."


That left me incensed. And baffled, considering my responses in other threads were basically, "Me, too!" and "Hey, what a coincidence!" and "I don't think there's a way to contact Google directly."


But, being desperate for help, I complied with Mr. Douchebag's Blogger Nazi's request. 


Then, for the next 2 hours, he decided to dump link after link after link to his "Here's How To Fix Your Blog" blog, filled with techno-speak that you need a degree to understand. He kept asking me the same questions over and over and over again, asking for clarifications, for me to be "specific" and "less emotional" in my responses. He kept insisting that my blog wasn't down, because he could see it, and that it was obviously an error in my part since clearly, I'm a newbie and an idiot and I have no idea what I'm talking about.


Until I sent him about 15 links to other bloggers who were having the same problem.


That shut him up, and quick.


When the mob arrived brandishing pitch forks and lit torches, Blogger Nazi finally compiled a list of complaints and turned them in to Blogger.


Who turned them in to Google.


Who turned them in to GoDaddy.com.


And THEN we found out that, in fact, it wasn't an isolated incident, but it was an issue with GoDaddy all along. Apparently, there was a large DDOS attack in two of their data centers.


I have no idea what a DDOS attack is...sounds like something from World of Warcraft to me. 

Aww...cute little orcs, aren't they?

At any rate, GoDaddy cleaned up all the dragons and beasties, and now my site is back up and running.


No thanks to Captain Jerkface Blogger Nazi.


Well, sort of thanks to him, but he could've just lodged a complaint without being so mean. He called my blog superfluous. SUPERFLUOUS. Can you believe that??? 


I should send my orc pals after him.


Anyway, during all the chaos, I got a lot of help and support...and even got an amazing offer to do a guest post for my friend, Tricia, at her blog, The Katnip Lounge! She was a fan of The FatKat Kronicles, and I've gotten a lot of requests to bring Scoot and his pals back....so, I'm kicking off my soon-to-launch weekly FatKat comic strip over at the Lounge today! So, head on over to The Katnip Lounge to read my very first Guest Post!! It will make me forget all about Saturday's debacle.


Almost....