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Showing posts from 2010

Merry birthday.

So, it's Christmas morning. It's also my 31st birthday. There is still snow on the ground outside. Himself is at his mother's house (where I was meant to join him yesterday, and was thwarted by a stonking cold/flu) and Sister 3 is asleep upstairs. I woke up at 7:30 this morning, came downstairs intending to curl up on the sofa with festive telly and a coffee. Instead, I took out the trash, loaded the dishwasher, mopped the floor, spoke to Sister 2 (who apparently never sleeps) on the phone for a bit, and am now finally ensconced on said sofa with the aforementioned coffee and festive telly (Muppet's Christmas Carol, doesn't get any better than that). I'm still sick, but all told, it's not too shabby a way to spend Christmas. When 3 wakes up, we plan to make sausage balls (which will necessitate the Great Sausage Massacre of 2010) and open our presents to each other. We're going to cook a ham for later, most likely accompanied by mashed potatoes a

Familial festivities.

So, Himself managed to snag two tickets for us to see Tim Minchin on Tuesday night. These tickets came about because he has to deal with the frustrations of mobile phone contract management at work, so O2 chucked him a couple of freebies along with a few free drinks in the O2 Lounge. Luckily for me, companies don't tend to give out single freebies, so I got to tag along. I love Tim Minchin. His combination of raucous piano playing mixed with ascerbic wit and the occasional politically themed rant is right up my street. I chuckle at "Rock and Roll Nerd" and downright hee haw at "Inflatable You". What I didn't expect was "White Wine in the Sun". It's still written in that witty style he's become so known for, but there's such a poignant turn about halfway through the song that it had me in tears. It's about how much he loves Christmas, and although he hates the commercialism of it all, he looks forward to seeing his family. It

Thankful feelings.

As it's Thanksgiving, I feel that I should make the traditional list of the things in my life for which I'm most grateful... 1. I have a great life, and that's down entirely to Himself. I didn't make the right choices when I was younger, treated school as a joke, bounced from job to job for years, thought "savings" was a nonsense word... you get my gist. Himself did it all the right way, put himself through university and started saving to emigrate to Australia, wisely chose to reallocate that fund to buy Yours Truly a seriously nice engagement ring (yes, yes, Himself, I can see you rolling your eyes from here, and please return your left eyebrow to its resting position!), got a great job, kept saving, went freelance, kept saving, and now we have a beautiful house in which to throw parties and have houseguests. *grin* He's smart, funny, dependable, and let's face it gals, he's pretty hot. So, I'm thankful for Himself. 2. I finally have a

Stupid hormones.

I wrote this on Friday, and for honesty's sake (and because I actually find it pretty funny, especially because the EXACT same thing happened to mi madre in the same circumstances) I'm posting it now. "I'm sitting in my soon-to-be sewing room in a plaid shirt and jeans, tools spread around me, in tears. I miss my Granddaddy. He should be here, helping me put this desk together. He should have been here to help us pick the neighbourhood in which to settle, and to call when the offer was accepted on the one house that most mirrors the one he built my grandmother and that I grew up in. I'm sad, and I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for moving away and missing the last four years of his life. I'm angry that my situation in the UK kept me from seeing him when he decided to stop taking the pills that were keeping him alive, and I'm angry that the same situation kept me from being at his funeral. I'm sad that he died before he could walk me down th

House of Gabs, Mach II.

Mr. and Mrs. Gabs have relocated to Uxbridge! That's right, boys and girls, we've acquired a real home. Not a rented room, not even a rented several rooms. We now own a terraced house with three bedrooms! I say three bedrooms... the smallest of the three has been immediately allocated to yours truly and my burgeoning supply of fabrics and craft materials. Finally, "gabymade" will have a permanent base from which to lovingly fashion pretties for sale on Etsy. Believe you me, you'll hear about it when we go live. So, the house. Not even half a mile from the station, the walk from the city centre takes you past a ridiculously beautiful medieval church and down a charmingly reallocated parade of shops (think white plaster with black wood frames, which can be fairly amusing when it's a sex shop currently in residence) and through a park, complete with its own river and aquatic avians. The local swan mafia makes rather a lot of noise making sure everyone know

Updates all around.

It's been a while. Many things have happened in the House of Gabs. Sit back, relax, prepare to be inundated with information. I studied for (briefly), took (quickly), and passed (thankfully) my driving theory test. Himself got better scores, but he actually read the book. I prefer the iPhone method of study, i.e. download the practise test app and take it thirty or forty times, then hold my breath and hope real hard. Meh, it worked. Himself and I are off to Tejas on Friday. I haven't been home since Easter, and this will be the first time I've been in town for the Texas State Fair in seven years. Fried beer, here I come. We've taken the moglets down to Himself's sister in Colchester, where I'm sure they're living in the lap of luxury as her fiancee is the Essex equivalent of Dr. Doolittle. Soft touch doesn't quite cover it, I'm betting they come home even fatter than they are now. Last time they stayed there, they climbed the wallpaper to o

Transport-mageddon.

So, London Underground are striking. This, of course, means that all of London has ground to a halt. They're running VERY limited services on a few chosen lines, and the rest of us have to resort to using (as the BFG puts it) the Big Red Things. This means that instead of my usual comfortable, airy half hour of a commute, it took me a sweaty, cramped hour and ten minutes. People have opted to stay home from work. They're using sick/holiday allotment so they don't have to face a tube-less London. Business are working at half capacity. The striking union members are set up with their flags outside padlocked stations, sitting comfortably in camp chairs with cigarettes and cups of tea. Outside my office window traffic winds past at a snail's pace, blaring horns venting the drivers' collective frustration. What fascinates me is the general attitude of my fellow commuters. Some of them are bravely fighting on, calmly taking setbacks and delays on the chin with apl

Back to the real world.

It's been a hectic few weeks in the Gabs household. We had the Texan Infestation (just kidding, One and Four) for a week, and four days later was our third wedding anniversary. The sisterly visit was lovely. I so rarely get to fly home, twice a year if I'm lucky, it was great to have family over here. We did all the touristy stuff, the bus tour, caught a show, bought Build-a-Bear in Hamleys, ate fish and chips (with which Four became promptly and overwhelmingly obsessed)... a good time was had by all. We did, however, shop rather more than I'm accustomed to, and I had never before spent three consecutive hours in Primark in my life... *lol* To be fair, dressing Four is like having a real life Barbie to play with, so that aspect of it was fun. She was a good sport, tried on everything One and I forced upon her (including some fairly ridiculous jeans at Desigual) and let me take pictures throughout. Pictures... I think I took a thousand. I doubt that's much of an o

Familial frivolity.

Our little house of two (and two mogs) has grown exponentially for the week. Two of my sisters (numbers one and four) are here for a visit. One has been here many times as she used to work as a flight attendant, Four is new to Blighty. We've done all the usual touristy bits, rather a lot of shopping, taken a fairly ridiculous amount of pictures... all in all, it's been good. I've had the week off work, which feels more than a little strange. The Friday before the fam arrived was completely manic, racing around trying desperately to get everything sorted out for my time off as well as dealing with the process of becoming a permanent employee saw yours truly a little overwhelmed. It's also a real shame that the timing of the sisterly visit coincides with the last week of work for one of our team members, a truly lovely guy who's leaving for greener pastures, so we're all going to his leaving do tonight. Tomorrow, we will rent a car and head for Stonehenge as

Manx Adventure, second chapter.

Yeah, that internet connection at the hotel... pants doesn't quite cover it. So, I shall commence with the second installment of the Isle of Man pics now that I'm back on the mainland. Saturday morning dawned clearer than Friday had been, so after breakfast (at which, yes, I did eat too much and then wanted to go back to bed) Himself and I headed out for a wander in the opposite direction to where we'd gone Friday night. Turns out it was a great decision, as you'll see from the pics. We went all the way up the cliffs, and the views were spectacular. We headed back to the hotel around eleven to start getting ready for the main event, namely the entire reason we were on the Isle in the first place, Jimbo and Lisa's wedding. Showers all around, then Himself settled in to watch some tv while I began the in depth renovations on my face. That's right, folks, I wore makeup. Don't get used to it. The coach came to take us to the wedding, which turned out to be in th

Gabs and the Manx Adventure.

So, Saturday sees Gabs and Co. on the Isle of Man. One of Himself's university mates is getting married tomorrow, and as the majority of the family belonging to the bride-to-be resides on the Isle, here we be. It's beautiful here. The local colour asserted itself immediately in the form of our cab driver from the airport to the hotel. She gave us a little mini-tour/history of the island during the drive. We drove over a bridge charmingly storied to house fairies, who traditionally are meant to be acknowledged when you cross the bridge or the fairies will give bad luck instead of good. There's a tree to one side of the bridge where children write letters to the fairies in exchange for wishes. We got to the hotel, checked in, and headed out for a wander. It's grey and a bit rainy, but I still managed to get some fairly good photos. Let's take a magical mystery tour through Douglas, shall we? And last but not least... Yes. Even off the coast of England on an is

Excuse-less.

I've decided it's silly to keep apologising for missing my FFF posts. My life has changed drastically since the creation of this blog. When I started, I was unhappy on every level. I hated my job, I was depressed and unhappy in myself and in my home life, life sucked. *grin* Self pitying, thy name was Gabs. Now, I like where I am. My job keeps me busy and I'm appreciated in it, I'm going swimming every day and feel better physically, and I've learned to appreciate the small things. I smile more, I laugh more, I am contented. If (God forbid) I regress into unhappiness, I will restart my FFF. When I began them, I needed a physical reminder that there were happy things around me. Now, not so much. And that's enough about that. I will put up a proper post, I've taken some amusing pictures this week that I want to put out there but I don't want to give away what they feature until you can see them with your own EDBDIs. (Granddaddy joke, you'll ha

All up in my nose.

I love wasabi peas. I thought I'd take this time to wax lyrical about my love for said spicy dried legumes. Well, my love for all wasabi-coated snacks. And sushi is basically just a vehicle for the lovely green stuff. And you don't have enough mixed with the soy sauce unless the heat goes right up your nose. That's perhaps enough about wasabi. This has been a pretty busy week so far. (I'm probably a little too puerile for 30 years old, because when I typed "far" just then, I accidentally added a "t" at the end and had a good giggle before I corrected my spelling.) I'm still nesting at Heathrow Express, and if you know me at all, you know that nesting in a new office means cleaning out every cupboard and drawer in the building. The post room is almost done, and I've got my eye set on the cupboard next to the front door now. I've changed storage around, I've trashed and archived an inordinate amount of currently unnecessary pape

Himself-less.

(No, it's not one of my cats, but it's too perfect for this post to pass up.) This weekend, I will admit, was marvellous. On Saturday, I didn't wake up until past ten o'clock in the morning. I was brought coffee and peanut butter toast in bed. I lazed with a book, I faffed with the moggies, I luxuriated in the lack of activity. If you'll recall, Himself was leaving that day for his "not a stag do" do. I left the house around half noon, before he had to leave, and headed for central London. I went to the wholesale jewellery shop and bought more headbands for my Etsy offerings, I window shopped to my heart's content, and I spent an inordinate amount of time (and a fair amount of money) in the haberdashery department at John Lewis. Throughout all of this was the gratifying knowledge that it didn't matter how long I dallied (or dillied, for that matter) because there was no bored man in attendance. I went home via the shops and picked up dinner fo

Fabulous Friday Frivolity.

Okay, one and all, sit back and relax for this week's installment of FFF. My five happy things for the week are as follows: 1. I have a logo! My graphic design mate has finished the gabymade avatar, and the shop will be up and running in short order. Everyone, meet Olive. She's cute, she's kitsch, she's versatile yet simple. In short, she's perfect. I can't wait to get her properly installed on Etsy. Now all I have to do is sort a banner and we're off! 2. I took a page out of Silly Sock's diary and bought... wait for it... a ukelele! It's tiny and yellow and I fully intend to master it and carry it around with me for impromptu sing-alongs. I should start number three, that's how momentous the next piece of news is, but as it's related I'll allow them to share a spot... it came with a harmonica. *grin* Great for tuning the uke, even better for impersonating Blues Traveler or pretending I'm four again and running around the h

What's green, white, and wobbly all over?

That's right, folks, that was me at the weekend. Although, I'm wobbly all over all the time, so maybe I should have left that part out as it doesn't pertain specifically to the weekend... nah, I'll leave it in, it rings true. I know I missed my FFF on Friday. Please accept my humble apologies, and the forthcoming explanation. Not excuse, mind you. Explanation. Okay, excuse. I'm sick. Properly sick. I came home from work on Friday coughing my head off (although not literally, it's fairly firmly attached), and attributed it to having been on my hands and knees with the hoover in the post room. Woke up Saturday morning realising that the potent post room dust/toner combo was just a coincidence, and that I was actually sick. This meant I had to cancel going round a workmate's house to teach her sixteen year old daughter how to use her new sewing machine, which I was REALLY looking forward to, and had the extra added bonus of letting her down to make me fe

Nightmares and piratical goodies.

I know, weird one, but that's what kind of a week it's been. The family arrived as previously discussed, and as Himself and I get up pretty early to leave for work, we gave them our bedroom and slept in the living room floor on the air mattress. I say slept... Himself didn't, really. I swear, that man's the gender-challenged reincarnation of the Princess plagued by the infamous legume. He said it was too "lumpy", and attempted to sleep on the couch last night. I know from personal experience that our battered (slightly moggie-shredded) sofa is highly uncomfortable, so he didn't fare too well in his endeavour. I find the air mattress fairly comfortable, myself. Of course, there's the slight issue with my subconscious. I have (as previously discussed) an extremely active nocturnal mind, and apparently the change in sleeping arrangements triggered some strangeness. The first night on the air mattress, I dreamed I was playing a piano (an upright, in

Minutia and mountains of sewing.

If you can't tell what I did with my weekend, check the title. A girlfriend at work had a seriously dwindling wardrobe due to slight rips and tears in the majority of her clothes, so I forcibly wrested them from her (slightly embarrassed) grasp and merrily carted them home to stitch them to health. This meant that I had the impetus to delve into my own mountain of damaged clothing (easily three times as much as what she'd sent home with me) and also meant I had no excuse but to hem the previously discussed curtains. I also... wait for it... got out the ironing board. That's right, folks, those curtains needed pressing before they could go back up (I am my grandmother's granddaughter, after all) and then I had no reason not to continue on pressing everything I'd not hung up in the wardrobe due to the fact it needed ironing. Much productivity was witnessed... well, in me, anyway. Himself spent the time lounging on the sofa watching the World Cup. I watched too, m

Fabulous Friday Frivolity.

And here we are at another FFF post. This week, I am actually going to stick to my own rules and do it proper-like. Here we go. 1. I had a very (very) satisfying shopping spree on asos.com this week. I know, completely irresponsible and frivolous (and female), but if it means I get wooden shoes I just don't care. *grin* That's right, friends, I am now the proud owner of the first pair of clogs I've owned since I was a teenager. They are clompishness at its best, and I love them. 2. I've got family coming to stay! I haven't seen my (ridiculously removed to the -nth degree) cousin in I honestly couldn't say how long. She and her husband took a trip to Africa and then are meandering back to the States via a slightly circuitous route through England, hence will be staying in the Gabs house for two nights starting Monday. I like having family around, even of the wildly removed variety, and it doesn't happen often. So, yay! 3. I've been swimming e

Tummy bugs and clean carpets.

I was the lucky recipient of the 24 hour stomach bug floating around Himself's offices on Saturday. Woke up fine, accepted delivery of the carpet cleaning machine I'd arranged earlier in the week, started the living room while Himself struggled bravely on through his own dose of sickishness, and (thankfully) only started feeling really ill once I'd finished. That said, I was only really feeling the effects for about six hours. Six of the longest hours of my life. *lol* I took a (very) long bath, then once things calmed down I ate a (very) little dinner and slept for a (very) long time. By Sunday, I was close to right as rain. Plus, I got to wake up to a clean smelling living room, and the carpets feel seriously lovely on bare feet now. The cats? Not pleased. Not pleased at all. They spent rather a lot of time cowering in the bedroom with Himself while I sweated and swore over the machine in the living room, and have since insisted upon spending inordinate amounts o

That's how we roll.

So, I missed Friday's FFF. I'll apologise, but let me explain. Friday was the office move I've been planning since I started at Heathrow Express six weeks ago. It wasn't packing up the office and moving to another building, it was simply (you'd think, anyway) moving a few people to different desks within the existing floor plan. It was arranged that way because it meant we didn't have to pay the movers to completely reconfigure the desks, and it achieved the result the Commercial Director (my boss) wanted with the least amount of kerfuffle. Or so you'd think. Now, to me, a desk is a desk. The people I'm near might not be my best friends in the world, but I have a job to do and I physically am capable of performing it from wherever I'm plunked down. Apparently I'm alone in this capability. I held a meeting in my second week on the job to give the people involved a chance to choose where they wanted to be within the limits set by my boss, and

Frumpy McFrumperson.

Today, I look hot. I say this because yesterday, I was frumpalicious. I mean, like Tweedledee in a dress, but without the stupid hat. Not attractive. I've always thought I was born in the wrong era. Since my youth, I've been compared (unfavourably) to the long, lithe, tanned limbs of the girls in the magazines. I've never been thin, I've always been "healthy". Unless I was "just plain fat" which is what I'm hefting around now. *lol* Since Rubenesque isn't the done thing, and since the one thing the doctor keeps harping at me over is that excess baggage aggravates hypermobility, I'm taking the bull by the horns and *gasp* starting an exercise regime. A couple of workmates and I are going to join the little gym around the corner from our office, and I'm going to start swimming on a regular basis. No impact, full body, cardio and all... I'm already tired just thinking about it. *lol* That said, I've already taken steps

Aural bliss.

Now stop that, I know where your mind went. I refer, of course, to the most harmonious of undertakings, the Hard Rock Calling concert on Sunday. Elvis Costello, Crowded House, Crosby, Stills and Nash, and the ever marvellous Paul McCartney. Hot, sunny weather; Hyde Park crammed full of aged hippies; Elvis Costello sweating his head off in a purple velvet suit; Crosby, Stills and Nash covering the Stones' "Ruby Tuesday"; Paul McCartney covering "Tequila"... These were but a few of my most excellent experiences on Sunday. I've never been to a concert alone. The cinema, yes. To dinner, yes. To a concert? Nope. It was a truly eye opening experience. I haven't done very much completely alone in the last few years. Being married means you have a built-in companion for everything, and it doesn't even occur to me to book something for one person. This was no exception to that, actually, it was more a strange array of incidents that saw me traipsing

Fabulous Friday Frivolity.

And it's that time again! My five happy things for the week are as follows: 1. Seems like a silly thing to get so happy over, but it turns out there's a tiny little postage stamp of a garden at our office building. Surrounded by fairly well established hydrangeas, it boasts a garden bench and a picnic table. The grass is dotted with tiny daisies, and it gets a good amount of sun in the afternoons. It has become THE place to be at lunchtime, gets us outside and away from computers, and it makes such a difference to the rest of the day. A haven at Heathrow Express, if you will. 2. I've been dying to get a massage for ages now, it's been months since the last, and in general discussion early in the week a girl in the office mentioned that there was a spa behind our building, so we wandered over to check it out. Turns out that it's not only a (very) well appointed little spa, it's a bite-sized gym as well. It's got a Fastlane pool, the sort that's v
Saturday saw Gabs and Co. en route to Chelmsford for the second chapter in the Great House Hunt. We had four to view which Himself had arranged with various estate agents in and around the area. The first house was beautiful, the garden was amazing, it was in our price range and very close to the station. The catch, you ask? A distinct lack of storage space, I reply. Where would my shoes live??? We moved on to the next. It was a milk carton. Square, white, oddly arranged inside (a window in the front coat closet?) and smelled of rental property. Someone else's food, you know what I mean. On to the next. The third was quite large, three bedrooms of which one would more than suffice for my in-house craftiness, utility room, garage, huge garden, in pretty decent decorative nick. Very nice kitchen, and the stove would be left for us. Right in our price range, and Himself reckons we might even be able to talk them down by £5k or so. Very promising, on to the next. The fourth house was

Existential tenets, or some such rubbish.

I know this should be my FFF post for the week. I'm breaking with tradition just this once. Don't get me wrong, there have been happy things this week. One of the girls in our department had her leaving do on Tuesday night, and a convivial time was had by all. Things at work are falling into place, the cats have been silly, I've talked to family, etc. I just have something I want to say, and I want to say it badly enough to let it take the place of my five happy things. I've had my iPod on shuffle at work for the last week, and it's funny how certain songs create a mental atmosphere. Calm, sad, joyous, angry, introspective, it's all there in that tiny black box. Ingrid Michaelson is a personal favourite, and in particular, the song entitled "Highway". For lack of a better way of expressing it, for me that song creates a mood of "enjoy it now, because things change". I know once we die, we don't have regrets, but let me indulge myse