Twenty Questions, Revisisted

A few months ago, I reached out to my friends, family, and readers, and asked them to submit questions for a video blog. They did, and it turned out to be one of my favorite vlogs I've ever done.

However, there was one friend and reader who went above and beyond the call of duty. The questions she sent me were so fantastic, so funny, and SO PERFECT for Abby Gabs, that I just had to revisit our interview, and post them for you here. Prepare to laugh, because my pal Rachel is one funny gal. 

♥

Rachel: It's said that you turned down the role of Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With The Wind because Clark Gable was unwilling to leave you in the final, crucial scene. On her deathbed, Vivian Leigh cursed you for upstaging her at the premiere where this tidbit came out. Tell us... Did she really give birth to a litter of puppies at that event? And what happened to those said puppies?

Abby: I cannot confirm or deny the rumor of puppies, as I was too busy flirting with Gable and wowing the cameras with my authentic 1930s hairdo. Also, I was giggling in the corner with the Doctor, because how else could I have gone back in time to upstage Leigh, without the transportation of the TARDIS?

R: You've been offered the role of love interest in the new Transformers movie. Michael Bay has offered to Photoshop Megan Fox out of the previous movies. Your own love interest, Brian, is a huge Transformers fan. Will these men influence your decision to accept the role?

A: I had originally turned down the role until Mark Wahlberg, Donnie's brother, contacted me and begged me to do it. I don't normally accept roles under those conditions, but as I'm a close, personal friend of the Wahlbergs, I decided to join the cast so I can work with Mark again.

However, I really don't care what Bay decides to do about Megan Fox. She dug her grave, and now she has to lie in it with cast-off copies of her, *ahem*, "movie," Jennifer's Body.

R: We've all seen the made-for-TV movie, That Gabby Abby. It's a required course in 47 of the 48 continuous states' 5th grade education. How does it make you feel that North Dakota refuses to make it a required course as well?

A: I applaud any and all states' rights to create their own laws, so long as it does not interfere with my bank account. Therefore, I will be staging a peaceful protest on the North Dakota/South Dakota border in the upcoming months. There will be cupcakes, people waving signs around, and a New Kids on the Block cover band. I'm working on getting a cameo appearance by Donnie Wahlberg himself, but he still hasn't confirmed the dates with me as of yet. By the time I'm through, North Dakota will adore me, and my film will be forced down the throats of adolescents in the snowy north as well.

R: You're running for President this year. What is your stance on jeggings and should they be illegal?

A: Here is my public service announcement about that very subject.

R: You come from humble beginnings, and yet you decided to turn down Brangelina's offer to give you their mansion in California. Your landlord went on national television to offer to take down the wood paneling in your country flat, but you refused citing his love for '70s wood paneling and your respect for it. This has sparked a trendy design craze for the wood paneling and designers praise you for your bold statement. There are rumors that you'll be using orange shag carpeting in your home next... Are they true?

A: I was high at that television interview with my landlord. Wood paneling sucks. It should be ripped from every wall in America and burned in a giant bonfire. We'll call it an effigy to bad taste and horrible design. 

I don't mind shag carpet, though.

R: When you bought the new iPhone 5, Siri began speaking exclusively to you, neglecting all other iPhone 5 users and forcing Apple to attempt to correct the glitch. Siri responded by detaching herself from the Apple mainframe and becoming the first recorded sentient computer program. She now claims the title of Abby's BFF and there have been several attempts on the lives of other people who attempt to claim the title as well. Do you feel responsible for her actions?

A: Siri can be difficult to read. She tends to have a split personality, especially when asked questions regarding the space/time continuum, when giving directions to Mars, and when fielding that difficult question of which came first, the chicken or the egg. I cannot comment on the attempted murder claim, as my lawyer advises me against it. What I will say is that Siri is great. She is so great. She is, like, the best friend, ever...I swear...

R: A new phenomenon has been sweeping the world. Leading scientists cannot explain why spiders are giving birth to and randomly turning into fluffy bunnies. Some speculate that it is a direct reaction to the revelation in the Broadway musical hit, That Gabby Abby starting Merryl Streep, that you are frightened of spiders. What are your thoughts?

A: To Drs. Hoffstetter and Cooper, who are leading this research, I send you a huge thanks. Spiders give me the willies. And bunnies are adorable!

R: The New Kids On The Block have recently announced a brand new tour. Donnie Whalberg has gone public with his love for you and has even named the tour, "Abby Will You Marry Me?" He regularly Photoshops himself into pictures with you and has blogged about his obsession many times. You have made it very clear that you love and are faithful to your cabana boy, Brian, going so far as to marry him. What advice would you give others with this level of unrequited love?

A: Ah, unrequited love. It's a sneaky, painful, careless mistress. Here are my tips to those who suffer this terrible fate.

1: Be kind. Regardless of your feelings, there are others in the world who would give anything for a kind word from you. 

2: Be cautious over the words that you choose, but don't be afraid to share a little piece of yourself with your fans, just to make their own lives a little more meaningful.

3: Try to refrain from posting too many racy photographs of yourself on Twitter. Sure, it's fun to get the fans all whipped up into a frenzy, but it's taxing on their hearts. Give sparingly, but give.

♥

Thanks, Rachel, for sending me the most creative questions, ever. I hope you are suitably impressed. :)

I Haz Lasers.

Either I ate something really weird before bed, or I'm having subconscious delusions of grandeur, because I had some doozy of a dream the other night. It was the kind of dream that, when I woke up, I immediately started jotting down notes so I could blog about it. It was weird, and epic, and somewhat sci-fi-y, all in the same brain blip.

So, in the dream, I'm at the optometrist's office, being fitted for new glasses. Brian is sitting behind me, playing Star Wars Angry Birds on his phone, while the doctor flashes the light in my eyes, asking me a string of questions. When the interview is over, he flips on the lights, clears his throat, and informs us that I'm going to need eye surgery to correct my vision. No contact lenses or cat-eye frames are going to do the trick.

In dream land, there's no paperwork or waiting involved. You just flash forward to the day after the surgery is done. I'm sitting in a hospital bed, my head wrapped in bandages. Brian is sitting beside me playing Star Wars Angry Birds on his phone. 

And then the doctor comes in to reveal my shiny new eye sight.

When the bandages come off, not only can I see with perfect vision for the first time since my early twenties, but I can even read the serial number off the bottom of the television on the other side of the room.  WOWZA! That's some surgery!!

The doctor informs me that, for the first forty-eight hours or so after the surgery, I can expect to be amazed by all the many things I can see that I couldn't see before. Then, he promised, it would be just like normal for me. So, we packed up and headed home.

Flash forward again, and I'm bundled up on the couch with Brian, happily watching Doctor Who reruns sans glasses. A shadow passes in the corner of my eye, and I look up. That's when I see it---a giant spider, sneakily snuggled in the corner above our DVD shelf. It's the size of a chihuahua, and not the tea cup kind.

I leap up, shedding afghans and unceremoniously dumping my husband on the floor, and shout, "SPIDER!"

At that point, red lasers come shooting out of my freshly fixed eyeballs, leaving nothing but a black ring of ash where the arachnid used to be.

Insanity ensues. Brian freaks out, spewing information about joining the X-Men and hitting up the Hobby Lobby for red spandex so he can make me a cape. And then, when things settle down, we make a list of all the many different things I can fry with my newfound laser vision.

And then my alarm clock went off. So we'll add it to the list as well.

I Finally Know I'm Not Alone

For years, I've tried to find a way to describe how much I hate spiders.


Screaming works somewhat. Turning the color of pureed peas and dashing from the room works sometimes, too. And there has been a time or two when beating said arachnid to a bloody pulp with whatever I have nearby that's handy (a shoe, a catalog, a chair, a hammer, a cleaver) helps alleviate my fears somewhat.

But when it comes to creating clear and coherent sentences to describe my feelings while I'm occupying the same room as an 8-legged creature of doom, I just can't do it. Everything just comes out sounding like


"KILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITEEEEEEEEEEE!"


So when I found Allie's account of her own terror of spiders on her blog Hyperbole and a Half, I finally felt like there were other people in the world who might hate spiders as much as I do. (Please, oh please, oh PLEASE go read Allie's blog before you read mine. Because truly, it's the funniest thing I've ever read. WAY funnier than what I'm about to write. Oh wait....maybe  you shouldn't go read her blog after all....)


I read Allie's post on the same day as my Most Recent Terror-Inducing Encounter with A Spider This Month. So...in the spirit of sharing...here it goes.


I was sitting on my adorable green sofa, minding my own business, watching an episode of the Gilmore Girls. It was an ordinary Friday evening, and I was in junk food, Netflix heaven. Suddenly, after a particularly humorous Lorelei pun, I happened to notice that my cat, Harry, was sitting on the floor in front of me, staring at a spot somewhere between the ceiling and the floor. 


I didn't think anything of it, because cats often do the "Stare At One Spot For Awhile Because It Seems Intriguing" thing.


A few moments later I noticed that my other cat, Scooter, had joined him in the staring.


Before I even SAW the little monster, I knew exactly what they were staring at.


Trying to calm my breathing and keep my dinner in my stomach as opposed to all over the rug, I sat perfectly still and attempted to focus my eyes on the same spot they were staring at. 


And then, there it was----The Spider---sliding down its icky sticky web like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.


To my credit, I did not scream. 


Because screaming only works if there's someone to hear your screams and then rush to your rescue.


I was home alone.


Except for the cats but they don't think "OMG SPIDER OF DEATH KILL IT," they think, "Oh yea, a new friend! Let's bat him around until all his legs fall off then eat him!"


In what feels like a ten-year time span, but what in reality was probably 10 seconds, I come up with The Most Brilliant Plan Known To Man. Except that plan was to beat the ever-loving crap out of that spider with my shoe.


I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more.


And the damn thing never continued its disgusting trip down its web. It just stayed there, dangling from the ceiling, as if taunting me with its hairy little self. 


UGH.


So, I decided to stop waiting, and took matters into my own hands. It went something like this:

KILLITKILLITKILLITEEEEE!!

I did it! It's dead! Hooray for me!

Oh, snap. What if it's NOT dead? What if it's just waiting for me to move these shoes just slightly so it can jump out and eat my face??????

WAAAAAAAAAAH!

I stood there, frozen, for eleven years, and wondered what my fate would be if I just dropped the shoes and ran for the hills.


Eventually, I started breathing again, and my mind started working enough to begin thinking "Where the hell is that wonderful husband of mine when I really need him?" That's when I devised Phase Two of my Not So Brilliant Plan Afterall.


After careful planning (as much as I could without drawing a diagram and calling in reinforcements. Because let's face it, those shoes weren't budging) I took a deep breath and launched Phase Two. Which went something like this:

Grip shoes, with *hopefully* dead spider carcass with one hand while...

...opening the front door with the other hand so I could...

...launch shoes out front door, with *hopefully* dead carcass still smooshed between Loafers 1 and 2...

...and breathe. And don't pass out or throw up...

Because my husband knows me so well, he didn't even question the sprawled loafers in the front yard when he got home from work later that night. He just checked for bodies, picked them up and brought them in.


And I *know* illustrations would've been funnier....but unlike Allie, I can't even draw spiders. 


Even cartoons of spiders creep me out.


So....maybe I am alone.