The Underdog

It’s no secret that I’ve had a rough go in my personal life the last few years. Of course, no one has perfection and bad shit happens to everyone, however, I’ve been numbed to the point that I don’t expect the worst but am surprised by nothing. Nothing.

Martians falling from the sky? We believe you.

It’s also no secret that I love college football – especially my alma mater, the Iowa Hawkeyes.

Fans #1 and #2.

The last day that I can truly say I was ‘in the moment’ was December 5, 2015. I got to experience the first Big Ten Championship with my dad, The Silent Indian (who cheered for the wrong team) and Camo with my Iowa Hawkeyes taking on Sparty of Michigan State.

Big four at the Big Ten game.

It was one of the best days of my life even though Sparty won in the literal last second of the game.

All the after morning feels.

Four days upon returning home from that game, I was pushed out of a career that I’d worked my ass off to obtain in the music business. Eleven days after that, I experienced the worst Christmas of my life – a day I cherish (almost as much as my birthday) due to family dynamics shifting and my unwillingness to accept it. Less than one month later, a woman who was like a little sister to me died in a car accident. That evening, I went to my best friend’s house and was raped by her boyfriend.

That period of time was as beautiful as I look in this photo.

The day I was at the hospital awaiting my rape kit to be performed, I was asked if I’d like an advocate to come sit with me. I didn’t know if I did or didn’t because as my bare ass was hanging out of the back of a hospital gown, I was in a state of shock. An advocate was called on my behalf. Aside from her beyond sweet demeanor, her name being Barbie (I mean, c’mon!), her fabulous Louis Vuitton purse (obvies the right advocate for me), she said something that still rings true to this day.

“There will be a before rape in your life. And there will be an after rape.” A before and after. Seems like a simple enough concept but I did not comprehend then how fucking true this would be in my daily life moving forward.

The Before: last selfie I took before Rapegate.

The After: first selfie taken after Rapegate.

It’s now been 616 days since the saga of Rapegate began. At first it was all-consuming, eating me up – a worm in my brain, invading every moment of my sleep, thoughts, feelings – I had no idea that I might as well have been standing at the bottom of Mount Everest, readying to climb 29,029 feet with zero conditioning. Because that’s what this last year and over a half has dealt…an excruciatingly slow climb out of (or rather up) the lowest of extreme lows, seeking the summit of a mountain top that appeared further and further away by the day.

What happens when I hike.

Thing is, life goes on all around even though time stands still for victims of any sort of trauma. For me, I was stuck on January 29, 2016 but I still had a job to find, bills to pay, fur ball mouths to feed and personal hygiene to maintain (this took much insisting from Mrs. America and my sister). I just wanted to wallow on my leopard couch and have it swallow me whole but of course that didn’t fucking happen.

Not so fresh and so clean clean.

With the support and love from my family, friends, and readers of this blog (my sparkly army), I was encouraged to put one (semi-clean) foot in front of the other and got into counseling. I tirelessly acted as my own advocate with a less than helpful (and that description is extremely nice) detective, found a job, kept my lights on, was diagnosed with PTSD, adjustment disorder and severe stress and stumbled forward.

I don’t wanna but I’m gonna!

Through what felt like a continuous avalanche in my life, I put on the happiest face possible and plowed forward. Although, everything had less meaning, was less fun, was just not right. I went to my fave watering hole Dalts, invited girlfriends over, tried to read books but couldn’t remember the page I just read, watched TV only to forget what the episode was about as my mind couldn’t stay focused, stopped going to yoga and jogging due to not being able to be alone with my thoughts – because the aftermath of Rapegate was never far.

SAY WHAT?

Trying to trudge through life, every step felt like I was moving through snow waist deep. Yet again, life stops for no one. Aunt Crazy Pants was diagnosed with terminal cancer almost six months to the day after I was raped. She passed just a little over a month ago, ten days after I suddenly lost the fur ball love of my life, Ted. The searing losses felt like a hot iron had been stabbed into my chest. I’d never experienced the throes of despair (navigating my way out of Rapegate), alongside devastating, life altering grief (losing those we deeply love) at the same time.

There’s not enough wine for this.

While I was home for ACP’s celebration of life, I had an opportunity to go tailgating with my Uncle Toddy, Aunt Crispie, my cousins and their many friends at the in state rivalry of Iowa versus Iowa State. It was a thrillingly unexpected day jam-packed with tailgating shenanigans.

The fun of family…

Mama CBXB, Uncle Toddy and Aunt Crispie host tailgating done right.

Friendly family rivalry.

OR WAS IT?!

The fun of the endless booze all around…

I hate tailgating.

The classiness of passing time while waiting to use the port-a-potties…

Shotski for three please.

The catching up with old friends…

Game ready.

Having to ask your uncle if there’s anyone he’s friends with in his season ticket section just in case I embarrass him with my loudness…

A beauty and a sparkly beast.

Embarrassing my youngest cousin with all the right moves…

Cousin love is acceptable below the Mason Dixon line.

Seeing a live marching band was fulfilled for the season…

March on.

Up close and personal for the live action overtime win didn’t suck!

End zone win baby!

Afterward, I realized how much fucking fun I truly had that day. I lived in the moment for the first time in almost two years – at yet another football game. I didn’t think about anything other than what I was partaking in every. single. second. The bands marching through the tailgates. The booze. The Hawkeye buses arriving. The booze. The food. The booze. The rivalry. The family and friends I was enjoying the fuck out of spending time with. The game I got to watch from the end zone and the exciting win by the Hawks in overtime.

Some cousins took it well.

Others were sore losers.

Point is, for a brief day I got a taste of what it will be like when I transfer from survivor to thriver. I felt normal. I felt the fun I was experiencing. I felt like pre-rape me for once in almost two years. And it was fucking fantastic, freeing and I caught a glimpse of my old self starting to shine through the cracks I still carry.

Fist forward.

The Hawkeyes are almost always considered the underdogs. And it’s not lost on me that both the last and first time I realized I was living in the moment were at football games, watching my favorite team with some of my favorite people.

It was a much needed reminder that I’m doing the best that I can every goddamn day. Aren’t we all?

Happy tailgating!

CBXB

In Heaven There is No Beer…

It’s the most wonderful time of the year (aside from my birthday, Ted’s birthday, Christmas and the Iowa State Fair)!

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The white trash classiness that is my life continues as another season of college football kicks off this weekend!

My dad and I started a tradition a few years ago to celebrate every touchdown that our favorite college football team, the Iowa Hawkeyes, scored with a shot of moonshine (this way no matter what the outcome of the game, you can have fun – even if your team sucks – which is how this lovely tradition began. Unless they score nothing of course, and if that’s the case, get a new team).

First shot of the season.

First shot of the season feels so good!

Our freezer stash of Popcorn Sutton’s Tennessee White Whiskey is prepped and ready to go for the season opener.

Iced

Chic shenanigans await.

Problem is this year, Dada CBXB is heading up to see my fave duo on the planet as I type, so we’ll have to resort to our trashtacular tradition via Facetime, which we’ve already mastered in years past.

Miles schmiles.

Miles schmiles.

Being that the Hawks were 12-0 in the regular season last year, we hope our liver tolerance remains in tact for alcohol that makes chest hair grow whether you like it or not. While we’ll be celebrating apart, we have everything we need to round out the first college game day.

Double fisting at its finest.

Double fisting at its finest.

W-I-N.

Who’s with us?

CBXB

CBXB!

The Perfection of Stinky Roses

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Iowa is not a word many folks associate with perfection (unless, of course, you’re me and think everything about the damn state is pretty spot on with being mistaken for heaven as Kevin Costner so kindly did in his 1989 movie).

However, perfection touched the state I hold so dear to my heart in a way that before 2015 was unimaginable. My Iowa Hawkeyes had a perfect – yes I said perfect – regular college football season. The Hawks are typically mediocre (but full of heart!), and us fans were just hoping for a winning season to get to a bowl game. So you can imagine our surprise when our team kept winning game after game after game….after game (and we kept doing shot after shot after shot…).

Our livers love us.

Our livers love us.

Our perfect record granted the Hawks a slot in the Big Ten Championship game held in Indianapolis, so you bet your ass our classy clan was there.  It was going to be an especially fun game, as my buddy The Silent Indian is a Michigan State Spartan fan – the team Iowa was up against.

An unbiased Camo, The Silent Spartan Indian, Dada CBXB and some drunk Iowa cheerleader.

Because I’m psycho (and also an asshole), I made our foursome leave Nashville at 3:30 am so our arrival to Indianapolis would be in conjunction with my Saturday morning staple College Game Day – who was finally broadcasting live from an Iowa game.

Worth it.

Running to secure a spot. The only exercise my body received all fall.

Sunglasses hide early morning sins.

Sunglasses hide early morning sins.

One of my favorite things about College Game Day are the signs fans make in hopes of making it to the broadcast. And these fans didn’t disappoint.

The Silent Indian left speechless.

The Silent Indian left speechless.

Truth

Truth

Even Tay knows a thing or two about the lack of respect given to the Hawks.

Even Tay knows a thing or two about the lack of respect given to the Hawks.

The Silent Indian and yours truly snuck our way up into the fourth row, so I could get a better look at my 81-year-old commentator boyfriend, Lee Corso.

A Hawkeye and a Spartan friends...for now.

A Hawkeye and a Spartan – friends…for now.

We also became famous for .00001 second during the broadcast.

Famous. Obvi.

Blink and you missed it.

After standing for four solid hours in freezing temps (I’d still be standing there if I could be), we headed into warm up next door with my boyfriend Captain Morgan at a party sponsored by my favorite rum.

My boyfriend, his girlfriend and me.

My boyfriend, his girlfriend and me.

We had no fun.

We had no fun.

After the Captain shenanigans, it was time to take our seats and watch one helluva heartbreaker as Iowa lost in the last seconds of the game.

Time.

A fabulous view of a tough loss.

The Gloating Indian

The Gloating Indian. Yes, we let him stay and watch the Spartans get their trophy. Sometimes I have a heart.

Aren’t you glad this wasn’t your four-hour ride home with a sore loser?

FullSizeRender_2

No explanation needed.

So Iowa loses one game post season but do you know where that got us in the line-up of bowl games?

For the first time in 25 years, the Iowa Hawkeyes were going to grace Pasadena, CA with their presence at The Rose Bowl against the Stanford Cardinals.

HELL YEAH BABY!

HELL YEAH BABY!

And while the richer Iowa fans with jobs swarmed the fuck out of California, my unemployed ass  hosted a game watch at the mini manse on New Year’s Day.

Who needs Cali when I had a green carpet for a step and repeat?

Who needs Cali when I had a green carpet for a step and repeat?

Booze at the ready.

Booze at the ready.

Tailgating treats galore.

Tailgating treats galore.

Mascots in their best giddy up.

Mascots in their best giddy up.

Front row seats acquired.

Front row seats acquired.

There was just one teeny, weeny tiny problem. My Iowa Hawkeyes apparently left all of their motivation in 2015. It was 21-0 before the end of the first quarter and we were left with empty shot glasses in our hands. So we did the next best thing.

Sympathy shot.

A sympathy shot.

And then there was sympathy shot number three.

Thank God someone was keeping track.

Thank God someone was keeping track.

Followed by sympathy shots four and five…

Thank god my jazz hand also communicates the number of shot we're on.

Jazz hands for the number of shot taking!

After a very dismal final score of Stanford 45, Iowa 16, I laid down on the green carpet for a well deserved tantrum.

Tantrum

I wanted to win dammit!

Dada CBXB tried to join me but found the ground was too far for him to reach, therefore conducted his tantrum on all fours.

As far as he goes.

Losing at its finest.

While the post season games for my Hawkeyes didn’t come out with wins, I couldn’t be more proud of the team, my favorite coach on the planet, Kirk Ferentz, and the fans who are tried and true season after season.  For all of the haters who are going to lecture me on our lack of a tough schedule, mediocre players and how the Big Ten Conference is weak, you can go fuck yourselves.  I love the fact that most of the Hawkeyes are from the Midwest, many walking on from small Iowa towns (although I also love the fact our quarterback is from Nashville!), going on to become great college football players and going on to play in the NFL. I love the fact that Coach Ferentz will make a stand out player miss an entire quarter of an important game because he was late to practice (please don’t do that again Desmond King –  you’re my favorite player and THANK YOU for coming back for your senior year!).  And I love that there typically no more than a total of eight four star prospects on the entire roster, making us always seem like somewhat of a Cinderella team.

Thank you to the Iowa Hawkeye football team for putting some much needed pep in my 2015 step. Your two biggest fans can’t wait until September!

We're still your number one fans.

We’re still your number one fans.

Until then, we’ll be drinking moonshine shots every time the Iowa Hawkeye basketball team sinks a bucket to keep our livers in tact for next football season.

Just kidding!

Or am I…?

Cheers!

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Ghostbusters, Rockstars and Star Wars

Oh Halloween.

How I love the kick off to a long-awaited holiday season, especially when it falls on a weekend.  Oftentimes as a kid, I had multiple costumes for different Halloween parties (the horror of wearing the same thing twice), so I followed my own tradition and mixed it up this year.

Stay Puft mania!

Stay Puft Marshmallow man mania!

My costume was so on point that the TV show The Goldbergs tried to bring back the beloved ’80s Ghostbusters characters only to fail.

Suck it Goldbergs!

Suck it Goldbergs!

As you can see, our group dominated this category. And we did our own costuming.

Ghostbusters

Ghostbusters done right.

Another Halloween scene called for more comfortable attire, as my crew was going to see a show and I didn’t really want to sweat (let’s be real, I don’t sweat, I glisten) to death (plus, I wanted to pee and the Stay Puft outfit makes you hold it for however long you’re wearing it).

Rock Trio

Lenny Kravitz, Alice Cooper and Kid Rock.

Not to be left out, my fave little chug (chihuahua + pug mix) Precious was an adorable little ladybug.

Ladybug

Most precious lady beetle ever.

Those Iowa twins of mine? They’re obsessed with Star Wars (as all kids I know have been except yours truly…I still don’t get it but whatever).

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Yes I know. The cutest fucking Princess Leia and Yoda you’ve ever seen.

Seeing how excited the twins were over their costumes, I decided Ted and I would stay in the same family of sorts and dress up as galaxy characters as well.

PastedGraphic-1

October 31st happened to not only be the day of candy collecting but also a game day for my beloved Iowa Hawkeyes, who have yet to lose a game and are ranked #10 in the nation (yeah, that’s right!).  My team was geared up to keep their record pristine against the Maryland Terps (turtles, in case you didn’t know what a terp was because I didn’t know).

Trick or Treat

Ghoulish game day treats.

Teddy Back Bear

Teddy Back Bear enjoying some ribs while still trying to put weight on after his bought with illness.

So….with all of that being said, our touchdown tradition carried on in great force on Saturday!

TD 1

Touchdown celebration #1!

TD 2

Celebration shot #2!

TD 3

Third touchdown is a charm!

Victory

Victory is sweet!

Now one of my blogging besties, Mark Bialczak is a fellow Big Ten fan, who cheers on his Maryland Terps. Last year, we had a bet that whomever’s team lost must be featured on the winner’s blog and ….. here he is in all of his loser glory this year!

Terp stew.

A Terp loss means a bottle of wine is needed.

Kinda feeling bad...but let's be real. The Hawks have sucked for years and the T

But how bad do we feel that his other team was the Mets?!

The celebration carried on to my fave Nashville watering hole, Dalts.

Skinny Pirates are my treat!

Skinny Pirates are a treat to my tricks!

Isn’t the day after Halloween the best when you are tallying up your treats?

Loot Round Up

Princess B laying out her line up.

You know my twins Clark and Cousin Eddie are still hanging with Gpa CBXB as Ted is still in weight gaining mode.

Cuddles

A belly big enough for two.

Ted was exhausted from all of the weekend shenanigans (of course) so he made it beyond difficult to do anything the rest of the weekend.

So I didn’t do shit.

Snoozefest

Snoozefest 2015.

Here’s hoping you are recovered from any kind of sugar overdose you may have encountered.

Cheers!

CBXB

 

Weekend Winks – Shots, a Chug and Bachelorette Fun

Just your typical Saturday night.

Just a typical Saturday night at my mini manse.

Ending the week right, the chug Precious and I were able to go and get gussied up at my fave Nashville salon Trumps.

Primping up with puppy.

Primping with puppy.

Precious

One of the two of us really is precious and I’ll let you guess who.

Knowing that I like to take a fur baby everywhere and following in her Auntie CBXB’s footsteps, Princess B went to Build-a-Bear and created a cat (naturally).  When it came time to give her new feline a moniker, apparently Princess B inherited my creative juices and went with the highly innovative choice of “Pet” (almost as clever as my beloved pussy’s name New Cat).

Princess B and her cleverly named kitty, Pet.

A princess and her pet.

Ditching the dog, I headed to a lunch in celebration of a fine young lady and her upcoming nuptials.

Ladies who lunch.

Ladies who lunch.

No celebration is complete without jazz hands, ya dig?

A bride-to-be with class and a lady that’s white trash.

Did you guys know that Elsa from Frozen has a twin who is also named Elsa? Well, it’s true. And they live in Iowa and are related to me.

Elsa loves to read.

Elsas loves to read.

Prince of Star Wars

I imagine Prince Elsa will one day want to kill me for posting this photo.

If it’s a football Saturday in September, you can bet your ass it’s Iowa Hawkeye tailgate time!

Iowa girls can't help it.

Iowa girls can’t help it.

With the kitchen pretty much prepped and ready to go, the only thing left to do was flip the TV to the right channel.

Booze

Booze, booze and more booze.

Cruising to the channel, the guide listed an either/or scenario. My game, Iowa vs. PITT or Penn State vs. Maryland. Now, I pay extra money to get the Big Ten Network through Comcast, (my stupid fucking cable provider that I’m dying to leave – hurry up Google Fiber!) and you’d think they’d provide an alternative network when two games in the same division are to be played at the same time to please viewers.

No such luck.

FUCK Comcast.

FUCK Comcast.

After precisely 92 minutes on the phone, asking the customer service rep which game they’ll be showing (reps don’t have that information (WTF?), so we had to wait until kick-off), I was told I could view on my laptop and if I could wait, they’d give me a password.

So we waited….

…and waited….

…and did a shot while we waited….

Stress shot.

We hate drinking.

And FINALLY! We got the small screen up and going with our Hawkeye game in the second quarter.

Might as well be Buffalo Wild Wings.

Might as well be Buffalo Wild Wings with this set up.

Once the game was on, we had some catching up to do and got to our trashy tradition of moonshine shots after every touchdown.

Touchdown!

Shot #1

Shot #3

Shot #2

Shot #3

Shot #3

In the final two seconds of the game, the score was tied and our field goal kicker (my new hero) hit a 57 yard field gold for the win. I’m pretty sure my entire apartment complex thought there was a party of 60 in the mini manse as we carried on like we’d just won a million dollar lottery.

Shot #4 for the W!

Celebration shot #4 for the W!

The rest of the evening went as follows…

Whoops.

Whoops.

So you can imagine that Sunday went a little something like this with my main squeeze, Ted.

Sunday started like this.

Start.

Sunday ended like this.

Finish.

Here’s hoping your week is off to one fabulous start!

Fuck Comcast.

CBXB

CBXB!

 

Trashtacular Family Tradition

The white trash classiness that is my life continues as another season of college football kicked off last week.

My dad and I started a tradition a few years ago to celebrate every touchdown that our favorite college football team, the Iowa Hawkeyes, scored with a shot of moonshine (this way no matter what the outcome of the game, you can have fun – even if your team sucks – which is how this lovely tradition began. Unless they score nothing of course, and if that’s the case, get a new team).

First shot of the season.

First shot of the season feels so good!

Naturally, you can’t do shots of moonshine without something to coat the belly first, so we had our finest tailgating treats out before the 11am kickoff.

Finger lickin' good.

Yes, that’s my blogfamous Shit Dip and you should really try it this weekend.

Our freezer stash of Popcorn Sutton’s Tennessee White Whiskey was prepped and ready to go for the season opener.

Iced

Chic shenanigans await.

Much to our delight, Iowa scored on the opening drive of the game, which meant moonshine was downed at precisely 11:11am on a Saturday morning.

Touchdown Iowa!

Touchdown Iowa!

The second Hawkeyes score of the game came just before noon and we decided it best to flaunt which shot we were on with our digits.

Double the fun!

Double the fun!

In the third quarter, Iowa snuck in another touchdown making the score 24-0, which didn’t disappoint us – although it did make trying to do a selfie with three fingers in the air a tad difficult – but somehow we pulled through.

Triple threat.

Triple threat.

While Iowa let our opponents score twice, we answered with a fourth touchdown, making the final score 31-14.

Waaay funner by the fourth.

Waaay funner by the fourth.

You’d think it was lights out after a four moonshine shot victory but over the last few football seasons we’ve gained quite the tolerance for alcohol that makes chest hair grow whether you like it or not. So, thankfully we had plenty more of everything needed to round out the first college game day.

Double fisting at its finest.

Double fisting at its finest.

And the countdown for next week is on.

Who’s with us?

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Spanked

Losers Lane

Caution: losers ahead.

Friday started out simply fabulous with a chili cook-off at work. Being that I’m not much of a kitchen connoisseur, I opted to be a judge.

Chili

Eeny, meeny, miny….

Afterward it was time to go and prep for my dad’s birthday with assistance from my favorite pussy, of course.

Dad's birthday

What fun would wrapping be without a big fur ball in the way?

Meanwhile in Iowa, my twins were busy making their very first homemade pizza.

Pizza. Pizza.

Perfectly placing the sauce for Prince B.

Just. can't. wait.

While Princess B just. couldn’t. wait.

And the reactions to the ooey gooey goodness were cheesier than the cheese on their pizzas.

Cheeser.

Happy pizza lover.

Not only was Saturday my dad’s birthday, it was also an Iowa Hawkeye game day.  My dad was so excited, he grew black and yellow hair overnight.

Jazz hands for celebrating and football

Two events in one day calls for jazz hands.

Birthday bonanza

Birthday bonanza spread.

Being that my Hawks won big last week, I expected no less this week as Iowa scored first and we happily stuck to our moonshine touchdown tradition.

Shot #1 was the only one done.

Who knew we’d basically be one and done?

Little did we know, those seven points would be the only time Iowa would touch the scoreboard until the end very of the game. So to make things more interesting while watching our team get spanked, we celebrated a birthday…

Stud's birthday

Double fisting gifts.

….we stuffed our faces with my dad’s self proclaimed “best batch of ribs ever”….

Best batch ever.

They tasted as good as they looked.

… I whipped out the Whopper pie I make every year in honor of Dad growing one year older…

One whopper of an annual pie.

My mix and freeze with ease pie.

… and we did sympathy/birthday/just because shots, as losing a game as badly as we did (14-51) to a mediocre team at best is no fun sober.

Sympathy shots

Another round of ‘shine, please!

While no sports fan wants to see their team to get their own asses handed to them, at least we were having some fun.

Loser Labe

Laughing losers.

Here’s hoping your week is off to a more winning start than mine.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!