How to Stretch Out a Party

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



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?


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.


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. 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.


…for after all the celebrating is over…


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

Party on indeed.





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.


Own advice not taken. Clearly.

2) Upon receiving presents, always act like you’ve just received the 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.


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.


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

4) Cake matters. Choose your design wisely.


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.


Adorableness fail.

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


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.


Shake, rattle and rollin’ accepted.


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.



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!






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.


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


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!


Weekend Winks Iowa Style

Road trip!

In celebration of my dad’s 60th birthday, we headed to party in our favorite state with family and friends.

Sick and tired of all of my recent travel, Teddy was bound and determined to make my packing difficult, trying to block the removal of clothes. I almost stuffed him into my suitcase.

Birthday boy all dolled up for his trip.

Look kids, the Arch! A drive by of the landmark in St. Louis.

Quick Trip. “The Mother of all gas stations,” according to the birthday boy. And yes, that’s one classy model a top the trash can.

Passing the nine hour drive with birthday presents every half hour (along with the Luke Bryan song “Country Girl” on repeat for two hours as a sing-a-l0ng. Yes, I’m serious. And yes, I wanted to rip the speakers out of the car).

Upon visiting cold Northern states, you don’t have to fret if you forget your coat. They sell them at gas stations. Phew.

An Iowa astronaut greeted us upon our 2am arrival. My dogphew Gunner.

Unable to resist the best chip dip in the world – Anderson Erickson French Onion – even at 3am.

Beer flight for the birthday boy at Parlor City in Cedar Rapids, IA.

One of the best burgers ever – a Jucy Lucy (American cheese cooked inside a 1/2 lb beef patty. I died of sheer happiness). Accompanied by sweet potato fries and a marshmallow dip. HEAVEN.

Ooey gooey goodness.

60 presents for the 60th birthday boy. We cancelled afternoon plans to fit them all in.

Hitting the Iowa City ped mall with the best jazz hander I know, my college bestie.

Football time! Beautiful stadium, fabulous weather, lousy team.

The Iowa Hawkeye mascot, Herky. My homeboy. More preferably my boyfriend but we can’t get our schedules coordinated.

Game day food – a giant pork tenderloin the size of my head. That I had no trouble stuffing into my face.

Hanging with the Iowa Elvis. Major pompadour competition!

Skinny Pirate party time with Hussy #5!

Whapsatoolie Time. A family tradition of mixing whatever liquor is available and making a shot for the guest of honor. Birthday boy handled with ease.

Disclaimer: Whapsatoolies lead to dance parties.

Birthday party garbage like this makes for a long nine hours home to Nashville.

And one long week ahead of me…