Weekend Winks – Christmas in Retrograde

Anybody else’s life been feeling slightly off lately?*

*slightly off for me is the understatement of the fucking century but you get what I’m saying.

Ever heard of Mercury in Retrograde? I have but I thought it only had meaning for those who comprehended astronomy or astrology (neither of which I have any sliver of understanding). I mean it involves a planet and a fancy word that means backward so what the fuck would I know about it?

The Farmers’ Almanac explains, “Retrograde is when a planet appears to go backward in its orbit, as viewed from Earth. Astronomers refer to this as “apparent retrograde motion,” because it is an optical illusion.” According to Horoscope.com, it may be an optical illusion BUT “when Mercury is in retrograde, technology, communication, travel, logic, and information all get disrupted.” Ah. I see.

It is an explanation as to why life is a shit show for periods of time (if you’re looking for an excuse and I am always looking for an excuse for the complications in life no matter how minor).

Apparently, this shit happens a few times a year (it’s over August 2 but starts again on October 31 – be prepared for a freak show of a Halloween!). During this ass backward Mercury rotation, I have had a car tire almost fall off due to negligence during my last tire rotation (one lug nut was holding the tire on – there are supposed to be five), ruined an entire work outfit due to white paint around the Mini Manse door that didn’t have a fucking ‘wet paint’ sign, discovered mold in my kitchen cupboard above the stove (which we all know doesn’t get used so what the actual fuck?), found mushy, rotten wood is holding my patio doors together – barely (been 30 days and counting for maintenance), and these are just small examples. Could it be worse? Fuck yes.

Me. Until Mercury exits retrograde.

Speaking of could it be any worse, Podunk has really had a fucking bout with this spin of the planet.

Instead of sandwiched between two blondes, it was marble.

She had a bundle of marble fall on her and sustained four broken ribs, a torn spleen accompanied by internal bleeding, a bruised liver, a partially collapsed lung and a contusion on her arm.

Please send my gal all of the good juju you have for fast and proper healing of her injuries. I’m doing that, as well as hoping she has some leftover feel good meds to share.

I was so excited to see the end of the week I couldn’t get my ass in bubbles quickly enough Friday. I stayed in the tub nearly three hours after work.

Yes, I use every single product you see in this photo.

Prince B has had zero problems with this Mercury bullshit. In fact, he celebrated his Ninjaversary on Saturday. Not familiar with that holiday? It’s when you have an anniversary for ninja class. Duh.

The two faces of Prince B.

What’s a celebration without cake? Chocolate cake with lemon frosting to be exact.

Sweet ninja.

And of course, it’s not a celebration without balloons and matching party accessories.

Par-tay done right.

Always a prince and princess to me.

While Prince B was kicking serious ninja butt, I was trying to keep my legs attached to my body at a spin cycle class. I may have come in last place on the scoreboard but goddamnit I showed up.

What my shirt says.

Wondering about my ever growing gaggle of pussies? Welp, I trapped, spayed, neutered and released two adult cats. When I finally caught the third adult cat and took her in for surgery, she’d already had another batch of kittens. Please be aware of the adorableness below.

Beyond.

There are three kittens total that I’m going to catch and have spayed/neutered. Anybody want one?

The photo below gives me multiplying chills just like Danny in Grease.

Family tradition on the horizon baby!

Longtime friends passed through town and we had a pool party Saturday. I really made quite the impression on their youngster (surprise).

“Dad, she drinks more wine than you.”

I also got to see Uncle Toddy and Aunt Crispie as they made their way through Music City two weekends in a row. They really love posing for photos with me.

There’s always that one asshole in the family.

Keeping it cool on National Ice Cream day were the royal members of our family.

Ice cream dreams.

They’re always loved the cold stuff.

About to scream for their ice cream.

I wasn’t as excited over frozen dairy as I was the Hallmark Movie Channel marathon of Christmas movies. Why? Because Christmas in July. Duh.

Merry Christmas.

July decor in tact on the year round Celebration tree.

The pussies thought I’d lost my ever loving fucking mind (this tends to happen quite often).

The fuck is she doing now?

They got used to taking turns cuddling during the massive cheesiness in the Mini Manse living room for 16 hours straight.

Heavy rotation of pussies. Thank gawd there’s five of them.

I’m not mad about it.

This week, my ass is going to be planted on my leopard couch, adorned in my Gpa’s 45-year-old robe, along with my sequin Santa hat and rosé. Always, always rosé (during the week).

Suck it Reverse Mercury!

Aside from that, my excuse for anything that goes sideways before August 2 is Mercury in Retrograde. Please feel free to use it for yourself, too. You’re welcome.

Superhero Sheila can’t wait for my session this week.

Merry Retrograde!

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Sparkly Seasonal Style

Shoe shopping, snoozing, and a sparkly pink Christmas tree accompanied by a little Whitney Houston rounded out my Nashville shenanigans this past weekend.

Leopard and zebra print go hand in hand, yes?

Friday night found the mall screaming my name and while there I fell in lust with sparkly, leopard print wedge sandals.  Pretty sure these were going to find a home on a shelf in my shoe closet, I still needed to give them a test walk. Problem was my skinny jeans were so tight that I couldn’t pull my knee-high socks off, which resulted in a look that will surely become the fashionable rage this winter season.

Hello fabulous.

Single-handedly starting a new trend.

As I pranced up and down the aisles, I came across a rather exhausted dad who was hogging the bench where I needed to rest my weary ass.

Snooze fest.

Teenage daughters are draining.

Gift with purchase

Gift with purchase? No thanks.

Since there was no room at the Shoe Snoozing Inn, I high tailed it to the nearest restaurant to rest my weary paws. Which of course included cocktails (how can one possibly rest without libations?).

Nashville’s most beautiful thirst quencher.

Ted and I were able to be lazy on Saturday morning, as we had no Hawkeye football to look forward to due to a bye week, although he was seriously underwhelmed by my computer’s presence in bed.

No emails, please.

Handy assistant snuggled down with emails.

My bestie from college has a rather unhealthy adoration of a Whitney Houston t-shirt. She wore this white top acquired from a concert in her youth so much, it appeared dingy gray when I first met her forever ago.

Oh Whitney

A once white Whitney t-shirt that’s now vintage…most likely causing Ms. Houston to roll over in her grave.

Said Whitney lover just had a gorgeous princess a few months back and much to my delight on Saturday, I received a pic confirming that the “Greatest Love of All” singer would be adored by the next generation.

Wanna dance

Like mother, like daughter … forced by mother.

Mr. Bear was able to move from the bed to his Pussy Palace where he thought the day would pass along quietly. And he was sorely mistaken.

lazy

Hanging out in the PP…literally.

What does a non-moonshine, football-less (i.e. no Iowa Hawkeyes or Tennessee Titans games) weekend mean for CBXB? Putting up the Christmas tree of course (what all normal gals do with their cat on a Saturday evening in November, right? And for all of you folks who are groaning that it’s not even Thanksgiving yet, just chill). And Teddy had to inspect every. single. aspect. of this activity.

Every nook

Every nook of the box.

And every cranny

And every cranny of the lid.

Tedstar immediately took a front row seat to the festivities and refused to move, as I tried to construct the 6′ pink tinsel (be still my beating heart) tree. Such a helpful pussy.

Front row

Taking it all in while not lifting a paw.

My fur ball did get off his lazy ass when it came time to throw the lights on the tree.

I was hoping he didn’t join the fried pussy cat from “Christmas Vacation”…and he didn’t. Phew.

When it came time for ornaments, Bear was all smiles (well, as smiley as a cat can be) until he caught a glimpse of himself in a photo from our first Christmas together. When I so sweetly adorned him with a reindeer hat and scarf (you know, how all cats are dressed for Christmas card pics).

Who moi?

WHAT. THE. HELL.

It took all of two seconds for remnants of embarrassment to get Ted’s heart racing, resulting in swift removal of my beloved decoration.

Not my best side.

De-ornamenting the tree.

He then decided to stand guard, ensuring that the mortifying pic would not make it back onto the tree.

Guarding for bad photo ornaments.

Over my furry body that f’ing photo will be displayed.

Feeling not at all bad, I thought it best to make up with the little furry love of my life. To no avail.

Room for me under the tree?

Room for me under the tree? Nope.

While Teddy sulked away his humiliation (he’s such a little bitch), I finished my pride and joy with a few Skinny Pirates assisting me.

Up and glowing.

Up and glowing.

And for all of you on the edge of your seats, worried about the status of Mr. Bear and myself…well, we kissed and made nice.

kiss and make up

After I got a very stern talking to…and almost lost a chunk of my schnoz.

I’m happy to report all of our body parts remain in tact today – although I’m guess I’ll be a few less once we take our Christmas card photo in a few weeks.

Happy Monday!

CBXB

CBXB!