11 December 2009

7 Quick Takes Friday (Vol. 8)


In my last post, I completely forgot to include the one gift that inspired the entire post to begin with - a customized calendar from shutterfly.com. Or a photo book is a good idea too. Again, they're not paying me to advertise for them (oh what a world that would be), but I made calendars for both my parents, and I was so impressed with it, I just had to share. I know it's not exactly a brand new idea, but it's such a perfect gifts for your mom, grandparents, and even that sad, sad father of yours whose genetic link to you you begrudgingly accept. Whatever. I put mine together on a Sunday night, placed the order, and received it that Wednesday. Now THAT is some good service. You can see the calendar I made by clicking the picture below:

(Oh, and I took most of those pictures of me myself. Thank you very much social awkwardness that prevents me from having friends to help me out tripod.)


You know how they have disinfectant wipes at grocery stores to wipe your cart down with before you - gasp! - touch it with your sparkly-clean, defenseless bare hands? Well, I think they're dumb. Even today as I walked into the store, I passed a woman giving her cart a ferocious scrub down, and I don't know what stirred this particular urge within me, but I so badly wanted to walk up to the cart next to her, make a big show of spitting on both my hands, and then caress that cart handle with my slimy palms like I was a gymnast preparing my uneven bars. I didn't actually do it, because 1) I'm all talk and 2) the last place I EVER want to get kicked out of is the holy grocery store, but come on now. A few germs never hurt anyone. Well, okay, swine flu, bird flu, the Obama Hopenchange virus, blah blah blah. Whatever. I'm just saying that you should WANT to get swine flu right now. It's currently in its least-dangerous form, and one day when it mutates to a totally 100% fatal virus (as all viruses do in epidemic movies, and they wouldn't say it if it wasn't true. I also live in fear for the day the core of the earth stops spinning), your body will have become immune to it thanks to fighting off the less-deadly strain. Or, at least, I think that's what happens. I dunno, I could be making it all up. Never that great at the sciences, me. I better figure it out soon though, because I make a habit of licking door handles based on that very theory.


I just found out that there is such a word as "nattily." That's right, my name has it's own homophone, and apparently the definition of nattily is "neatly or trimly smart in dress or appearance; spruce." I gotta say, I am severely disappointed that it's taken me twenty-three years to discover this. I feel like I've been cheated out of a lot of opportunities to somehow smoothly use the words 'nattily' and 'Natalie' back to back like that (which isn't cheesy at all shut up), while being neatly or trimly smart in dress or appearance. Spruce, even. And I'm even more upset over the fact that I'm currently not very "nattily," else I'd take a picture and post it just to go along with this topic. In fact, this picture is a good representation of my current appearance, just without all the blood.

(Well, maybe some blood. I have a knack for acquiring paper cuts. Got two just today.)

Ahaha, I love that picture, lack of nattilyishness notwithstanding.


For anyone who's not seen it yet, I've posted pictures from Belmont in my West Coast trip report here. I posted it over a week ago, but once again, I am struggling for 7 things. If it's any consolation, you'll get to see me in a bathing suit. On the other hand, you'll get to see me in a bathing suit.



Here's a youtube video some of you have already seen too, but oh well, here it is again. My cousin and I babysat her nieces one night a while back and got them to make up an 80s workout video. It's probably only funny to us, but it's at least worth it to watch the last 45 seconds where I make some weird pig noise after being unable to control my laughter any longer. And then the last 20 seconds is where the video shines, but I won't spoil it for you except to say that that's also me hyperventilating in the background and my cousin shouting like a, um, I don't know what. A monkey? A toucan? A pre-pubescent cow? I really have no idea. But that's Abby for you.


For my 20th birthday, my mom bought me a car (which was nice since she sold my first car while I was away at college and didn't tell me (granted she had bought me that one too, but STILL. It's the PRINCIPLE of the thing))(and just so I don't sound like a spoiled brat, I DO make payments on it. So it wasn't 100% GIFT, okay?)(Good Lord, I hope you like parentheses)(I do). My family did the whole surprise thing, where the car was hidden in my aunt's garage, complete a big red bow on top (that is not my car) like they show in commercials. Well, kinda. They actually took my uncle's SUV to the dealership to pick the bow up because they didn't think they'd be able to fit it in a tiny car. But apparently - and, really, who would see this coming? - car dealerships don't have a whole room filled with 8-feet wide bows free for the giving, because, well, they don't carry 8-feet wide bows. They carry 1-foot wide bows. Ones that people return once they're done with them judging by the slightly-used look of it. So my family had this big SUV to pick up a bow the size of a soccer ball and it became this very funny story because of irony and story-of-our-lives and no-really-that-whole-SUV-just-for-that-tiny-little-bow-ha-ha-ha.

And I tell you all that to tell you this: every time a commercial comes on that shows someone surprising someone else with a car topped with a giant-ass bow, my mom tells me that story as though I've never heard it before. I've probably heard it 6 or 7 times in the last 3 years.

The most recent time was about 10 minutes ago.


I'd like to dedicate #7 to my senile mother who made #6 possible. And now #7.

Thanks mom. Also, my name isn't Wendy. Love you lots!

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