Weekend Winks – Rapegate, Pool Parties and Fang Fingers

You guys really know how to help a gal when she’s down and out! The overflowing abundance of support from my Rapegate post restored any questionable faith in humanity I may have had prior to posting. Not only was writing about the trauma cathartic for me, as now the matter is out in the open and I can talk about it, but also I didn’t expect the feelings of relief – conflicted with a little bit of fear when I hit the ‘publish’ button on the post.

What’s a gal who likes to celebrate do with mixed emotions and feelings of waves as large of a tsunami? She cracks open a bottle of champs given to her by gal pal Saving Grace (I was saving it for a momentous occasion – and this felt like one) while bawling and laughing at the same time. Yes, I’m still a hot mess.

Cheers to the release of yesteryear! Oh, and of course, FUCK 2016.

The outpouring of your support – my army that each and every one of you reading right now is a part of – lifted me up so high, so fast I just can’t thank you enough for the kind words, comments, messages, cards, letters, sharing of your own traumas, calls, texts and visits. While I might be Captain Sparkly Pants, you all have been nothing short of soldiers supporting one of their own. For that, I thank the fuck out of you.

Every single portion of Rapegate has been riddled with road bumps. So it’s onward and upward as I move forward, navigating unknown terrain even to my Sex Crimes Detective. We’ll get that worked out, I’m sure.

The wrong woman was fucked. Literally and figuratively.

Warm fuzzies are creeping back into the cracks of my emotions. My heart swelled a little when my phone reminded me over the weekend of cherished moments my sister and Gma shared on the last days of our grandma’s life. Of course, I had a picture of my stank-eyed pussy Ted, too, from that day.

Three of my favorite peeps still today.

When I texted the photos to my sister, we talked about how fast it’s gone – feeling like maybe it should be the first year.

It’s true. In two years, our extended family has gone through two divorces, a birth (yay!), rape (that’d be mine), cancer (that’d be Aunt Crazy Pants), a cross-country move for a cousin….just to name a few.

While reminiscing over the last two years, Facebook had an amusing memory from five years ago of Dada CBXB and I having a patio party, after we’d done some planting (in pots, to which didn’t make of course).

Funny, we already had plans to ‘decorate’ my mini manse loggia (fancy word I learned from a previous, rich employer that means back porch as I kept saying back porch and she kept correcting me that it was a loggia). So we hit up the flower hot spot for ferns, all pink flowers and some sort of palm thing that is going to go great with my pink flamingo (of course a gal like me has plant accessories before the actual plant).

Green thumbs galore.

Because that thirty minutes was so exhausting, we spent the rest of the day playing at the pool.

Fun fun in the sun.

My favorite pussy also likes to relax in the rays but I just can’t help myself and have to take a picture. This is always the glare I get when I get caught mid snap.

Resting bitchy face with a case of the side eye.

Wanna know what those two Iowa twins are up to? Well, first off they have graduated from pre-school.

Get out the caps and gowns.

Naturally, this meant celebrating was in order and they didn’t hate one minute of it.

Starting with snow cones.

Celebration splash pad style.

Their parents even took them to see where it all began. At the bar in Iowa City, where my sister approached her future husband at the very booth below for a cigarette (obviously the trashtacular classiness runs in the family). He didn’t smoke (neither did she) but it all worked out and here we are today…

Taking it back to where all of the magic began.

Being that they’d visited a festival, Princess B had to get her face painted – and clearly thought it was poorly done as you can see from the photo below.

Hello gorgeous.

Graduating from pre-school also calls for dessert.

Sweets for the sweets.

Dessert that was good to the last drop.

Yep. Definitely takes after her aunt CBXB.

Something else seeping back in through the cracks of this gal is nail painting and t-shirt bedazzling. Nashville’s NHL team, the Nashville Predators have made it to the Stanley Cup finals (for those of you who don’t know hockey – it’s like the Superbowl. For those of you who don’t know what that is, just look at the nails and sparkly shirt below) for the first time ever in our franchise’s history. I joined in on the fanfare with Predator colored nails and blinged up a shirt to boot.

Fang Fingers is what the crowd does here in Nashville when the opposing team has to go to the penalty box. They play the music from the shower scene in Psycho and fans seriously stand there and move two fingers from both hands in a clawing motion. We may look like ass clowns but we don’t care. Also, I was so pumped to get this shirt because aside from getting to see our mascot Gnash come down from the ceiling before every game, I can’t ever wait to do Fang Fingers.

All out sparkle for my fave Cinderella NHL team.

The Predators were on no one’s radar and have had the heart, fight and spirit of Nashville behind them. For real, the entire city could not be more proud. This is a photo of the main artery in Nashville on game day. It stemmed from the stadium with an overflow of people who couldn’t get in to the game (due to the insane ticket prices) down ten blocks to the river. Not to mention the packed bars and restaurants.

Game day in Smashville.

While the Preds are behind in the series 2-1, you can help cheer them on with me at 7pm CST on NBCSN.  They whooped some ass on Saturday with final score being 5-1. Badasses.

Speaking of badass, here’s how I pumped up my mental state closing out the weekend.

The inner badass is coming back…

You guys are my badasses. My army of badasses. I love each and every one of you.

Hooah!

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Can’t Steal My Sunshine

The past 240 days of 2016 have put me in a seemingly endless downward spiral, creating a monster of a walking, talking freak show shell of myself because when bad shit happens to good people, everyone responds differently. In my case, I’ve been left in a constant state of limbo for nearly 9 months, in which actions of those in authority performed, conducted demanded (by me) on my behalf were out of my control (a fucking nightmare for an OCD maniac such as moi).

Being wound tighter than a yo-yo that hasn’t been used since 1972, good news was delivered Friday morning that made me happier than in as long as my memory can serve me (which isn’t saying much these days). The kind of happy that makes you feel intoxicated in the absence of booze (of course that didn’t last long). The kind of happy that makes you feel genuine joy. The kind of happy that gives you a glimmer of hope, a sliver of validation and sparkling reminder that karma is a motherfucker when it’s doled out to those who deserve it.

The kind of happy that feels like sunshine.

Cheersing to karma being a motherfucker.

The celebration between a mother and her little fucker.

As tidings of joy (god, I can’t wait for Christmas) spread, my support group helped me celebrate from coast to coast.

From Hotlanta!

Love in the form of a 12 pack from Atlanta.

Flowers of

Feted with flowers from gal pal and blogging bestie  Princess Rosebud from Cali.

Good thing for me the celebrating didn’t end with Skinny Pirates on Friday night. The party trickled into Saturday, where I didn’t have to choose a fave booze to holler’n’swaller t0 while cheering on my beloved Iowa Hawkeyes.

Playing Favorites

Room for all of my nearest and dearest game day delights.

A small hair of the dog did take the Friday night bite out of the 11am kick-off.

Game day started off right.

Even the tailgate crew gussied up in their game day finest.

Gussied up and

Glitterati is a good sport.

Trying to keep our average American figures in check, our tailgate spread remained low carb (but who gives a rat’s ass how many are in your cocktail, amIright?).

Healthy spread to offset the dehydration of livers.

Healthy spread to offset the dehydration of livers.

I even cooked something without a recipe…yes. Be ah-mazed. Because I still am.

Cauliflower crusted buffalo chicken pizza.

Cauliflower crusted buffalo chicken pizza.

Family tradition continued the shenanigans of good fortune with touchdown shots.

Shot one! But not done.

Shot one! But not done.

Two and through.

Two and through.

The Hawkeyes eeked out a victory (a win is a win no matter how ugly) and while I take a victory even if not proudly, my heart about burst with delight when I received this video of Princess B.

 

I know that you are now overflowing with patriotism. I mean, who couldn’t after that rendition of the Pledge of Allegiance?  And, speaking of overflow, here’s hoping all of you peeps in Iowa are staying as dry as possible although the waters seem to keep rising.

Four feet of sandbags and still a raging river in Cedar Rapids.

Four feet of sandbags and still a raging river in Cedar Rapids.

The rest of my weekend was spent deciding what mini manse improvement projects I should do now that I have a little pep back in my step. It’s amazing how much an ounce of relief can revive your spirit. My pal Mills made the suggestion below and I think it’s something that even I could handle in a day’s work.

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I mean, I already have the bag of wine, I just need to find massive shower clips. Who can help?

The pussy posse dominated my Sunday, demanding some mama time. I’m sure you can guess who still remains king of the castle though, right?

Thank God I have enough body mass for all of them.

Thank God I have enough body mass for all of them.

While I’m not a political pot stirrer, I couldn’t help but fall truly, madly, deeply in love with this shirt

Love trumps hate. Truth trumps dishonesty. Karma trumps asshats.

Love trumps hate.
Truth trumps dishonesty.
Karma trumps asshats.

Here’s hoping nothing steals your sunshine this week.

Cheers!

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Merry Moments

Anyone else love the holiday season?

I hate celebrating.

I hate celebrating.

We packed up the Nashville sleigh and headed to see the Iowa twins for their third visit from Santa.

Twice the fun!

Twice the fun!

Precious the chug came as my mascot and was voted most popular over the Christmas weekend.

Precious the chug.

Presh had no clue what she was in for all weekend.

She was squeezed, kissed, loved and given the new name Pweshy by the twins.

Lots of lovin' for Pweshy.

Princess B and Princess P.

When the chug was napping, Auntie CBXB’s makeup bag was quite the exciting place to play.

Easy, breezy, beautiful cover girl.

Easy, breezy, beautiful cover girl.

Both twins obviously have a future in the beauty industry as I demonstrated their mad application skills.

Easy, breezy, trashy, c

Ready for date night.

After scrubbing my face for what felt like a solid eight hours, we moved on to matching manicures.

Mani Time

I’m being told EXACTLY how to apply the polish.

And then…it was Christmas eve Griswold family style.

CHRISTMAS DAY!

Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where’s the Tylenol?

Speaking of the Griswolds, Dada CBXB has been watching my adopted feline twins Clark and Cousin Eddie since my main squeeze Ted E. Bear has been adjusting to life with inflammatory bowel disease and pancreatitis (both treatable in cats!). Since he’s had them the past few months, Dad’s fallen in love and we made it official as I pretended to be the Griswold character Aunt Bethany and wrapped up my damn cats, gifting them to the big guy.

Dada officially got the twins, Clark and Cousin Eddie.

Dada and his Griswold twins.

Santa delivered all kinds of festive fun but I decided to dress up as his sparkly girlfriend for the shits and giggles of merriment.

We need some Christmas spirit. Obviously.

We need some Christmas spirit.
Obviously.

The biggest gift under the tree helped someone think they were hot shit taking their new power wheel out for a spin.

Hating life.

Not hating life.

I was also not hating life as I bonded with my new dogphew, Spike. He is a six month old golden doodle who is already the size of a small polar bear and makes the best cuddle partner.

Mauling

Maul me please.

In not so merry news, I recently lost my job so it was only fitting that my favorite gift was a coffee mug with a well known slogan from the movie Bridesmaids that has become my personal motto.

My Transition from a 9-5 Office Job to the Health & Fitness Industry ...

Help me, I'm poor.

Striking resemblance, no?

But I’ve still got my sparkle with the help of my mini me.

Princess, Precious and Poor.

Princess, Precious and Poor.

Here’s hoping your holiday weekend was filled with lots of jingling bells and cocktails!

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Goodbye to Gma the Great

I’ve never been one to take my family or time with them for granted, so it was real bummer when my Gma passed away a few weeks ago. Not only was she one of my best buddies, I know I inherited her brutal honesty, ornery streak and love of having my fingernails polished.

An ode to my Gma, HJ who recently passed away…

Gma

Always one to laugh at surprises…

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…you took to my photobombing like it was one of your most treasured prizes.

Photo Bomb!

You never let anyone forget…

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…when it was time to celebrate you bigger than the national debt.

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I learned from the best…

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…how to celebrate my life full of zest.

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Now seriously Gma, you taught me to party harder than Mae West.

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A love of leopard you instilled….

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…which is now being passed down to the next generation, who’s thrilled.

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It’s so fun you two met at a skating rink…

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…even if after 44 years you still had to steal kisses quicker than an eye blink.

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Although I took after Gpa avoiding kisses, rather craving a hard drink…

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…you always insisted on showing your love, making sure everyone was in sync.

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Beauty sleep and a hairnet was apparently all that you needed…

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…but truly it was your hair ‘dos that always succeeded.

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So it was with glasses and confidence that I superseded…

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…the grace and confidence that you always heeded.

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I wish I would have felt more impeded.

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The Iowa State Fair you never did love,

probably because you couldn’t wear foot gloves.

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It will never be the same, not bringing you a corn dog…

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…and discussing how I ate my way through the fair like a prize-winning hog.

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Circled blacked out dates always meant you had a companion…

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…you always loved attention bigger than the Grand Canyon.

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Attending every homemade Christmas pageant we made…

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…and most likely secretly prayed…

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…that I would never end up a lonely old maid.

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The first to pass of five sisters, who lived out their misters,

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…you loved being pampered more than a fever blister.

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Your nails were painted the day before you passed…

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…and Jell-O shots without you will seem so miscast.

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Regardless of view near or afar, life will never be the same…

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…without you as my shining rock star.

I love you Gma.

Megan

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!

Weekend Winks – ‘Tis the Season

Where's my Cousin Eddie?

Where’s Cousin Eddie when you need him?

Dirty Santa parties are fun. But they’re even more fun when played at work. With booze. Lots of booze.

Why party without booze?

Who would party without this? Who?!

In between Dirty Santa steals, I was honored to take part in my buddy Thing 1’s first ever selfie.

Selfie success!

Selfie success after 1,285 attempts.

Thing 1 fell so in love with the idea of selfies, he kept snapping pictures of us instead of others.

Still selfieing. Can't stop. Won't stop with the selfies.

Can’t stop. Won’t stop with the selfies.

And while we were in selfie heaven, virtual presents started rolling in for yours truly. My fellow cat lady Kimberly and her hubs found a perfect sized flask for all of my needs…

Wonder why they thought of me?

Wonder why they thought of me?

And this cute little starter kit keeps finding its way onto my Facebook page…Pete, Michelle, Mama CBXB and Aunt Crazy Pants have all seen these little faces and thought appropriate for me. Ted would like me to tell you to “go fuck yourself” (his words, not mine) as our hands are full with New Cat.

Purrrfect present for me.

Purrrfect present for me.

One of my besties, Princess Rosebud, (Enchanted Seashells herself!) snail mailed me a prezzie with the best gift tag ever…

And this is why I love her.

And this is why I love her.

My boss and his wife need to get to know me a little better because they gifted me this shit for Christmas…

I wish they knew me better.

Sparkly skull Uggs. I can now die happy.

Speaking of gifting, it was time to shell out my hard-earned $60 for prescription cat food (you know, low maintenance Ted has kitty Celiac’s disease) this weekend and New Cat acted like it was Christmas morning upon seeing the food bin full.

Heaven. See, Ted told you our hands were full with this pussy.

See, Ted told you our hands were full with this pussy.

Bowl full of food.

Bowl full of food but New New still feels the need to eat like a pig at a trough.

As my pussy was stuffing his tuxedo face, my sweet little Iowa niece Princess B was experiencing her first sugar cookie of the season.

Face full of cookie

Face full of cookie.

Meanwhile, her brother Prince B was more interested in climbing ladders.

Climber

Life father, like son.

You wanna know why Nashville is so fun? It’s still ‘small’ enough that you can be out and about and run into peeps you know…like old gal pals from previous jobs.

Iowa girls rock (and we know it).

Iowa girls rock (and we know it).

Speaking of gal pals, it was First Mate’s birthday which most definitely called for some sneaky surprise celebrating (isn’t that the best way?).

Happy birthday First Mate!

Have hats, will party.

Winding the weekend down called for some sexy CBXB lingerie. Being that it’s holiday time and I am in love with everything Griswold family, I slipped into the sexiest t-shirt I could locate…

Slipping into something ultra comfortable.

Yes, please save the neck for me, Clark.

Good thing this little guy could care less what I am wearing, just as long as he can lay on it.

Cuddle buddy

Christmastime cuddles.

Now go slip into something comfy and enjoy the rest of this holiday week.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!