Category Archives: Photoshopped Post

Slainte!

Today is St. Patrick’s Day (in case you were wondering why people are walking around in green from head to toe and shouting Gaelic phrases at you while drinking Guinness from their coffee mug.)

There are lots of reasons I love St. Patrick’s Day (the coffee mug of Guinness is only one of them.) While I know my family is of Irish decent, I’m probably only 1/67th% Irish. But that doesn’t keep me from celebrating our heritage, and with gusto. Here are a few of my favorite things about St. Patrick’s Day.

The Food
Look, guys, I’m not going to sugar coat it for you. I’m Irish, and I love potatoes. I think it might be written in the law somewhere that Irish people have to love spuds. Even though I’ve been eating healthy for the past year, we still have potatoes around here on the regular. (There are some things you just make room for in your healthy eating plan. Like potatoes. And chocolate ice cream.) We also visit our favorite local pub on an alarmingly frequent basis. (They know us by name. And order, because we always get the same thing.)

There’s something about Irish food…the kind you make on St. Patrick’s Day…that just takes “comfort food” to the next level. Shepherd’s Pie, Corned Beef and CabbageIt just doesn’t get any better than that.

But…it sort of does. Our family’s most favorite Irish recipe is Whiskey-Braised Pork Shoulder with Colcannon.

Whiskey braised pork
<Paused for drool clean-up.>

It’s just…I mean…look at that…I can’t even.

Just trust me. Read the recipe. Buy the ingredients. Cook this meal. And thank me later.

The Sentiment
I always wondered where my penchant for sage advice came from–both the giving and the receiving. I’m guessing it must be my Irish blood, because the blessings and phrases and quotes that come out of Ireland are some of my favorites.

“Lose an hour in the morning, and you’ll be looking for it all day.”

“You’ll never plow a field by turning it over in your mind.”

“You’ve got to do your own growing, no matter how tall your father was.”

(It’s imperative that, when reading these quotes, you drop all the g’s, and put on your thickest Irish brogue. Trust me, it just works.)

These phrases don’t necessarily have to do with the celebration of St. Paddy’s, but they tend to come out of the woodwork around this time of year. There’s nothing better than a good turn of phrase to get my juices flowing. And I also happen to love some of the Irish blessings that show up on Facebook on March 17. My favorite?

Irish wish

Tis the wish I wish for you, my friend.

The Parties
There are lots of other holidays that have parties that try to rival St. Patrick’s Day—Cinco de Mayo, Independence Day, Christmas, my birthday. They just don’t hold a candle to the parades, the dancing, and the merriment that we Irish partake of…well, pretty much year round, but especially on St. Patrick’s Day. Savannah, Charleston, Boston, NYC…you don’t have to look very hard to find a rowdy group of Irishmen (and women!) ready to don their favorite green gear and spend the day searching for the luck of their people.

Plus, you know…there’s the Guinness.

 

st patty's day

What else do you need to officially claim St. Patrick’s Day to be the most fun holiday, ever?

A half-assed Photoshopped picture of me as a dancing leprechaun?

Fine.

Abby leprechaun

There. I win. St. Patrick’s Day RULES.

A Conversation With My Blog

Hello, old friend. How I’ve missed you! I’ve thought of you often these last two weeks, and wondered when we’d see each other again. It’s been far too long, Blog. Far too long.

I hope you’ll forgive me for being so lax about maintaining our relationship lately. I’ve had a full plate, and while that isn’t a terrific excuse for neglecting a friend, it is the only one I can offer up to you today.

Yes, yes … we are fine. Thank you for asking. We’ve just been so focused on the adoption process and all that comes with it. Most of my free time recently has been consumed with creating pages for our adoption portfolio. What’s that? Well, Blog, an adoption portfolio is something we send to the agency that they will, in turn, share with potential biological families looking for a match. In essence, our adoption portfolio is like a giant, colorful pamphlet, filled with all the stuff a bio mom would want to know about us.

Of course! I’d be happy to share a few of those pages with you!

Brian's About Me Adoption Portfolio Page

This is Brian’s “About Me” page.

Abby's About Me Adoption Portfolio Page

This is my “About Me” page.

Abby's Hobbies Adoption Portfolio Page

And look, Blog…you’re right here, included in the pages of the most important scrapbook I’ve ever created! Of COURSE I included you … you’re my favorite hobby!

So you can probably see why I’ve been so preoccupied lately. It took a lot of time to filter through our thousands upon thousands of photos to select just the right ones for our book.

You don’t have to tell me that twice, Blog. I know that organizing my photos in a more user-friendly fashion would have helped me accomplish this project in a couple of days, versus a couple of weeks. But old habits die hard, friend. Plus, I’d rather spend my free time with YOU now that it’s all finished, rather than reorganizing my computer files.

Aww. Thanks, Blog. I love you, too.

I know it’s been a brief catch-up for us today, but don’t fret! I have lots of fun planned for us in the upcoming days and weeks. And don’t worry–even when I might disappear for awhile, I’ll always come back to you. Real friends are like that, you know.

(Click for source)

(Click for source)

See you soon, Blog!

All my love,
Abby

Abby Is Not Impressed

For the last few days, my various social media sites have been filling up with posts about snow. So many of those posts are photos of families happily playing in giant piles of the fluffy white stuff: sledding, making snow cream, building giant snowmen, warming up with hot chocolate and homemade cookies.

You know the photos, they’re in your timelines too (unless you live in San Diego, and if that’s the case, you suck and I want to live in your guest room.)

I’m talking about photos like this one:

Source

Source

You guys, with your adorable mittens and your matching scarves, make winter look like SO MUCH FUN!

Well, winter has come to South Carolina. And can I just say? Winter is NOT fun.

Not. At. All.

Specifically, winter sucks when it only entails of freezing rain, sleet, and ice. And with those things comes no power, downed power lines, and falling trees.

When it comes to winter, I’m not impressed.

Snow me

(Look at me, being all relevant to current events while still making jokes. Go me.)

Here’s the truth of it: yesterday, we got almost an entire inch of ice here in the land of severe humidity and tropical weather. And it was over 60 degrees in Sochi. At the WINTER Olympics. Freezing temps, for the gold.

While we only lost power for four hours yesterday, my family was electricity-less for nearly 12 hours. I have friends who live out in the country who are STILL without power. And the tree limbs just keep on fallin’.

So, Mother Nature, I’d like you to take this whole winter thing and shove it. I’ll take my 85 degrees and the sand between my toes any day.

*For those of my Northern friends dealing with feet of snow as opposed to inches, I realize you’ll read this and think, “She doesn’t know the meaning of winter.” Truth is—this is as scary as cold weather gets for us near the SC coast. So while we may not be buried beneath Mother Nature’s snowy bosom, we are frantically trying to cope after being hit with a second severe ice storm in three weeks. When you don’t have salt trucks, or winter coats, or strong and manly trees, it gets sorta hectic. So sympathize with us, even if it’s just a little. And maybe send us a snow plow, just in case.*

Antarctica? Really??

Now that I’ve fully admitted to my shiny new love affair with Zachary Levi, I feel comfortable enough to tell you about my social media interactions with him. A few days ago, I checked my Twitter feed and found this:

Capture

Shekinah is his sister. NOT his girlfriend. I googled it.

OK, I realize that he just finished up a Broadway show and that he’s currently between gigs right now, so a vacation with friends and family to somewhere remote and quiet is probably just the time off he needs.

But ANTARCTICA, Zachypoo? Really???

Since the post, I’ve been having all sorts of nightmares that jolt me awake at night shivering from the imagined cold and ice and wind and snow. They often involve my love fighting off/being eaten/running away from one of the many forms of wildlife that roam the frozen tundra of the Arctic.

Blog 1

It terrifies me down to my very toes. Couldn’t he have chosen a warmer locale? A place where the only “death” he would have to worry about is Tiki Death Punch? Wouldn’t it be so much more relaxing to have your toes in the sand rather than in danger of frostbite? Am I the only one who doesn’t understand this vacation spot choice??

I mean, I’m sure the Antarcticans are thrilled to have him. Who wouldn’t be? He was a sexy-nerd-turned-international-super-spy on TV’s CHUCK for 5 years. I’m sure they’ve rolled out the red carpet for Zac and his friends.

Blog 2

Were I a penguin, I’d be standing there in all my fuzzy glory wearing my Nerd Herd t-shirt and waving around a “KISS ME ZAC” sign with the rest of them. But alas, I am a southern girl, and cold to me means 40 degrees with relative humidity. Forty below? Sorry, Zac. I’m out.

Perhaps I should launch a Twitter campaign to convince him to come back home. I’d be glad to meet him in Southern California, and I’m pretty sure I could make his Antarctica dreams come true. We could just go into his apartment/house/condo/mansion, close the blinds, turn the AC down as low as it could go, and share a pot of homemade hot chocolate in our very special mugs.

Blog 3

And if he was still bored and wanted something more exhilarating to connect him to Mother Nature, I’d just pop “Free Willy” or “Sharknado” into the DVD player and we’d be all set. Sounds like the PERFECT week off to me.

He probably wouldn’t go for it. But I still think it’s important to warn Zac, his posse, and the Antarctic officials that it’s imperative that they don’t let Zachary Levi walk around smiling the whole time he’s in Antarctica. With that 1000-watt smile? It would finish off the already-melting ice caps, and we’d all be in some serious danger.

To match feature CLIMATE/ANTARCTICA

So, a note to recap…

Dear Zac,
If you see a polar bear, please stay far enough away from it that it doesn’t sniff you out and try to chase you down. I’m not the only one who thinks you’re a tasty morsel. Secondly, the penguins may be your biggest fans, but they smell bad and will just run away if you try to hug them. I, however, do NOT smell and will NOT run away from a hug. Also, my offer still stands. I’ve gotten my AC down to at least 60 before–and I make a mean pot of hot chocolate. I can also spray you in the face with ice water, if you’re going for realism. And finally—watch that smile, pal. Global warming is a real thing–be kind to the environment and keep those pearly whites under lock and key.
Love,
Your Shiny New Pretend Stalker Girlfriend

I Know, I Know. I’ve Been Gone For Two Whole Weeks…

…And I know your minds are all in a whirlwind trying to figure out where in the world I’ve been. So I’m here to dispel any rumors that have started on the internets regarding my whereabouts.

I did not, in fact, pack up my bags and my husband and take a whirlwind tour of New York’s version of ComicCon.

I did not go to space camp, or take a month-long sabbatical to Italy to learn how to make the perfect bolognese sauce, or visit the Doctor Who museum in Cardiff.

Nay. For the past two weeks, I spent my time with my toes in the sand of a very private, very beautiful island with my new pretend celebrity boyfriend, Nathan Fillion.

Nathan 1

That would be a great excuse to explain my fourteen-day absence, right??

No?

Ok, fine. I did NOT spend the last fortnight letting Captain Mal rub sunscreen on my knees. I did, however, spend it redecorating my house.

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Not nearly as stimulating as a moonlit stroll on the beach with Captain Hammer, but I still rather enjoyed the process. (At least the part that didn’t involve me driving around the greater Charleston area looking for the perfect rug for the space…which wound up being the very first one I saw at Target.)

We also converted our craft/catchall/home gym room into a guest room…which started with a 2-day process of refinishing a thrift store headboard…

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…and ended with a sunshine-yellow comforter…

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…and the perfect accessories…

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Making the decision to redecorate was an easy one–particularly when the last remaining furniture any guest could sleep on finally fell apart. We love entertaining, and we love having visitors, but people are less likely to stay the night if they have to sleep in the bathtub. So…we put our heads together and came up with a layout that we love, that is functional, but that is also beautiful. And I’m a happy…if tired…girl.

We celebrated by inviting some of our favorite people to spend the night…

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…and while Tina and Charlene both approve of the improvements, there’s really only one opinion that matters most. That of our resident felines.

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16

I think we did ok.

It’s Official: We’re On a Break.

My name is Abby, and I’m the author and CEO of AbbyGabs (dot) com. I am preparing this statement today in order to share with you my feelings regarding the newly publicized relationship between my pretend celebrity boyfriend, Mr. Donald Edmond Wahlberg, Jr., and one Jennifer “Jenny” Ann McCarthy.

Photo credit goes to Rex Features photographer, Sara Jaye. Embellishment credit goes to me, because it's my blog and I'll draw on celebrities if I want to.

Photo credit goes to Rex Features photographer, Sara. Embellishment credit goes to me, because it’s my blog and I’ll draw on celebrities if I want to.

On September 9, 2013, the couple officially announced their relationship on the popular daytime program, “The View.” I witnessed them hugging, kissing, and touching (all while seated relatively close to Barbara Walters. For shame.) He also reportedly filled Ms. McCarthy’s dressing room with balloons and flowers, and has been seen on countless other daytime shows discussing his new state of happiness in the land of lust love.


(I will say that I was impressed that Ms. McCarthy included “the Blockheads” in her adoration of Donnie’s butt. However, unless she can provide photographic evidence of herself in braces sporting an original New Kids on the Block t-shirt from 1991, I will continue to call her status as “Blockhead” into question.)

The pair revealed in this interview that they’d started seeing each other seriously “sometime around the fourth of July.” Let the record reflect that that was mere weeks after my own rendezvous with Donnie in Charlotte.

I would like to be clear on two points: 1) I wish nothing but happiness for Mr. Wahlberg and will always have a soft spot for him in my heart. And 2) I have nothing against Ms. McCarthy (with the exception of her misleading anti-vaccination campaign and her crude Candies ad from the 90s). May happiness rain down upon them both.

I am not bitter. In fact, I’m happy for Donnie. I will always love him and support him and scream for him when he takes off his shirt on his hit television drama, Blue Bloods. But hearts have a way of mending themselves, especially when the fun of searching for a new celebrity boyfriend begins. And so now, I’d like to make a formal announcement.

There is new fake love in my life.

Nathan Fillion

Some of you may have wondered what was going on between me and Nathan back when I first started posting about ComicCon (particularly when my countdown featured him in a ‘front and center’ manner.) The truth is, we’d already started communicating through Twitter, and we actually met up at this year’s Nerd HQ. One thing led to another, and well…I was always meant to be with a Captain, really.

And so, in conclusion, I’d like to thank all of you who supported my stalking relationship with Donnie Wahlberg. We will always be close–in fact, I Tweeted him just this morning. But I hope you can all be happy for Nathan and me, as our relatively new pretend relationship grows. You’ll be interested to know that we enjoy cosplaying together. We love Saturday-long Star Trek marathons. And he’s even teaching me a little Chinese. How cool is that?

If this is your first time visiting AbbyGabs in a few days, you’ll notice a brand new design. Thanks to pal and fellow blogger, Carrie Baughcum of Heck Awesome, for her support, inspiration, and creativity throughout this process!

And to those who worry I’ve lost my bonkers because I’m leaving Donnie Wahlberg, here’s a little secret between you and me: I still intend to stalk him on Twitter. Maybe just not as religiously as I’ll be stalking Nathan for awhile, as my heart heals.

The Infertility List Blog

Let’s set the record straight. I’m not a psychologist with years worth of research in my portfolio. I’m not a doctor who knows big words about specific sections of the brain and the hormones that they squirt into the body. I’m not a fertility specialist who can explain to you the complexities of coping with the emotional baggage that comes with having broken lady parts.

But I am an infertile woman living in the 21st century. And I’m also a blogger. So that gives me all the necessary tools to present you with a list of 10 things everyone (especially my friends and family) should know about infertility.

10 Things This Infertile Wants You (The Fertile Ones) To Know

1. Birth announcements don’t come in bouts of 3.
Nay. In fact, they come in groups of a hundred. Sometimes more. In fact, in less than a 2 week time span, practically everyone I knew–from best friends, to that child actor from the 80s, to the kid I used to babysit in the 8th grade–announced that they were expecting. Even the Prince of Friggin’ England was all like, “Heeey yoooou guuuuys….I’m gonna be a baby daddy!”

one

You should be forewarned that when this happens you will find me in holey pajama pants, lying on my bathroom floor, sobbing into the bathmat. Don’t worry–I’ll find my happy for you eventually. It’s just going to take some time to pick up the shrapnel from the baby bomb that just hit my house. (It’s not as cute as it sounds.)

2. Let’s just put it out there–Friends with Kids, We Are Jealous Of You.
It’s nothing personal. But when we come to your house to visit and accidentally step on a Lego, we’re jealous. When we meet you for dinner and you’re a few minutes late because you had a diaper blowout, we’re jealous. When we call you up and can’t really hear what you’re saying over the sound of baby giggles in the background, we’re jealous. When you post a picture of your darling child in over-sized sunglasses and a beer box on his head, we’re jealous. It doesn’t mean we love you or your pint-size mini me any less. It just means that we see what awesomeness you have in your life, and we want it for us, too.

3. We really don’t need to hear about the conventional methods anymore.
I know you mean well when you gently remind us that the best way to get pregnant is to stop thinking about it/take your temperature/get drunk/elevate your hips after sex. Believe me–I’m more flexible than I look.

See?

contortionist

The problem with us is mechanical, not creativity. (wink wink) So there’s really no need to reenact the Kama Sutra to show me just how you got knocked up. (Although, if you really want to, go ahead. Just be forewarned that I will take pictures. I’m always looking for good blog fodder.)

In this same vein, please don’t make weird suggestions about other, less traditional ways to procreate. I want to have Brian’s baby. Not his brother’s, not his uncle’s, and not his third-cousin-twice-removed’s. Sorry. That’s just weird and creepy.

4. At some point in our relationship, I will cry.
I’m a big ol’ fat cry baby about most things, anyway. But this particular thing? I have no control over my emotions. The truth is–I’m grieving. That’s really what infertility is–grieving the life of the child you always imagined but will never have. It sucks. It’s really hard. And I cope by crying.

A lot.

So inevitably, we will be cheerfully chatting about that catty thing someone said at the party, and something will trigger that “OMG I DON’T HAVE OFFSPRING” button in my brain, and I’ll be sobbing all over you before you can grab the stray tissue at the bottom of your purse. I apologize in advance.

5. I use humor as a defense mechanism.
If this blog isn’t proof of that, then let me explain.

Your adorable toddler will run up to me and give me a big kiss. I will make an inappropriate joke about my ovary exploding. Everyone will laugh.

You’ll ask me if I’m available to take photographs at your child’s birthday party. I’ll laugh too loudly and make a joke about always being free since I don’t have a child of my own to throw parties for. No one will laugh.

I’ll be writing a semi-serious blog post about the trauma of infertility, and I’ll throw up a stupid picture of myself Photoshopped to look like a clown.

Clown

With me now?

6. Please don’t say, “You should adopt!”
You’re totally right. A family IS about love, not blood. There ARE lots of kids in the world who need loving homes. We totally agree with you. That doesn’t mean we’re ready, yet. It also probably means we’ve still haven’t worked up the courage to rob a bank, yet. Cuz that’s shit’s expensive, yo.

7. We totally still want to be friends with you, even though you are fertile.
It’s ok. We don’t begrudge you your fully functional baby-making parts. Mostly. So don’t worry that bringing your kids over is an inconvenience. Don’t stop inviting us to birthday parties and baby showers (although sometimes I might not come.) Don’t apologize when your kid squeals loudly or chases my cat or accidentally scribbles on my kitchen table. We love you, and your screaming toddler. I’ve even been known to miss a football game or two just to hang out with you guys. Now THAT’S love.

8. Sometimes, we need to hang out with our “non-kid” friends, though.
It has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with our desire to drink copious amounts of alcohol, talk about grown-up type things, and say curse words often and loudly.

margarita ole
*Drool.*

I know you can carry on conversations about stuff other than your kids. (There’s a reason we’re friends. You are a super-cool cat with tons of interesting things to talk about. Am I right??) I also know that you want that giant margarita right there just as much as I do. But I also know it’s harder for you to leave the kids out of conversation, because they are your life, as they should be. No guilt trips here, lady.

It’s just this: sometimes it’s easier for us to be around people who don’t have that problem, and who aren’t so hyper-aware that something they say about their child could potentially send me into the ugly cry. It lets me get my drink on with the knowledge that I can be a happy drunk instead of the weird drunk who’s walking around the party blurting out random child-rearing facts that I probably shouldn’t know.

9. Imma spoil yo’ babies.
When they fall down at my house, I’m going to kiss their boo boo and give them a cookie. When it’s their birthday, I’m going to video myself singing to them and email it to you. When I come over to visit, don’t be surprised if I come bearing little gifts of my adoration for your progeny.

There are two parts to this: 1) I do it because I love your kid. He/She is adorable, and I just want to squish them regularly. Kudos, Mom and Dad, ya did good. And 2) I do it because it helps me fill a void. I don’t have my own child to sing to or bake for, so I’m gonna do it for your child.

Don’t worry, they’ll pay you back by pitching a fit at bedtime because they just want to go to Auntie Abby’s house and play.

cooler than you

You’re welcome.

10. We will be fine.
I know you’re concerned, especially because I’ve been in a constant state of funk since we got the official word in June that we won’t be able to join you in the land of Parenthood. (At least not without a crap load of cheddar and a miracle to rival the parting of the Red Sea.) If I’m honest with you, and with myself, I don’t know how long this part of the process takes. We’re sad, and we will probably always be sad. But even though I don’t have working ovaries, and even though Brian doesn’t have the Michael Phelps of sperm, we still have each other. And that, friends, is the really great news.

*It took me a really long time to publish this blog. Do you have any idea how hard it is to make something like infertility even remotely funny?? It’s really, really hard. So don’t feel like you need to send me an email or comment apologizing if you think you’ve possibly done or said one of the things above. Because you probably have. Because everyone has. And it’s totally OK. The important thing is that I know that you care. There’s not really anything anyone can say to make it better, but knowing I have friends in my corner who are cheering for me and who only want me to be happy makes bearing this cross a little easier. I love you–each and every one. And I love your stinkin’ babies, too.

Subconscious Awesomeness

I’m about to tell you two totally unrelated stories. You’ll probably be confused, but if you just stick with me to the end, it’ll all be worth it. I promise.

Story 1: Years ago, Jenna (college roommate, BFF, and most wonderful person, ever) taught me how to crochet. We would sit in her room, reruns of “Angel” playing in the background, and she would patiently explain the mechanics of single-stitch crochet.

The first thing I ever made, under her watchful eye, was a long, thin scarf that mimicked the colors of the Caribbean. And guess who still has said scarf?

scarf

It rarely gets cold enough for me to wear winter gear around here, but when it dips into the 40s, I always scramble to find my Jenna Scarf so I can don it before it’s seventy-five degrees again. And while I never mastered anything more difficult in the crochet world than plain ol’ single stitch, I still use that skill to this day. I’ve made countless afghans and scarves for friends and family over the years, and I can still hear Jenna’s voice in my ear, guiding me and my hook along.

Story 2: A few years ago, Brian’s Aunt Tina (fellow Broadway fan, Whovian, and all around coolest chick on the planet) came to visit, and she was wearing the loveliest pair of earrings I’d ever seen. I made that very comment to her, and she promptly removed them from her ears and handed them to me. I was speechless. They are still, to this day, my favorite pair of earrings. Pink, sparkly, dichroic glass–they make me happy every time I slide them into my ears.

scarf 2

Brian and I were moving some furniture around in the bedroom about a month ago, and I clumsily knocked over my earring tree. As I carefully placed each pair back where they belonged, I realized with dismay that one of my pink Tina Earrings was missing.

I. Was. Devastated.

We searched the entirety of the bedroom, crawling around on our hands and knees, shining the flashlight into all the dark corners, and after a couple of hours, finally gave up. Still, every day I would peek behind the bookcase, or run my toes under the dresser, hoping beyond hope that I would find my lost earring.

Here’s where it all comes together. Last night, I had a vivid dream that I was searching for something–I don’t remember what, only that there was a sense of urgency involved. It was cold, and I wore my Jenna scarf tucked snugly around my neck. And in the dream, I opened a drawer to find a tarnished gold jewelry box. When I opened it, there were my Tina Earrings. I picked them up, put them on, and continued the search for the now-forgotten holy grail.

This morning, as I was getting dressed for work, I noticed that my Jenna Scarf had fallen from her hanger and was laying in a pool on my closet floor. Unwilling to leave it to yarn-gnawing cats, I picked it up. As I examined it for chewed edges or loose knots, I noticed a glimmer of something sparkly peeking out from the fringe. There, just as in the dream, was my missing earring.

I stood there holding it for a moment, memories of the dream flooding back to me. Then I whooped with excitement and dashed to the living room to tell Brian all about it. He looked at me with wide eyes and said, “Wow. You’re psychic.”

fortuneteller

I hope so. The outfits are bitchin’.

Introducing: AbbyGabs Apparel!

Originally, I only went to Zazzle to make t-shirts for Brian and I wear to ComicCon.  I swear.

(Pause momentarily so you can call me a Nerd.)

I had mentioned a few months ago that I was *thinking* about adding an AbbyGabs shop to my blog, for those few of you (Hi Mom!) who had expressed interest.

It all started with a Munchkin tee. And then the designs just kept on coming. So what I’m getting at is this: Guess who now has a full-blown Zazzle shop?

(All signs point to the nerd behind the keyboard.)

Some of the products come from illustrated posts I’ve done here on AbbyGabs. Others are just items in support of the blog. And they’re ALL customizable. Don’t love the t-shirt I originally used for a specific design? No sweat. Zazzle allows you to change it up to fit your tastes.

Just in case you’re curious, here are a few of my favorite items available for purchase as of right now:

For A Good Time Sticker

For A Good Time Sticker

Coffee Now! Mug

Coffee Now! Mug

Munchkin Lady Shirt

Munchkin Lady Shirt

Portable Super Hero Shirt

Portable Super Hero Shirt

Squee!!! Now I have to refrain from buying ALL THE THINGS!

(Full disclosure: I already purchased the Munchkin Lady tee, and will be wearing it to the Con next weekend!!)

And in case you’re dying to purchase one of the many awesome items in my shop, but you manage to lose this post, you can find a tab at the top of my blog to take you direction to AbbyGabs Apparel!

new screen shot

So if I come up with an illustration, phrase, or idea that you’d like to see on an item in the shop, let me know!! There’s an easy-to-fill-out form in the AbbyGabs Apparel tab above. I’m happy to make a specific custom product, just for you!

Happy Shopping!

Our ComicCon Schedule

One week from today, Brian and I will be boarding a plane to head to San Diego, and Nerdvana Bliss.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE!

As the Con approaches, more and more information is being released about events hosted throughout the weekend. We’ve got TONS of them flagged–things we might be interested in, things we’d definitely be interested in, things that we can do if one of those super-interesting things fills up before we can find a seat.

But there are four all-important events that we are the MOST excited about. And I’m here today to share those with you.

Blog 1

That’s right. Nerds don’t play, homie. Brian will get to partake of not one, but TWO Transformers panels, back to back, on the very first day of the Con. (I’ll be there, too, but more to watch Brian’s excitement than anything else.) I haven’t the foggiest idea what a toy company could possibly talk about for 2 whole hours, but I guess at ComicCon, anything is possible. Fortunately, there isn’t anything else pressing for a few hours after these panels, which is a great thing. I’ll need the time to figure out how to scrape my overly excited husband off of the ceiling.

Blog 2

OH-SO-MUCH Joss Whedon! Finally, after years of worshiping this creative genius from afar, we get to sit through not one, but TWO panels hosted by our very favorite writer/director/producer EVER. One of the panels will be focused solely on his upcoming television series, S.H.I.E.L.D. The other will be just Joss, in all his wonderfulness, talking about all the things we love from the Whedonverse: Buffy, Angel, Firefly, Dr. Horrible’s Sing Along Blog, The Avengers, and much, much, MUCH more. It all goes down on Friday, people. Prepare yourselves for the SQUEEE heard around the world.

Blog 3

Holy crapballs, y’all. I don’t even know what to do with myself. I cried when they finally announced it. A one-hour-long celebration of Doctor Who, featuring Steven Moffat, Jenna Coleman, AND MATT SMITH. Since he has announced that he’s leaving the show, I feel so totally blessed to be able to be at this year’s ComicCon with him, since it will be his last as the Doctor. I will cry, I will shout love phrases at him, and I will wear a bowtie. For those who aren’t Whovians, I can’t explain it to you. But to those who are—Matt Smith is MY Doctor. And I love him so. *sob*

These three major events will be stuffed between panels like “Geeks Getting Published” and “Showtime’s Dexter” and “Stan Lee’s World of Heroes.” We’ll be learning all about the new Assassin’s Creed game, meeting the creator of the Buffy comics, and stalking stars like Nathan Fillion and Chris Hemsworth. And when it all comes to an end on Sunday evening, we will be finishing off the Con with a bang. Because the very last thing we will be attending is a:

blog 4

I have no words. All I can do is start practicing now.

Is it ComicCon yet?