Weekend Winks – Wins and Worms

You know when you’re a lady who single-handedly runs a fucking funny farm full of animals inside of her own mini manse that inevitably, someone is going to get sick…and then they all get sick. Because when everyone eats, drinks and shits in the same places it’s germ swapping mania.

Trough of pussies.

Trough of pussies.

So we spent the better half of our weekend at the vet. Why you ask? Because everyone in the goddamned house had worms. FUCKING WORMS. All from our little chug who brought in fleas, which I thought I’d gotten rid of after a dip in the tub and a bomb of the mini manse but apparently, one of the felines got one in their belly and fleas turn in to worms.

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Dip Baby Dip.

You know what’s fun when you have four cats and a dog? Prepping to take stool samples for the vet to examine, Ted’s meds for refills and new pussy paperwork on the three February family additions (yes, I’m my veterinarian’s dream come true).

Just another day in my fabulous life.

Just another day in my fabulous life.

We loaded up (after a 43 minute mad dash for the baby, Elsa Pants, under beds, on the porch, in a kitchen cabinet – although I can’t blame her because she was getting to ride in a box) and were on our way. The two older cats got to stay back and receive topical treatment when I got home – which didn’t go over well with the three in my petmobile.

To the vet we go...

Never a dull moment.

When we finally got to the vet, I realized that my Louis Vuitton (my sixth baby), literally had shit in it because that’s where this blonde thought it was a good place to house the Ziplocs of feces when rounding the fur balls up.

Loaded Louis.

Loaded Louis.

Patient patients.

Patient patients.

Sweet Elsa Pants had no choice but to be patient in her box because she might as well be a greased pig running down a high school hallway during a Senior prank when out and about.

No choice. We have a runner.

We have a runner.

Ted and Elsa took their topical worm treatments like pros. Precious on the other hand, ate her way through 18 pill pockets and STILL didn’t get the pill down.

Do your dogs do this?

Do your dogs do this?

After five attempts with a pill popper, the vet techs (yes, plural) were successful but someone wasn’t thrilled.

Try Me.

The winning weekend news though was that Teddy gained a pound since February (which is fab, since he lost half his body weight last year due to illness).

Bad news is Precious also gained a pound since February.

The worst news is that yours truly has gained 15 pounds in the same time frame.

POUNDS

Trifecta of emotional eaters.

Better news is that my pharmacist still knows how bananas I am over my pussies since I get to renew pet prescriptions at Walgreens.

Still crazy.

Best news is that Elsa Pants forgave quickly.

Elsa

While I was very busy running around after fur balls and excavating worms, my Iowa twins were all gussied up at their first go ’round as wedding participants.

Ring runner and flower girl.

Flower girl and ring runner.

You know they were highly rewarded for their fabulous efforts..

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Turns out, someone takes a little too much after Auntie CBXB in the party department.

Party

Sleeping beauty had one too many slices of cake.

Sunday was spent with Dada CBXB doing what we do best in celebration of Father’s Day.

Day drink!

Day drink!

Here’s hoping your week is off to a worm free, winning start.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

How to Remedy Trashtacular Hair Hell

Ever wake up after a hard night’s sleep, take a gander in the mirror and immediately want to wave a white flag in defeat?

About last night...

About last night…

Surrendering any hope for good lookin’ locks for the day, you know when you show face (or dark roots, rather) in public folks will be talking behind your back about what a trashtacular turn for the worst your looks have taken? How you’re letting yourself go? How you must be broke as the top three inches of your hair are shades darker than the rest of your locks?

There's Something About Mary hair.

“There’s Something About Mary” hair – only greasier.

OK, so I don’t generally go in public decked out like a dork.  But I do often wake up longing for hair that magically grows a light blonde out of my scalp (instead, I have to visit my magician every six weeks) therefore alleviating the need for me to wash my hair every.single.day.  If I miss a shampoo, I look like I have taken Crisco to my roots by noon.

How does one cover up the trashiness growing from her mane?

Here are a few remedies I’ve found work for my hair indiscretions.

#1. The Snooki

Snookie

The Southern version of the Jersey Shore ‘do.

Requirements: two barrettes.

Two barettes

Objects may seem higher in the mirror than in actuality.

This overall style saves me 25 minutes of hair hell in the morning.

#2. The Bang

When I was bitching at work regarding my greasy, grimy mane, a girl turned around and said, “Just wash your bangs in the morning.”

No shit? Being blonde is hard work.

Wash your bangs. Duh.

Full frontal cleanliness.

Requirements: shampoo and blow dryer.  This version of “clean” hair saves me 20 minutes of primping.

#3. The Bret Michaels

Every rose...

Every hair has its thorn…

Requirements: scarf (and no ponytail the day/night before).

Louis Vuitton to the rescue!

Talk dirty to me.

This is an ultimate time saver, as I can truly bounce out of bed, tie a scarf and go (but I have to remember to pack a Sharpie marker in my purse for all of the autographs I’m asked to sign while sporting this style), which saves me 30 minutes of hair agony.

#4. The Bun

This was an accidental oily hair cover-up, as I tossed my locks up in a bun one day at the beach.  But when I realized it would stay put all day, the look was added to my dark root arsenal.

An accidental beach miracle.

An accidental beach miracle.

Requirements: one scrunchie (yes I said a scrunchie – I’m too cheap to buy the bun sponge helper thing. But it doesn’t count as a scrunchie in public if you can’t see it. Ok? OK?!) and bobby pins.

Bun it.

Just dreaming of Jeannie and wishing I could grant wishes.

Behind the bun.

Behind the bun.

This ballerina remedy adds another 15 minutes to my day.

#5. The Hat Trick

Greasy

Can’t tell I’m a slimy mess under the fedora, can you?

This is the simplest remedy of them all. Grab hat. Put on head.

Requirements: any kind of stylish head topper.

Put a cap on it.

Playing hide and seek with the horrific dark roots.

This trick saves me 35 minutes of messing with my tresses.

After all of the five remedies above have been tried and tested over the 42 days between salon visits (minus the nerd look), it’s time to visit my miracle maker.

Preshy

Getting blonder (not smarter) by the second with my precious sidekick, Precious.

My roots breathe a momentary sigh of relief as I let them come out to play in all of their newfound blonde glory.

FullSizeRenderBlonde!

Back to blonde(r) requires celebration, naturally.

If you happen to see me in any of the above states, you’ll know I’m either trying to eek out seven weeks between salon visits or avoiding the hair wash (because I’m hung over, tired from a long weekend, hung over or just plain lazy).

It’s possible you won’t recognize me in all of my “I-swear-I-don’t-live-in-a-house-on-wheels-although-you’d-never-know-it-with-my-three-inches-of-visible-dark-roots” various, incognito giddy ups as you mistake me for Bret Michaels. Or any guest from the Maury Povich show.

Cheers to good hair days!

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Tailgates, Twins and Louis Vuitton

Hawkeye

Still Hawkeyes at heart.

A three day holiday weekend meant it was time to high tail it up to Iowa in order to see the twins, catch a little college football and finish up a birthday celebration.

These two.

Princess and Prince B awaiting my appearance.

Being that we arrived in the wee hours of Saturday morning, 8am tailgating time came a tad early for me. But I was able to rally with a glass of vodka mixed with everyone’s favorite…Capri Sun.

Kid concoction

Can you tell my friends have kids?

Excited to be in Iowa City for the first game of football season, I met up with my college bestie, Whitney Lover  (who has a once-was-white-but-now-it’s-yellow-because-it’s-so-old Whitney Houston t-shirt from the “Greatest Love of All” days that she still sports) and couldn’t wait to get my hands on her little Lady E.

Saturday morning greeting.

One of us is bright eyed and bushy tailed.

Then we headed to see the action at the tailgates with 70,000 of our closest buddies.

Tailgate

Truth.

When it comes to Whitney Lover and myself, we do nothing but up the ante of classiness wherever we go.

Uping the class ante wherever we go.

Classing up the joint with our plastic grocery bag cooler.

Feed me.

Classing it up with food choices…a foot long corn dog and ribeye on a stick.

Nuttious treats.

As well as keeping it nutricious with our classy game day picnic spread.

Watching our Iowa Hawkeyes take in a big W was a fabulous way to kick-off the football season.

But want to know what was more fabulous?

Seeing my boyfriend, Herky the Hawk roaming the streets as I stalked followed him to beg, plead ask for a photo together.  He kindly obliged my request by driving as fast as he could down the street as I tried to throw myself in front of his golf cart.

Herky!

Pretty sure Herky’s  checking my ass out, right? True love.

Naturally a victorious football team AND running into my mascot boy toy called for celebratory bubbles.

Victories taste so good.

Victories taste so good.

The rest of the weekend required partying for my ma’s birthday, as the twins couldn’t be in Nashville on her actual big day. Being that this was a milestone, we brought out the big guns with friends and family joining in on one mother of a gift.

Ooh, really?

Yep. It’s really what the box says it is.

A Louis Vuitton will now be housed among my mama’s other accessories.

Still celerbating that bday

A gift worth celebrating!

And mom had a wee bit of trouble taking her new bag back to Nashville, as Princess B wasn’t about it let it out of her sight.

Yep. She's for sure my niece.

Yep. She’s for sure my niece.

Capping the holiday weekend out with one last cocktail took all of these ingredients…

Adios.

An Adios Motherfucker is an appropriate way to wave goodbye to summer, yes?

Cheers!

We sure thought so.

Adios!

CBXB

CBXB!

Confessions of a Shopaholic

The fabulous Marisa from Wear Your Vitamins tagged me in Confessions of a Shopaholic, which is a fun little cyber game of tag.

So here we go…

Do you consider yourself a shopaholic?

Oh hells to tha yes! While I lack the dough to be a bona-fide shopaholic, I love digging for a bargain on sales racks, TJ Maxx, Target and mostly my favorite department store ever, Von Maur.

Shopping the sales rack success!

Success shopping the sales rack!

How would you classify your style?

Fuchsia. Sequins. Skulls. Leopard. Gaudy. Flamboyant. Rocker. Edgy. Jeans. Heels. Flashy, not trashy (although others would probably BEG to differ).

Girls night out attire.

Girls night out attire. Express jeans, $19.99. Target top, $17.99.

Juicy Couture collared striped shirt, $34.99. Skull and crossbones patch purchased at Michael's, $2.99. You don't have to be a sewing expert to adhere spice up your wardrobe. The patch shown is an iron on and takes less than five minutes to complete!

Juicy Couture collared striped shirt, $34.99. Skull and crossbones patch purchased at Michael’s, $2.99.

Who's afraid of a sequin pant? Not me!

Who’s afraid of a sequin pant? Not me! Express pant, $24.99.

Leopard 'n' Shine

Leopard print beneath clear sequins? Um, yes please! Target dress, $34.99.

What store can you not leave without buying something from?

Target. Hands down. Whether it’s shampoo, a greeting card, a Mossimo black tank (a staple in my wardrobe) or a banana. I rarely leave without a bag (which is really doing me a favor because I need plastic bags in order to scoop Ted’s litter pan. Two birds, one stone people!).

Where do you find your best deals?

Sales, sales, sales! Macy’s, Target, Von Maur, TJ Maxx, Dillards semi-annual shoe sale.

What designer are you willing to splurge on?

It’s a three-way between Alexander McQueen, Chanel and Louis Vuitton. McQ is all about the skulls baby (I feel like the designs were sometimes created with yours truly in mind – as if). I also crave the luxury and glamour of Chanel – and received a pair of booties from my fairy god mother earlier this year (read about it, click here). And Louis…oh Louis….I ran a marathon (yes a full fucking 26.2 miles) in a bet to obtain a Louis Vuitton purse (that saga will be posted another day).

In all of their black and white patent leather shine.

Caution: May cause an extreme strut.

Do you have a go-to shopping outfit?

Jeans. Always. In the winter, my kick-ass Coach motorcycle boots (waaaaay expensive but have worn approximately 268 days per year for the last five years. Worth it!). Summer time calls for Tory Burch flops (I scored at a deep discount shoe store).

In lieu of the old fashioned shit kickers, I've opted for "I think I can kick your ass" motorcycle boots.

My alternative shit kickers.

Look cute while side stepping the pig manure!

Tory Burch flip flops, $29.99.

What is your guilty pleasure?!

I’m a beauty product whore. I love trying new things – different colored lipsticks (love MAC pigments), eye shadows (Urban Decay is my fave brand), lip gloss (just found my new love that doubles as a lip stain as well as a gloss – LIP TAR), foundations (Too Faced BB Cream is my new fave and I adore Make Up For Ever HD foundation), nail polish (OPI, China Glaze are my faves)….this list could go on for days.

LIP TAR. 100% Vegan, cruelty free and one application lasts all day. Sephora,

LIP TAR. 100% vegan, cruelty free and one application lasts all day. Sold in sets or separately at Sephora.

hd foundation

Make Up For Ever HD foundation – complexion saver!

What is the one piece of clothing you can’t live without?

Jeans. Period.

Of course leopard jeans never hurt.

Of course leopard jeans never hurt.

Who is your style icon?

Gwen Stefani – love her L.A.M.B. line.

L.A.M.B. leather wrist watch purchased years ago at TJ Maxx for $89.99.

So there are my confessions. Guilty as charged!

CBXB

CBXB!