Happiness Is A List (An AbbyGabs Video Blog)

It's a good day. The kind of day that makes me happy to be alive. In fact, I'm in such a good mood that I made a list of all the things that are making me happy and turned them into a quick video blog, all for your viewing pleasure.  





What are you happy about today, readers? Tell me all about it in the comments below. Happy Weekend!

This video is dedicated to gal pal, Arielle, for lodging a formal protest yesterday about my lack of video blogs lately. She's a fan, and that's one of many reasons why I adore her. So I whipped up this little ditty just to make her laugh.

Funny Conversations With My Husband: The Difference Between Presents and Necessities

Brian recently started working full-time as an RN. It's so exciting!! Not just because he's finally living his dream, and putting his education to good use. But because he's nearly tripled his salary.

That's right, I said tripled.

So naturally, when he got his first pay check, we sort of felt like this:

We're not exactly swimming in cash, but his first check, paired with our tax refund money, left us giddy with that "holy crap we're rich" feeling. And so, we did what all good Americans do when they find themselves "in the money."

We went out yesterday and spent some.

After months of dreaming about, talking about, and drooling over an air brush kit for his most recent hobby (customizing and hand-painting Transformers), Brian finally took the plunge yesterday and bought one. This particular kit, and all the bells and whistles needed to make it actually work, set us back about $250. For the housewife who recently was trying her best to stretch $50 to last two weeks (i.e., ME) I had a little bit of sticker shock. But he's really been wanting one, and we definitely had the money in the account for it. So the "green light" was given, and he happily marched up to the register at Hobby Lobby with the air brush kit under his arm.

(Not really, because Jacob the cashier wouldn't let us walk through the store with the giant box by ourselves, because we might stuff it under our shirts and try to walk out with it.)

(Also, if you haven't noticed the money puns I've been using, I'm very sad. Go back and look for them. I'll wait.)

As we loaded his purchases into the back of the car, the following conversation took place:

Abby: So, when do I get my big ticket, $250, "We Have Lots of Money Now Woohoo" present?
Brian: Oh, yeah. I've been meaning to tell you, if you wanted to go ahead and schedule your eye exam so you can get some new glasses, that would be ok.
Abby: Are you kidding?
Brian: ... ... ... What?
Abby: You get to spend $250 on a super-fun toy, and you think that is equivalent to me getting my eyes dilated and getting a new prescription for glasses?
Brian: I mean, you've been asking for glasses for awhile now...
Abby: That's because I CAN'T SEE!
Brian: Ok, Ok...I get it...
Abby: It's been THREE YEARS since I got new glasses, and I have to squint with the ones I'm wearing now just to read road signs!
Brian: I know! I'm sorry, I didn't mean...
Abby: I mean, seriously...that's like winning the lottery, and you get a shiny new car, and I get to go in for a colonoscopy.
Brian: I get it, I get it...I'm sorry. 
Abby: ... ... ...
Brian: So, what big ticket item do you want?
Abby: I don't know. Diamond-studded glasses?


Watch out, world. Here I come.

Addendum

After publishing yesterday's post (all about how I fell in the shower and the subsequent pity party I threw for myself), I managed to trip no less than four times in front of Brian, nearly wiping out each time.

In complete seriousness, he looked at me and said, "If you don't stop it, I'm going to wrap you in bubble wrap."

Cuz I'm first class cargo, readers.

Thanks for all your comments and concerns. I'm on the mend and feeling much better (and brighter) today. But don't be surprised if, the next time you see me, I'm wrapped in yards of bubble wrap. He sounded serious, y'all.

How I Lost My Battle Against Gravity And The Bathtub

So, last Wednesday, I slipped and fell in my tub.

Now, I know what you're thinking, readers. That sounds HILARIOUS! Surely, this post will be filled with a humorous story, illustrated with funny cartoons...and it will most certainly finish with a zinger of a punchline! This is gonna be great!

But in truth, friends and neighbors, it's hard for me to joke about the incident just yet. Mainly because laughing (as well as sneezing, yawning, farting, stretching, and lifting) hurts like hell.

Here's how it went down. If you'll recall, we live in an apartment that was decorated in the early 80s. We have the pleasure of enjoying fake wood paneling, cheap carpet, and a wallpaper-covered piece of plywood that serves as the back splash behind our oven. Needless to say, the tub is no exception to the rule. It used to be one of those with a textured bottom, to help keep its inhabitants from slipping. But since it's been used now for almost 25 years, that helpful texturing is now gone. 

In the past few years, we've spent a fair amount of dough trying to remedy this problem, mostly with bath mats. We've had them in all shapes, sizes, and textures. 

And recently, we'd found one that seemed to work. Sure, it would gradually slide a little to the right from time to time, but we always were able to pull it up, and restick it to the bottom of the tub for maximum anti-slippage. 

So after an hour-long torture session at the gym on Wednesday morning, I wasn't even thinking about the potential for a rib-crushing fall as I stepped into our middle-aged shower. In fact, I was more focused on my aching legs and abs---which is why, when the bath mat came out from underneath me like Tony Hawk's first skateboard, I was more shocked than anything else.

I vaguely remember thinking to myself, while staring at my red toenails as they soared over my head, that I was impressed my pedicure was going on 2 weeks old without chipping.

And then...impact.

If I'd just let gravity take its natural course, and landed on my really round rumpus, I probably would've bounced a couple of times and been fine. However, in an instinct older than time, I tried to catch myself by putting my arms out. It worked---I did manage to catch myself. But  my entire body weight came crashing down onto the lip of the tub, ribs-first, where my arm worked as the brake. I also bashed my head into the wall. I was left breathless and seeing stars.

I sat in the bottom of the tub for what felt like hours, the water beating down on me, trying to take a breath. But the impact had knocked the wind out of me, and the only thing I was able to squeeze out were a few rogue tears. 

My cat, Dizzy, however, had no problem filling his lungs. As soon as I started trying to gasp for breath, he instantly knew something was wrong and began yowling at the top of his voice. I thought for sure that Brian would have come running at this point, but he'd been vacuuming the living room when I'd headed toward the shower. Naturally, despite Dizzy's best efforts, Brian couldn't hear him over the roar of the vacuum. Finally, I took a huge breath, and my chest filled with fire and glass. I shouted for Brian--once, twice, and finally a third time. By the time he found me, the pain associated with the fall had started to set in, and my muscles began shivering in protest.

I came away from the accident with bruised ribs, achy muscles, and a very minor concussion. 

Sounds pretty bad, right?

That's because it was.

So much so that I threw myself a big ol' pity party this weekend. Party excitement included: closed blinds, stretchy pants, pain killers, multiple blankets, junk food, old movies, avoidance of phone calls and text messages, occasional mournful glances at my bruises in the mirror, and absolutely no eye-contact (even with my cats.)

I watched depressing movies, cried a lot, and generally felt sorry for myself, from morning till night. It was SO much fun. Aren't you glad I didn't invite you?

In conclusion, I'll be adding the following items to my 2013 wish list: anti-gravity boots, full body armor, and a football helmet.

Oh, and a new bath mat would be nice, too.

(Look at that! I managed a somewhat snappy punchline after all. Go me.)

Munchkin Quest--Our Newest Obsession

This post is going to read a little like an advertisement. But that's ok. Because Brian and I have a new nerdy obsession, and I absolutely must share it with you. 

Raise your hand if you've ever heard of Munchkin Quest!

***crickets***

Yeah, that's ok. I'd never heard of it either. But in our eternal quest to reach "Nerdvana," we stumbled upon this little board game in the vast reaches of the world wide web. And since it arrived at our door step a few days ago, we have been playing it non-stop.

Munchkin Quest is a dungeon-crawler board game, much like Dungeons and Dragons (so I've heard.) (Dungeon Crawler=Role-playing game where players explore a labyrinth, fighting monsters and using magic along the way.) (Still with me? Ok, good.)

Anywhoo, the purpose of this little game is to wander from room to room, defeating scary monsters, and leveling up your player. Sounds pretty simple, right?

WRONG.

This game has eleventy-billion rules. Seriously. It comes with a rule book 20-pages thick. There are numerous dice to be rolled, a mountain of cards to figure out, and rules upon rules to be memorized. 

But don't let that information daunt you. There are SO many things I love about this game. 

*It is cutthroat. It is way too easy to pull the rug out from beneath your opponent's feet. All it takes is the luck of the draw, and the guts to actually play the card when the time arises.

*It has a sense of humor. What other game do you know of that allows you to curse your opponent by tossing a chicken on his head, rendering him unable to fight with 100% accuracy?

*It is about luck, not skill. It doesn't matter how awesome you think you are at this game, if the cards and the dice aren't with you, then you will not win. (Unless the cards and the dice decide to join your team about halfway through---then it is entirely possible to win, even if you've been down by 5 or 6 levels the entire game.)

But my FAVORITE thing about Munchkin Quest are the cartoons on the cards. They are HILARIOUS, people. You'll draw a weapon that is a Sword That Kills Everything (Except Squid.) You'll fight monsters like the Leperchaun (a leprechaun with leprosy) or the Zombees (undead bumble bees). 

Just to give you a small taste of the Munchkin realm, here are a couple of illustrations depicting how Brian and I ended our most recent game.

Brian as an Elf Warrior, sporting Butt-Kicking Boots,
carrying a Step-Ladder (for those hard-to-reach monsters)
and cursed with an Evil Chicken.

Me as a Halfling Wizard,
wearing the Amulet of Fire-Breath,
with a Fire-Breathing Shoulder Dragon as my pet.

 The hairy toes are my favorite part.

So if you're looking for a board game to while away the hours while you slowly become the nerdiest person in your social group, I suggest you pick up Munchkin Quest. It's a little on the pricey side, but it's definitely worth the gold pieces you'll throw down for it. Because I promise you--you'll be speaking the lingo and tossing around the insults like a true Munchkin in no time.