Weekend Winks – Whipped Cream, Women and Wind Downs

Ever try to jam four months of activities into a weekend?  It’s been a hot minute for me but I managed to make the most of the gorgeous Nashville weekend. Starting with a trip to Warner Music to meet up with my friend M.Star.

Developmentally declined.

We were going to see my favorite radio show – Free Beer and Hot Wings that is on daily here in Music City on 102.9 The Buzz. It’s most likely on whatever the best rock station in your city mornings is from 5am – 9am. We hitched a ride over to the Wildhorse Saloon where we (I) sprinted to the meet and greet line.

Being that I have ample experience with artist management and production, I have been through this dog and pony show before. Except I acted like a total fucking fan girl because I have been listening to this show, laughing with these dudes and feel like somehow I am their invisible side kick. They went to shake my hand and I made them hug me instead.

The Free Beer and Hot Wings crew, a sane lady and a crazy ass clown.

After the excitement, M.Star and I went to pose in front of the stage. Except I forgot to include her in the photo.

Dynamic Duo.

Realizing my mistake.

Take three.

Finally a good one.

While my partner decided to feed herself, I headed to the watering hole where I was served a hearty glass of whipped cream because…why not?

Whipped to perfection.

As I guzzled my vodka and side of whipped cream, M.Star could hardly contain her excitement over the comedy of the show taking place.

She loved it.

While she’d had enough at intermission, I went back for more of the creamy goodness and stayed to laugh my ass off.

Saturday came waaaaay to quickly but I was up and at ’em to head downtown in order to participate in the Women’s March 2.0. Naturally, I had crafted a totally appropriate t-shirt.

Power to the Pussy.

Rasta was my sidekick for the day and we walked every inch of downtown, soaking in all of the sun, speakers and signs.

Turns out, over 15,000 peeps made their way to the march.

A few of my closest friends.

And the signs, oh the signs were my favorite part of the day –

My personal favorite of all time – I have no idea from which city it was displayed, nor who captured the photograph but genius nonetheless.

An after party was held at ACME Feed and Seed, with all proceeds benefiting Planned Parenthood. There was a killer line-up including Michelle Branch and the fucking insanely talented Alana Royale. I even met a new bestie, who used to boss an ex-boyfriend of mine around.

New besties.

I kept bitching about how Michelle Branch never sang “A Thousand Miles” (like the time I went to see Alanis Morrissette and she didn’t fucking sing “Ironic”). Turns out, Vanessa Carlton sings the song I was waiting to hear.

I’m a music genius.

While I was ready to call it a night after the show, Rasta wanted to hit downtown, so who was I to say no?

Celebrating the day.

Until I accidentally went to get a drink and stuck my straw up my nose. Then it was time to call it a day.

Night night.

While every bone in my feet ached Sunday, it was well worth it.

Post protest pretty.

After a long soak in a hot bath, it was time to nestle in and ready myself for NFL playoff games.

Yep.

Desperately wanting this shirt prior to Sunday, it was an OK thing I never ordered it after the ass beating the Vikings took from the Eagles.

I snuggled down on the couch with a new buddy, Rocco, who may as well be a gigantic cat – sleeping for a solid two football games.

Naturally, I hated every minute.

Regardless of your political stance or outlook on the current state of affairs in the world, Saturday proved to me that when people from all walks of life come together peacefully, it can really be a positive affirmation – a reminder that one person really can make a difference. If you don’t like something, you can take the initiative and try to implement change. Power to the polls in 2018.

You may or may not see me voting in this giddy up.

Now go get a cup of whipped cream. It makes everything better.

Cheers!

CBXB

My Pussy, the Bitch

Teddy Bear can really be a little bitch sometimes.

Missing man.

Worse than a junior high school girl hitting puberty.

And now that Ted has a partner in crime – New Cat – they can be such little bitches together.

Two times the trouble.

Two times the trouble.

The past few weeks, I might as well be getting up to nurse a fucking newborn because Mr. Bear starts meowing (in which he sounds like a tiny sheep) around 3am.

Then he comes in a little closer to the bed at 3:04 am.

A little louder and just out of arm’s reach at 3:07am.

I put the pillow over my head, turn my sound machine up and all of a sudden my little sheep cat is roaring his head off like a lion.

Fierce.

Fierce.

Then, because he idolizes his big bro, NC starts chiming in and together they sound like a jacked up version of a church choir.

And then bitches about it.

NOT pitch perfect.

When Tedstar first started doing this, I’d get my ass up to coax him back to bed but he wanted to play chase. Such fun every night at 3:13am.  I would go to pick him up and he’d run (for what seemed like his life – I might as well have been threatening to de-claw him with pliers) under the kitchen table. As soon as I’d crouch down by the table, he’d race into the bathroom behind the toilet, and so on…therefore, I started to ignore him.  Because he’s really just seeing if I will get up and give into him, right?

I never ever ever ever ever give in to this face. Ever.

I never ever, ever, ever, ever give in to this face.
Ever.

Well, this bitch means business. So much so, I was considering how to reupholster a section of my vintage sofa that used to belong to my Gma.  As I was getting my beauty sleep amid the white noise of my sound machine (on the highest volume setting) TB was up to no good (with assistance by Mr. Tuxedo, I’m sure).

Teddy Krueger’s version of a temper tantrum.

Of course I couldn’t find the little shits when I discovered this treasure and racked my brain contemplating how to patch this corner (the front, exposed so everyone can see it corner, naturally).  And I came up with a solution that fit right in with my eclectic, budget conscious household. Duct tape.

Leopard duct tape.

Growing up, I my dad taught me that duct tape can fix anything (even your big, fat glasses in 3rd grade. You simply put the duct tape over the piece that snapped off, which in my case was right in the middle, where the glasses sit on one’s nose and pretend as if nothing is wrong. Which is why much to my delight, I was nicknamed Ducky. Kids are so sweet).

Hello Gorgeous

Pre-Ducky break.

In my current case, applying my father’s knowledge, I found leopard duct tape and ‘reupholstered’ the corner of my couch.

Cheapest (and probably cheapest looking) DIY job ever! But it does the trick.

The $4 duct tape fix. Dad’s practical solution!

In reality, Teddy was just trying to help me spruce up my space a tad. Because once he got his claw stuck in the duct tape, he never set his sights on my couch again.

Oh, and those 3am wake up cries? Seems the cats were needing food, as I was forgetting to feed them before bed (guess this would be why I don’t have kids).

So now, I feed the damn pussies at night and all of my furniture has remained in tact.

For now.

CBXB

CBXB!