Oh. Now the hyperlink adder is working. Sigh.
Click here to go to the Fab's new blog.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Darlings!
The Fab has a new post. It is not this one, and it is not here.
My add a hyperlink thingy isn't functioning.
Go here ---> www.fantasticfabiola.com scroll slighly down.
My add a hyperlink thingy isn't functioning.
Go here ---> www.fantasticfabiola.com scroll slighly down.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Last Quarter
The moon is at the last quarter, but the Fab sees it as half tonight. As you know darlings, Fabiola's moon is always half full (not half empty). What moon do you see tonight?
Monday, August 24, 2009
Intersection of this and that ...
Darlings, the Fab has been pondering music. One song from three days ago (that song is really from 1976 not three days ago -- but it was new to the Fab three days ago, which works out to be the same now does't it?) Holding up a hand: Don't argue with the Fab darlings, the Fab is a figment, arguing with a figment of someone else's imagination, well, how can you win? But mostly the Fab has been contemplating music remembered from her highschool(ish) years. Perhaps music is too broad of a term, the Fab's years of 1975 through 1979 were dominated by power ballads and disco. What is a Fab to do? She works with what she has that is what she does. Don't worry if this isn't making any sense, nor does it appear to be headed towards a point. Of course you know that the Fab has explained that she is less than linear, try as she might to have it point North, the Fab's compass insists on spinning round and round. (That the Fab still follows that compass, despite knowing this is as much a wonderment to her as it may be to you.). A destination then if not a direction? Yes.
The destination is music once heard that grabs onto a moment and there it stays forever verses music that drifts along with you always staying close but never finding an anchor in memory. You have no idea what the Fab is talking about?
A song that the Fab liked, Bad Girls by Donna Summer is stuck somewhere in the middle of a hundred or more hearings headed west through a stop sign at the intersection of 12th avenue and 34th street in Moline on a sunny summer afternoon. Why then, why there the Fab has no idea, but toot toot, hey, beep beep and there we are.
On the other hand, a song that the Fab loves has been drifting in and out of memory since 1975 without finding a spot to light and stay. Pehaps it is a song that deservs more than a three second pause at a 4-way stop at the bottom of a hill.
The destination is music once heard that grabs onto a moment and there it stays forever verses music that drifts along with you always staying close but never finding an anchor in memory. You have no idea what the Fab is talking about?
A song that the Fab liked, Bad Girls by Donna Summer is stuck somewhere in the middle of a hundred or more hearings headed west through a stop sign at the intersection of 12th avenue and 34th street in Moline on a sunny summer afternoon. Why then, why there the Fab has no idea, but toot toot, hey, beep beep and there we are.
On the other hand, a song that the Fab loves has been drifting in and out of memory since 1975 without finding a spot to light and stay. Pehaps it is a song that deservs more than a three second pause at a 4-way stop at the bottom of a hill.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Remember Shrinky Dinks?
Remember Shrinky Dinks? No the Fab didn't so much either until a week or so ago. Of course, lovely, brightly colored, shrinking plastic had almost nothing to do with the actual event but as is the way with the Fab, tossing some around can only help.
That said, the Fab went with Mary to her 30th High School Reunion. Fortunately, the Fab is ageless. Mary, on the other hand ... well, it is the mileage now isn't? Gets ya every time. Still, Mary had a great time. She did. No, you ask her if you want to hear about it. Isn't the Fab's story to tell. Mary hasn't written a word since February, slacker.
Third paragraph darlings and the Fab is winding up to tell you what she came to say. Everything shrunk. While the places were all there and next to the other places remembered, and everything looked almost exactly the same, everthing was smaller and closer together. Entire city blocks, shrunk. Parking lots were cut in half. Nothing was as tall or as wide or anything as it should have been. the Fab could not figure it out. Until, the realization hit. When the Fab last looked at Moline, she had city eyes, since then she has been looking through country eyes. Out in the middle of not much of anything, everything is very far apart and the Fab now knows that a gal gets used to seeing things that way, because in her memory, the places that she used to live, expanded. A trip back however, shrunk them right back down to where they (always really were) and should be. Interesting.
Don't for a second suppose that the Fab is talking about the people she talked to. No, they were more wonderful than the Fab remembered.
That said, the Fab went with Mary to her 30th High School Reunion. Fortunately, the Fab is ageless. Mary, on the other hand ... well, it is the mileage now isn't? Gets ya every time. Still, Mary had a great time. She did. No, you ask her if you want to hear about it. Isn't the Fab's story to tell. Mary hasn't written a word since February, slacker.
Third paragraph darlings and the Fab is winding up to tell you what she came to say. Everything shrunk. While the places were all there and next to the other places remembered, and everything looked almost exactly the same, everthing was smaller and closer together. Entire city blocks, shrunk. Parking lots were cut in half. Nothing was as tall or as wide or anything as it should have been. the Fab could not figure it out. Until, the realization hit. When the Fab last looked at Moline, she had city eyes, since then she has been looking through country eyes. Out in the middle of not much of anything, everything is very far apart and the Fab now knows that a gal gets used to seeing things that way, because in her memory, the places that she used to live, expanded. A trip back however, shrunk them right back down to where they (always really were) and should be. Interesting.
Don't for a second suppose that the Fab is talking about the people she talked to. No, they were more wonderful than the Fab remembered.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Fabiola Confesses to her very first crush ...
Yes darlings, it has been forever and ever since the Fab posted anything. Therefore she understands the import of making this post as interesting as possible. Now, the Fab asks you, could there be anything more fascinating than a personal tid-bit about the Fab's early years? The Fab didn't think so.
The Fab was 10, the year was, well, ago. Fab's very first crush was on a fascinating caracter on Sesame Street -- The Mad Painter. He painted numbers on things. And. Well. That is about it. Oh stop, th Fab had youngr siblings. Still the Fab found something fascinating about the determined number painter. Well, she did. And she still has a thing for the number 11.
The Fab was 10, the year was, well, ago. Fab's very first crush was on a fascinating caracter on Sesame Street -- The Mad Painter. He painted numbers on things. And. Well. That is about it. Oh stop, th Fab had youngr siblings. Still the Fab found something fascinating about the determined number painter. Well, she did. And she still has a thing for the number 11.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Wedding Invitation Address Etiquette ...
Hello Darlings!
Yes the Fab has abandoned you. Mary has been busy and horrible and ... well, the Fab doesn't want to talk about that.
The Fab does want to mention that spring is that time when lots of weddings occur. It is no coincidence just prior to that, expensive, carefully prepared, hand addressed insults (wedding invitations) arrive. You see darlings, my alter ego lives in one of those non traditional thingys with the crabby guy. Shrug.
Fifteen years.
Now, most everyone that knows CG, knows Mary just as well. Everyone also knows that most men never go to weddings unless poked and prodded, nagged at and possibly hog tied and dragged to the event. Of course the Fab is right.
Back to the expensive insults. Wedding invitations invaribly arrive addressed to: C.G. and Guest - or worse - C.G. on the outside envelope, and Guest inside. Now, the Fab has to tell you that anyone that knows CG well enough to invite him to a wedding also knows that gift shopping, wrapping and sending will not be performed by him. Ever. He won't appear at the "event" without the effort of "and Guest" either.
The Fab has no doubt that some twisted form of etiquette demands that invitations be addessed as insults to the person that will be spending the time and money to respond in the polite manner.
Usually the Fab counsels (and her alter-ego disregards the counsel) that the insult invitation be ignored (it is easier and cheaper). Recently one arrived that is so egregious that Fab is advising that her alter ego buy a gift, send it well ahead of time, with the gift card signed "and Guest".
Etiquette be damned, the Fab is sick of it.
Yes the Fab has abandoned you. Mary has been busy and horrible and ... well, the Fab doesn't want to talk about that.
The Fab does want to mention that spring is that time when lots of weddings occur. It is no coincidence just prior to that, expensive, carefully prepared, hand addressed insults (wedding invitations) arrive. You see darlings, my alter ego lives in one of those non traditional thingys with the crabby guy. Shrug.
Fifteen years.
Now, most everyone that knows CG, knows Mary just as well. Everyone also knows that most men never go to weddings unless poked and prodded, nagged at and possibly hog tied and dragged to the event. Of course the Fab is right.
Back to the expensive insults. Wedding invitations invaribly arrive addressed to: C.G. and Guest - or worse - C.G. on the outside envelope, and Guest inside. Now, the Fab has to tell you that anyone that knows CG well enough to invite him to a wedding also knows that gift shopping, wrapping and sending will not be performed by him. Ever. He won't appear at the "event" without the effort of "and Guest" either.
The Fab has no doubt that some twisted form of etiquette demands that invitations be addessed as insults to the person that will be spending the time and money to respond in the polite manner.
Usually the Fab counsels (and her alter-ego disregards the counsel) that the insult invitation be ignored (it is easier and cheaper). Recently one arrived that is so egregious that Fab is advising that her alter ego buy a gift, send it well ahead of time, with the gift card signed "and Guest".
Etiquette be damned, the Fab is sick of it.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Wednesdom - Ideas
Men die but an idea does not.
~ Alan J. Lerner
The Street Where I Live - My Fair Lady
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