Crazy Pants and Crazy Aunts

 

Being a crazy pants, entertaining aunt may be the death of me but it’s sure a lot of goddamn fun. A recent trip back home to Iowa was full of celebrations – and that’s just the kind of days this chick needed.

My Aunt Crazy Pants had a birthday a few weeks ago and although she’s kicking cancer ass, she still found her party pants. My sister (the not always happy about being my partner in crime but does it anyway) and Mama CBXB were able to join in on the festivities.

Fab four.

Birthday Queen.

Naturally, I couldn’t resist adding a little bit of fuchsia to the birthday bash.

I now want to grow a mustache. Only in the fuchsia hue.

We even forced Mr. Jakers to get in on the shenanigans.

We kept the thrown down going the following day because, well, why the hell not stretch out a birthday for as long as possible?

Can’t stop. Won’t stop.

It was also my Aunt Crispie’s actual date of birth, so it was a double party whammy. Naturally our trashtastic family always uses the ever classy red solo cups for guzzling beverages of the alcoholic sort.

A trio of fun aunts. You figure out the crazy one.

Being the fun aunt just may be the reason of permanent paralysis below my waist… but so worth it.

A back adjustment the old-fashioned way.

One of the perks of being a short adult is my capability of stuffing myself into an extra-large kids t-shirt. Therefore, I get to wear matching tops with Princess B while she still thinks it’s cool.

It’s party time!

We ended Aunt Crazy Pants’s celebration week with a trip to trivia night at the local grocery store (yes, that is what we do in small town Iowa and it’s fucking fun). Although my brain cells only provided one correct question of 20, our team “The Rats,” were able to slip into second place while having a laugh riot.

Trivia tomfoolery.

Being that I live 1,000 miles away in Nashville, cramming in all celebrations close to my visit date is common. Therefore, Santa made a special visit just for me – even with a small, glittery tree.

Christmas in March.

We also scrunched in an early birthday bash for yours truly, so I really raked it in (don’t worry if you haven’t picked anything out for me yet – you still have time and yes, I will provide a list).

The more the merrier in March!

Any Iowa birthday party of mine isn’t complete without a trip to see my bro-in-law, Dr. Cocktail, who makes libations that rival any mixologist on the planet (and no, that isn’t an overstatement).

Manhattan man.

Mine. All mine.

While there were only four adults present at the kitchen island, it sort of seemed a fraternity party took place when we were winding down. But that only means it was an evening of amusement, yes?

A party of four…or 44?

Regardless of the time my head hit the pillow, I had the two most adorable alarm clocks bust in and interrupt my beauty sleep with their not-so-spot-on rooster imitations.

Cockadoodle don’t.

Talk about a fun aunt. I went to visit my great aunt Marge, whose husband of 67 years recently passed away. Out of the five sisters in her family, her husband was the last to pass and holy shit was he was one gem of a person. He basically became the surrogate hubby to the four widowed sisters – much to his (dismay, perhaps?) delight.

Uncle Bill’s ashes sit in an urn next to Marge’s TV stand. She pointed at it and said, “I’m going in there with Bill but I gotta lose some weight first.”

A BV and water party night.

If there’s anyone I can think of emanating in this lifetime, it’s this spunky, hilarious broad. She’s 88, looks maybe all of 68 and acts 38.

She can also sing karaoke from the couch.

And is obviously true relation with our family tradition of Jell-O shots.

More whipped cream for you?

After my Iowa party parade, I made it to the airport and back to Nashville just in the nick of time, as inches of snow were starting to accumulate.  Although, I was a tad disappointed I didn’t get to play with my two faves in the snow.

Snow bunnies.

However, I’m not sure I would have fit in with this “angel”.

Angelic my ass.

Here’s hoping your day is filled with a little fun, a little crazy or a whole lotta both.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

The Beauty of Birthdays

Birthdays of yesteryear taught me some extremely important lessons that I adhere to even today, as I prepare to celebrate another year of fabulous fun.

Huff. Puff. and Blow.

Huff. Puff. Blow.

1) Always take a peek in a mirror before a photo is snapped, forever capturing the loveliness of you on your special day or you may end up with something like this….

My most gorgeous birthday photo ever.

Hello Gorgeous.

Seriously. Stare in the mirror and give a rat’s ass or you’ll be gazing at your lovely self in something as beautiful as a crocheted vest for years to come.

Crochet nightmare

Fashion at its finest accessorized with wispy bangs.

Celebrate

Own advice not taken. Clearly.

2) Upon receiving presents, always act like you’ve just received the best.gift.ever. Even if you have no clue what it is or have no intention of ever wearing/using/displaying/eating/drinking.

Always act surprised.

Holy shit! I love it! No, truly I do.

3) Insist upon holding fingers up to commemorate which age you were celebrating when photos end up in albums.

Insist

I’m this many today.

Even if you’re not quite sure how old you are, own whatever you are saying which will demand more attention on you.

Even

If I say I’m two and a half, I AM TWO AND A HALF, ya dig?

4) Cake matters. Choose your design wisely.

Scoobs.

Everyone wants a piece of Scooby.

Then insist someone hand feed it to you.

Keepin' it classy. As usual.

Keepin’ it classy. As usual.

5) Practice your ‘birthday face’ so you can look adorable in all photos.

Mug for the camera.

Oh who me? Why yes it is my birthday. I’ll just hold this pose for the rest of the day.

Camera!

Adorableness fail.

6) Be sure to have a themed party. Even if it involves you looking like an ass clown.

theme

Send in the clowns.

7) Dance, jump and twirl to your heart’s content, acting as if you have one ounce of rhythm somewhere in your being.

PARTY!

Shake, rattle and rollin’ expected.

Dance

High kicks accepted.

Head banging also accepted.

Head banging also welcomed but you’ll regret it in the morning. Trust me.

8) Noisy favors are a must. Especially if party goers are under the age of six.

Blow it out.

Blow out birthday party.

9) Always go with the celebratory flow.

Go with the flow

Balloons in my hair? Sounds like a good birthday look.

Or at least let someone catch you when the flow gets to be too much for you to stand on your own.

Hey-oh!

Hey-oh!

10) Don’t ever turn away a birthday kiss, no matter how much you think it may hurt your face.

Scruffy faces hurt my cheek. Always low maintenance.

Always being low maintenance, scruffy faces hurt my cheek. Shave already!

11) Even if you share the same birthday with a cousin (gentleman to my left in photo below with thrilled look on his face) be sure you try to be the star of the show anyhow.

Sharing

Sorry. Not sorry B. Happy Birthday today by the way!

12) Never, ever, ever, ever turn down a birthday shot. Ever.

Why thank you

Birthdays taste so good.

Cheers to your birthdays of yesteryear – as well as a year full of the happiest of birthdays for all of us and those we hold dear!

This evening, I’ll be drinking to the wise words my Gma has told me every year, “having another birthday sure beats the alternative.”

Smart lady.

CBXB

CBXB!

 

Crazy Pants Party!

Looking for a fabulous way to kick cabin fever’s ass while celebrating a gal pal’s birthday, there was no better idea than to host a crazy pants party at my mini manse.

Crazy time.

Crazy time for crazy ladies.

Naturally needing to up my outfit ante,  I added pink tinsel eyelashes to my look…which I now want to be an everyday staple.

Details matter most.

Details matter most.

With my outfit ready and set to go, party food being monitored for meddling pussies and birthday decor in proper places, there was only one thing left to do…

Feed me.

Feed me.

… get the furry little host with the most set to be the greeter.

Greeter all

Everyone go home. I’m tired.

And then the crazy pants came in droves!

Crazy Pants!

Literal crazy pants arrived.

Clark Kent in his skivies.

Clark Kent showed in his skivvies.

Party pants with pops of color and sequins for me.

Party pants with polka dots, poppies and sequins mixed and mingled.

The Mad Hatter in her flannel and elf.

Flannel  pants and footie pjs won the prize for comfiest attendees.

And why stop at pants when you can add crazy hats?

Why stop at pants when you can add crazy hats?

Bedazzled helmets for our heads.

Now it’s not a party without a little drama – and you could cut the animal tension with a knife when sweet Precious rolled in.

Precious party goer in her sparkly giddy up.

Stealing Ted’s spotlight (that I’m still paying for).

With a puppy and two pussies under my roof already, this CBXB party wasn’t complete without my Pa.

My eyes are open.

Yes my eyes are open, you just can’t tell because of my six inch long tinsel lashes.

Nor will any party of mine be complete without classy rounds of Jell-O shots served by the one and only Mama CBXB.

You're been served.

You’re been served.

Once I’d consumed my weight in gelatinous goodness, it was time to ruin party pics.

Plenty of party pics for me to ruin.

You’re welcome.

While I was busy being the star of every camera’s show, Dada CBXB didn’t mind taking in all of the lovely lady sights.

All kinds of lovin' spread around.

A perfectly paired couple – from top to bottom.

A crazy pants party isn’t complete without various cray cray lady pics with an appropriate prop.

What's a crazy pants party without crazy party girls?

The angry drunk crazy lady.

Cr

The run for the hills and never look back crazy as fuck cat lady.

Crazy crying girl who was quickly DisLiked.

The crazy crying girl who was DisLiked.

With the shenanigans raging on until daylight started to creep in the windows, Teddy resorted to his Juicy Couture Pussy Palace where he knew I couldn’t fit in and breathe stale Skinny Pirate breath all over him.

Pussy Palace

A fancy furry tent cures kitty hangovers.

And as those wee rays of sunshine poured into the mini manse, I could only muster the energy to reach for my recovery kit complete with vodka, bloody mary mix and aspirin. Lots and lots of aspirin.

Still sippin' on my juice today..

A true life saver.

I may or may not still be sipping on a recovery mix days after this party ended, along with lots and lots and lots of aspirin.

Here’s hoping your week has been headache free!

CBXB

CBXB!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weekend Winks – Pussy Party!

My Nashville weekend consisted of celebrating a pussy’s anniversary, twins entering their second year on the planet and seeing a girlfriend move to the beach (that bitch).

Celebrating New Cat not being new anymore.

Yeehaw! New Cat’s not so new anymore.

First Mate packed up her bags and moved her tiny ass to the beaches of Florida on Friday. Now I know you don’t feel sorry for her but can you feel a teeny-weeny tiny sad for me?  She’s one of my only unmarried without children friends who can still do things on a moment’s notice. Poor me…guess I’ll just have to go visit her at the beach.

Bon Voyage First Mate!

Bon Voyage First Mate!

My Iowa twosome were extremely busy gearing up for their second birthday party.

Twosome getting ready for two. Mellow Rreading time.

With a little reading time.

Mellow snow time.

With a little snow time.

Mellow hug time.

With a little hug time.

My folks and I were not only celebrating the twins in Nashville on Saturday but we were also cheering on our Iowa Hawkeye basketball team AND honoring New Cat’s first 365 days in my mini manse.

Impromptu Iowa game watch AND mini celebration for NC

Impromptu Iowa game watch combined with a mini celebration for NC.

We may or may not have done a moonshine shot every single time Iowa made a basket.

Happy with the fifth...

Who needs a touchdown?

No, we really didn’t do that.

Or did we…..?

Lead us to doing toe touches like the Golden Girls.

Relax, that’s just water in my cup.

I really did need some moonshine while trying to stuff New Cat in to his anniversary giddy up.

Not so picture purrfect.

Not so picture purrfect.

But Grammie CBXB brought in an anniversary card accompanied by a felt fish laced with catnip.  Being that I am a person who doesn’t consume anything unhealthy (unless it’s a Skinny Pirate, wine, vodka, moonshine, white whiskey or a fried food – obviously my body is my temple) it never dawned on me that New New would be interested in something that might mellow him the fuck out.

YES PLEASE.

First time for everything.

Mission accomplished.

Mission accomplished.

Helping mellow out Dada CBXB

The poor fish ended up on my dad’s teeny tiny foot.

While we were busy getting felines high, Prince and Princess B were partying hard with birthday cake and candles.

Meanwhile...

All about those babes.

Thankfully they were able to work off their sugar rush in a bouncy house.

Bounced it outta their system.

I can’t wait to jump in there with them.

Turns out, both my nephew and niece take after yours truly (much to the chagrin of their parents) in some special way…

Prince B eats just like his Auntie CBXB.

Prince B eats just like Auntie CBXB.

Why take a tiny bite when you can shove it all in at once?

And Princess B is mastering the art of a selfie.

I might as well have birthed her.

I might as well have birthed her.

No Weekend Winks post would be complete without the star of my life, Mr. Ted E. Bear, who was more than displeased that none of the weekend shenanigans had anything to do with him.

Had it with all of us party goers necause none of it had to do with him.

The world revolves around me. Shut up and let me sleep.

Obviously my cat also takes after me…

Cheers!
CBXB

CBXB!

How to Stretch Out a Party

I’ve never met a day I couldn’t celebrate, especially when it involves my date of birth.

Ole!

Ole!

Remember the fun celebrations of yesteryear, where all the school kids would line up on your special day for a piece of cake and a party favor?

Party!

The beginning of my celebratory spirit. The more, the merrier.

Well now that I’m an adult (I use that term loosely) and most of the folks I know have real grown-up lives (you know, mortgages, spouses, babies, jobs – which I know nothing about except for the work part) it’s harder to get everyone together for one celebration. Which means that I streeeeeetch the occasion out for as long as humanly possible.

On my actual birthday, I was greeted with tasty lunchtime treats followed by a 9 hour work meeting.

Wish my work buddies knew me better.

Wish my work buddies knew me better.

Upon the adjournment of our conference the work boys wined and dined me, starting with a light-up cocktail menu that had to be pried from my paws when the waiter came to take it away.

Light up menu solves everything.

The only way this menu could get better was if there was a mirror on one side.

Birthday love

Feeling the love.

Wish I may I wish I might stretch my birthday out 'til next Friday night.

Wish I may, wish I might stretch my birthday out ’til next Friday night.

The week continued with a surprise visit from my fave Real Housewife from the South where we celebrated our mutual love of vodka.

Still sizzlin'

Presence is the best present!

'tini time.

Strawberry martinis never disappoint.

Cake!

Dessert #2 for the second straight night…

With wine and vodka under my sparkly birthday belt, it was time to party down with tequila.

Lime in the coconut time!

Birthdays make you thirsty.

Shits and giggles.

Margaritas make you topsy-turvy.

I-ei-ei-ei...love fri-ie-ie-ied ice cream!

Dessert three nights in a row makes your hips curvy.

As the handsome staff surrounded our table with song, I was also sweetly smothered in whipped cream.

Sing to me.

Laugh all you want. I’m keeping this sombrero.

Thing is…the hat was heavier than anticipated.

Marg me

Straining my neck for the love of tequila.

The burdensome headpiece proved to thwart all ability to sip margaritas with any shred of dignity.

Heavy crown.

Balancing act fail.

So I decided to keep the crown down, taking it easy on the high maintenance neck.

So I kept my head down.

Bow down to the gaudy crown.

What better way to round out the party spree than spending it with Ma and my beloved rum?

Mama and me.

The grand finale.

My Skinny Pirate loving ass took to the bar stool that should have my name etched in it at Dalts (my Nashville version of Cheers).

photo 4

Captain Morgan I am obviously not.

The bday week wouldn’t have been complete without a little March Madness and a bloody mary now would it?

Winding down

The perfect wind down.

Like I ever wind down...

Like I ever wind down.

At least my fabulous friend knew exactly what I would need come Sunday evening.

Sunday

…for after all the celebrating is over…

Exhausting.

Clearly working off all of the extra calories consumed through the week was a major concern.

Party on indeed.

CBXB

CBXB!

 

 

Rules for Kick Ass Birthday Celebrations

Birthdays of yesteryear taught me some extremely important lessons that I adhere to even today, as I prepare to celebrate another year of fabulous fun.

Huff. Puff. and Blow.

Huff. Puff. Blow.

1) Always take a peek in a mirror before a photo is snapped, forever capturing the loveliness of you on your special day or you may end up with something like this….

My most gorgeous birthday photo ever.

Hello Gorgeous.

Seriously. Stare in the mirror and give a rat’s ass or you’ll be gazing at your lovely self in something as beautiful as a crocheted vest.

Crochet nightmare

Fashion at its finest accessorized with wispy bangs.

Celebrate

Own advice not taken. Clearly.

2) Upon receiving presents, always act like you’ve just received the best.gift.ever. Even if you have no clue what it is or have no intention of ever wearing/using/displaying/eating/drinking.

Always act surprised.

Holy shit! I love it! No, truly I do.

3) Insist upon holding fingers up to commemorate which age you were celebrating when photos end up in albums.

Insist

I’m this many today.

Even if you’re not quite sure how old you are, own whatever you are saying which will demand more attention on you.

Even

If I say I’m two and a half, I AM TWO AND A HALF, ya dig?

4) Cake matters. Choose your design wisely.

Scoobs.

Everyone wants a piece of Scooby.

Then insist someone hand feed it to you.

Keepin' it classy. As usual.

Keepin’ it classy. As usual.

5) Practice your ‘birthday face’ so you can look adorable in all photos.

Mug for the camera.

Oh who me? Why yes it is my birthday. I’ll just hold this pose for the rest of the day.

Camera!

Adorableness fail.

6) Be sure to have a themed party. Even if it involves you looking like an ass clown.

theme

Send in the clowns.

7) Dance, jump and twirl to your heart’s content, acting as if you have one ounce of rhythm somewhere in your being.

PARTY!

Shake, rattle and rollin’ accepted.

Dance

High kicks accepted.

Head banging also accepted.

Head banging also accepted but you’ll regret it in the morning. Trust. me.

8) Noisy favors are a must. Especially if party goers are under the age of six.

Blow it out.

Blow out birthday party.

9) Always go with the celebratory flow.

Go with the flow

Balloons in my hair? Sounds like a good birthday look.

Or at least let someone catch you when the flow gets to be too much for you to stand on your own.

Hey-oh!

Hey-oh!

10) Never, ever, ever, ever turn down a birthday shot. Ever.

Why thank you

Birthdays taste so good.

Cheers to a year full of the happiest of birthdays for all of us!

CBXB

CBXB!

 

 

 

Weekend Winks – Finger Lickin’ Good

Football, a fur ball, a first birthday and Jersey Boys were the ingredients to all kinds of weekend fun!

With a long Nashville week behind us, all Teddy wanted to do on Friday was drink cattails out of the sink (Can you blame him? Napping, eating, napping, bird watching, eating and napping all day tends to parch this feline).

So demanding

Driven to drink by his demanding life.

Of course seeing Ted’s little tail in the air, I couldn’t let him drink alone.

Image 41

Don’t worry. Mom’s got your back.

Tedstar and I reminisced about our cute little Iowa T-bird and Pink Lady as we flipped through their trick-or-treating photos.

Danny uko and Rizzo

Cutest Danny Zuko and Rizzo. Ever.

We prepped for our Saturday tailgate (or really our homegate –  as no trucks are involved, we’re inside and set the food on a kitchen table…) by getting the most important item ready. Our moonshine.

Sympathy Shot

Prepped and ready for our traditional touchdown shots!

The crew was kinda lazy this week and went with all store bought snacks (Halloween was hard on us me and it was all I could do to get out of bed by 10:15am for the 11am kick-off).

Store bought spread

Purchased with love.

However, my very own King of the BBQ brought in his famous ribs (thanks Dad). You know, the ones were each batch he makes is, “my best ever.”

Rib Rescue

Finger lickin’ good ribs to the ho-hum food rescue.

Delighted to have protein added to my carb heavy acquisitions, I tried to single handedly eat all of the ribs without getting sauce everywhere.

Pretty

Round one.

Face 1

Round 2.

Not so much

Round three. Anybody got a wet wipe?

Our Iowa Hawkeyes began to bore around halftime and Mr. Bear assumed his favorite football viewing position.

Assume position

The excitement is killing him.

Did what we all wanted to do

Snorefest

As our team sank into another loss, we took it upon ourselves to shoot it down with our beloved moonshine.

Sympathy shots

Sympathy shots.

While we were busy trying to get drunk, Teddy was concerned with trying to kill his new toy. A skeleton Gma gifted him for Halloween.

Killed it right away

My name is Teddy Bear. Prepare to die.

Being that this was a skeleton and it was already dead (unbeknownst to my Einstein of a cat – he takes after his mother), Ted ended up falling in love with the stuffed creature and had it by his side the rest of the day.

Best Buds

Best buds.

While the bear was busy with his brain cells, I was getting all blinged out with somewhere to go Saturday night.

Blinged out

Birthday parties call for bling.

My friends Wild Bill and G’s (you know – the one who almost punched an 80-year-old man for me) little pumpkin turned the big single digit!

Lil pumpkin

Celebrating 365 days of cuteness.

While trying to avoid stepping on any one of the 234 tiny hands crawling on the floor with my stilettos, I kinda hung tight with the crowd I know I can’t hurt (but has often done a number on me…).

Up'd our wine quota when we knew you were coming. Smart man.

Hello friends.

As the soiree started to wind down, here’s what remained…

After party now.

After party.

I couldn’t help but think of what kinds of after party remnants used to be found after our parties a few short years ago.

After party then.

Hello old fun. I miss you.

As my friends went to tuck little ones away for slumber, I headed back to unhaunt my mini-manse from all of my Halloween shenanigans.

So helpful as project manager

The always helpful Ted overseeing the take down.

After Teddy inspected every single spooky decoration that went into a Tupperware bin, I got ready for a hot date with my mama.

Frankie Valli was

Four Seasons to oogle over.

A great show, fabulous evening and mama was even able to relax although our seats were up near the clouds (she’s terrified of heights).

All Smiles

Don’t look down.

A little bummed with the end of Halloween, I was quickly reminded of what’s just around the corner.

It's just around the corner

Santa. I know him!

Have I mentioned I’m just as cray over Christmas as I am Halloween?

Consider yourself warned.

Cheers to a fabulous week!
CBXB

CBXB!