The Bun of Steel

Who doesn’t not wash their hair for almost two weeks?

Anyone? Anyone?

Whenever I go see my fabulous stylist, I relish the wine, the time, the wine and the way I shine when I leave the salon. Upon my arrival, the desk dude always says to my stylist, “China, your bull has arrived.” Wonder why?

Hot head.

After getting pink nestled in my locks, I wait as long as possible to wash my hair, letting the dye really sink in. Typically I will get my hair colored on a Wednesday or Thursday night so I have the weekend to wear my hair up, washing my mane on Monday morning.

The day after my dye job.

This time was no different, except I overslept on Monday and didn’t have time to wash my hair, so I threw it up in a bun.

At this point, I was on day five with no shampoo touching my scalp.

After work, I went to hot yoga and got extremely sweaty. Normally, the bun doesn’t hold up through class but somehow this time, it did.

Hot bun.

I took a bath when I got home, leaving the bun in place, planning to take it down Tuesday morning. But when I woke up…it looked fresh out of the oven done. So, I left it in – again. I hit up the park after work for a long walk, fully planning on sudsing my locks afterward. But…

Welp, whether you think it’s gross or not…

That made it an entire seven days with not washing my hair. And, I got lazy on Wednesday night with no working out, therefore, the bun survived with another evening. (And when I say survived, I mean I’m doing nothing to it except loading it with more hairspray every day. I’m not taking it down and putting it back up.) So Thursday, my bun and I made our eighth appearance together.

By this point, if you follow me on Instagram, this was the hot topic in my stories. It had been referred to as Bungate, I was told that I was turning into one of those old church ladies who only has her hair ‘set’ once per week, leaves it in an updo until my next beauty shop appointment. One wire pick away from Grandmaville…

Especially when I announced my now disgustingly beloved bun was on its fifth day of perfection.

My direct messages were nothing short of hysterical upon my posting of day five with the bun.

My bald friend across the pond even joined in on the fun making a bow bun for himself.

Since it was Friday, I thought fuck it, I will just wash it tomorrow and had some Skinny Pirates with what was now basically my Siamese twin.

Skinny buns.

Waking up to bun perfection on Saturday, I went to the park to walk…maybe jog.

Run or walk?

When I posed the run or walk scenario on my stories, I got the most important response.

I heeded the advice given to me and walked. Then I headed out to Dada CBXB’s for a Hawkeye game watch. Problem was, I needed to stop at my mothership, Target on the way and IT WAS RAINING.

With no shame in my game, I raced into run my errands and then arrived in time for kick-off. While watching the game, Cousin Eddie, one of my dad’s cats (that naturally I gave to him), took great interest in the knot on my head. Ed loves hair and heads (like he sleeps on my head when I stay there), so I was fairly certain it would be bye-bye bun.

Bun thwarter.

But he was willing to wait until after the game. However, Dada CBXB tried to smush the bun with a helmet during one of our Family Tradition touchdown shots.

Helmet head.

The bun survived both threats.

I woke up on Sunday like this…

Upon leaving heavy-handed from Dada CBXB’s, I took great precaution again, putting my makeshift grandma hair net on before setting out into the rainy day.

Bags, bowls and a protected bun.

Buns anonymous, here I come. Because the goddamn thing was still in on Monday morning.

Thankfully.

Wondering if I washed it before work? You bet your ass I didn’t. Although by this point, I was having to carry around my envelope opener to itch the inside of my bun because it was beyond scratchy. Also, I used about half a bottle of perfume, just dousing my top knot in it daily to avoid looks from others due to the greasy fumes that were emanating from my head.

Monday night, I again went to yoga…and the next morning…

So adorbs. It felt like ten year old plastic Barbie hair to the touch.

Sexy Plastic and I know it.

The back of my head was a different story…

Cat’s nest.

After an hour long shower, four shampoo cycles, and one deep conditioner left on for 20 minutes, I was good to go. So much so, I thought about calling Suave and offering to be a hair model for the day.

The exquisitely preserved pink.

I don’t think that old saying, “one must suffer to be beautiful,” really applies to my situation but I’m going to pretend that’s why I waited so long to end Bungate.

Now I’m off, being too busy washing my hair to do anything else. Then, I’ll start working on my next bun of steel.

CBXB

 

Shitter’s Full

So…it appears that naming my new twin fur babies after my favorite Griswold characters has come back to bite me in the ass.

Clark and Cousin Eddie buttering me up.

Upon bringing the twins home to my mini manse, I escorted them into the wing they’d be spending much time in – the Pussy Wing.  Within this section of my apartment, all things cat related happen in here. The litter box is behind the green couch, food stored behind the partition, window always available to perch, etc…

A mini manse in a mini manse.

As you may well know (and he most definitely knows), the king of my castle is Mr. Ted E. Bear. Not only does this feline rule my roost non-stop, he has a version of kitty Celiac disease and needs prescription food to get by in life. Which costs a mere $65 per bag and can last one cat two months (which makes me thrilled out of my blonde mind that I now get to feed three mouths premium feline food).

My main squeeze.

Turns out that Clark and Cousin Eddie were beyond thrilled tasting this fine concoction of green peas and duck – so much so they were sucking it down their throats without even chewing.

Classy dudes with the kitty cat caviar.

It also turns out that the Griswolds have touchy digestive systems and this fancy food didn’t bode well with them.

As in, gave them diarrhea.

The squirts.

The runs.

Did you know that when cats have the shits, they don’t use their pan?

Me either.

Facing a literal shit show.

Being that the shade of feces and my carpet matched perfectly, I was able to put my foot in a few piles before I realized what was happening (and I’m sure my neighbors thought I was being murdered due to my overreaction of being touched by liquid dookie).

Trying to remedy this situation before having to burn my mini manse down to get rid of the defecating smells, I put out puppy pads, thinking this would help my sanity.

Fort Diarrhea

Only when my little chug friend Precious saw the puppy pads, she thought she was being ‘good’ by using them.

So now everyone is shitting and pissing on the fucking puppy pads.

How could anyone be mad at this mug?

Thwarting further insult to injury, I tipped the green couch in the Pussy Wing up on end as Cousin Eddie is now sharting (a little piece of shit coming out with a fart) and there have been a few dribbles on the sofa.

Leaning tower of green.

I also lined the sides of the couch with foil because from what I have heard and read online, cats are terrified of the stuff.

Clearly.

Foiled by my feline.

I just had this feeling that no matter how hard I was trying, this shit show version of my life was going to last a bit longer…

And, as Ed molested my head (as he has done nightly since his arrival) last night, I kept thinking that he smelled insanely rank but let it go.

All about the snugs.

Until this morning.

When I woke up still smelling rank ass and found this on my chest from Eddie’s sleeping ass.

Greeting the day by being shit on.

MAKE IT STOP.

So I’m taking the little shits who can’t control their bowel movements to the vet tomorrow and hoping there’s a cure for all things digestive related in these little monsters.

Driving me to drink straight out of the boxed wine bag.

If I’d have known that naming my cats after Griswolds would result in an actual remake of certain scenes from Christmas Vacation, I might have reconsidered.

But until tomorrow the shitter shall remain full.

CBXB

It’s the Liebs, not the Biebs.

That’s right, I’m not talking Justin Bieber I’m talking a Blogster Liebster!

The oh-so-fabulous D-Anna at Style Salvation  and granted sparkly ol’ me with the Liebster Blog Award.  A grand gesture of kindness and by accepting, I must relay five random facts about myself, as well as answering five questions D-Anna has asked yours truly.

Random things by Cowboys and Crossbones…

1) My favorite movie of all time is National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.  My family (we’re so classy!) watches it every year during the holidays and it’s a tradition I anticipate right up there with Santa’s big night.

I mean, what family doesn’t have their very own cousin Eddie?

I love the movie so much that last year, I hosted a Griswolds (hence the Grizzie category on my blog) Family Christmas party.

This is my version of a crying Clark while he’s stuck in the attic and his arch nemesis of a neighbor, Margo.

And speaking of crying, I rarely cry. But when I do – I only have one kind…the ugly cry. The hot mess kind of cry. The what the hell is wrong with her kind of cry.  Once I start, I can’t stop.

Think I need to invest in waterproof mascara?

I have no recollection as to why I was being such a bawl baby, I simply remember how freaking hilarious I looked when I finally stopped long enough to look in a mirror. And of course, had to document the situation. You’re welcome.

3) I am really good at shotgunning a beer (even though I am not supposed to have beer with gluten intolerance issues but I can never refuse a challenge).

Once again beating my cousin Tballs in the annual chugging contest. Classy, I know.

4) One of my favorite Nashville pastimes is honky tonkin’ on Broadway. Robert’s Western World is home of two of the best Nashville bands you can see for free – The Don Kelley Band and the Chris Casello Trio. At Robert’s there is never a cover charge, always a fun crowd and they even feature a Recession Special on the menu – a fried bologna sandwich, chips, a moon pie AND a Pabst Blue Ribbon for $5.

Dancing circles around my dad at Robert’s.

5) Lipstick is the last thing I apply before any show.

Applying the reddest red before a show at the 40 Watt club in Athens, Georgia.

Questions from my nominator, D-Anna:

1. What is your favorite clothing item?

Jeans. Typically tight, as my Gma likes to always point out.

2.  What one thing would make your life better?

A little bit larger mini-manse.

3.  What is your dream job?

Rockstar!

4. What is the quote that best resonates with you?

Treat people the way you want to be treated.

5. If you could steal one person’s style, who would it be?

Gwen Stefani

And now for my passing on the Liebs torch to five very deserving blogs. Drum roll, please….

the lady and the beard

tracy lee karner

misseychelles

celiac and allergy adventures

alyson on the run

The skinny of the rules: The person nominated must answer the 5 questions given by the person who nominated them AND tell 5 random facts about yourself. Then, nominate 5 blogs with under 200 followers, make sure to tell them you nominated them.  Ask the people you nominate 5 questions of your own.

Questions for the CBXB nominees:

1. What is your favorite color and why?

2.  What is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to you?

3.  What is your dream job?

4. What is your favorite time of the day?

5. What is the first thing you would you do if you won the lottery?

And last but not least, don’t forget that it’s the last day to enter for this fabulous deer head!

Click here for details on how to win your very own sparkly deer head that you want SO BAD.

Passin’ on the Liebster fever!

CBXB