Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Getting together with my gal pals always starts off with classy intentions.

Sometimes, we start at a local Nashville winery where the owner is out and about rubbing elbows with visitors. And being that this winery dude used to be in one of country music’s biggest duos, Brooks and Dunn we have no shame in asking for a photo, naturally.

Does anyone else hear Neon Moon?

Patiently waiting for a neon moon with Kix Brooks while guzzling wine.

Typically on a ladies night, we begin with good intentions all dolled up with our lipstick still in tact.

Good intentions

Pretty in pink with lipstick, of course.

Then after about a cocktail and a half, photo shoots commence while our love for one another gushes throughout conversations.

Fun fun

I love you. No I love you! But I loooove you, Girl.

Once love is professed, it’s time for shots.

And then...

Cheers to classy times.

And then hell starts to break loose…like taking pictures of our party in the back of a mini van.

Photos!

Yep, that’s how we roll.

We feel free to ditch the shoes and any ounce of dignity as our killer heels hurt our feet.

Shoes off!

Who needs shoes when you have booze?!

Our magical powers of prowess surface as we will our significant others to call us.

Pleeeeeeeeease call!

Pleeeeeeeeease call!

We find other uses for feminine products while on cocktail number five.

Tampon Time

No Botox needed when you have a maxi pad.

The fun on girls night out never stops – not even for pangs of hunger.

STOP!

Won’t stop. Can’t stop.

Us trashtacular gals know when it’s time to stuff our faces like truck drivers in order to keep the party going.

Like this...

Eating cheeseburgers is hilarious business.

Once our bellies are full, we charge on divulging deep, dark secrets.

Secrets

Trust me, your secret is not safe with me.

Photo ops get a little trying as we start to lean like the Tower of Pisa.

Pic train

Wait, you leaning left or right?

Once we start feeling fat from cramming food in our bellies, yoga moves seem like a good idea.

Work it.

A plank pose. Who’s with me?

And then we get to feeling crafty. Who doesn’t want a marker creation on their forehead?

Get crafty.

Trust me. This is the best smiley face ever.

No gals evening is ever complete without the appearance of jazz hands.

Jazz hands, anyone?

Treating ten digits like extra accessories.

An evening with my sophisticated crowd wouldn’t be the same without helping a lady to a chair.

Hey-oh! It's not a GNO until someone is groped.

Hey-oh! It’s not a GNO until someone is groped.

But all good things must come to an end.

NOOOOOOOOO I never want the party to end!

NOOOOOOOOO I never want the party to stop!

Some of the bigger bawl babies have to be coddled – soothed into knowing there will be another night to galavant around with the girls.

Tell me I'm going to be OK...

Tell me I’m going to be OK…

Coming home in the morning light isn’t as glamorous as Cyndi Lauper makes it out to be but at least my mother isn’t yelling at me to get my life right.

To this. Sushi can suck it.

Dreams of next GNO dancing in my head.

While it may take us a little time to get back into our daily saddles again, we always have fun in the back of our minds as we work the week away.

Is it? Well, is it?!

Is it? Well, is it?!

Who’s in for the next night out?

CBXB

CBXB!

White Trash Winery

How do you roll at Nashville winery Arrington Vineyards, owned by Kix Brooks – half of the Brooks and Dunn country duo?

Do as the Tennesseans do!

Take pictures upon your arrival to the vineyard, so you have proof you were there.

We're heeeeere!

We’re heeeeere!

Stalk the country music artist owner to get your picture taken and then don’t smile because you want to act like it’s no big deal.

My Dad and Kix Brooks. New BFFs (only he Kis doesn't know it).

New BFFs (only Kix doesn’t know it yet).

Bring your own food into the winery to enjoy while sipping (well, you’re supposed to sip but I like to guzzle) wine.  Being that we are transplants from Iowa, we’re Midwesterners and (otherwise referred to as Yankees in the South – because people here tend to forget the Civil War ended 140+ years ago) we are very no nonsense about our table and how we arrange our snacks.

IMG_2367

Nothing fancy for us.

It seems Southerners on the other hand are a tad more uppity with their dining decor. Our table neighbors had a pressed table cloth to feature the same store bought food.

Classing it up with a table cloth

Why go to all of the trouble? The chips taste the same with or without the table cloth.

Paper napkins are a must at a winery! If you have one too many people show up, you can always add additional napkins quickly by ripping in half.

Half Nap

Not enough napkins? No worries!

Paper napkins also double as photo shields when you’re trying to hide from your camera happy daughter.

Photo Shield

Too fancy for photos.

Don’t bother bringing plates for your snacks, either.

No Plates

No plates? No problem! Just use the dip lid for crackers.

Plus, with low maintenance food, cleaning up is a snap.

Trash Compactor

Stack and throw!

In case you didn’t have time to give yourself a proper manicure, don’t worry. Just whip your scissors out at a table and proceed like you’re in the comforts of your own home. It’s not trashy at all.

Mani Time!

Do as the Tennesseans do. Clip your nails at the table.

As for Southern winery attire, you can go one of two ways.

Shiny sequins are more than appropriate, of course.

Or you can choose the more comfortable route…

IMG_2376

And wear your finest sweatshirt.

A heavy handed pour helps empty Arrington wine bottles with swift ease.

Full Pour, Please

I’ll take the last drop, thanks.

But if you’re really worried about getting all of the wine (like me), just drink from the bottle. Totally acceptable.

NO WASTING!

Wine. A terrible thing to waste.

What winery visit would be complete without a photo bomb?

Facebook Profile

Dad wanted an updated photo for his Facebook profile…too bad!

After all of the chugging and glugging, you’ll find it hard to leave. I got rather attached to a big, shiny tree on my way out.

Tree Hugger

I only hug trees when I wine.

I don’t know how they do it in Napa wineries but South of the Mason Dixon Line, we’re nothing but trashy class, Baby.

And proud of it.

CBXB