Weekend Winks – Best Day of My Life…and Then Some

Due to the current football season underway, we were encouraged to decorate our work spaces with items showing off our #1 team last week. Per usual, I went with subtlety.

Just me, over here in my Hawkeye sequins jersey.

Overboard much?

I hate the Iowa Hawkeyes, obvies.

On Friday, we had a pot luck BBQ and there were raffle prizes to be distributed. When it was said that we were having a few “special guests” help draw the raffle names, my interest was beyond piqued. Then, in skipped two Tennessee Titans cheerleaders, which was pretty cool. As they were getting ready to draw the first prize, it was announced that there was one more special guest. My stomach dropped. I was thinking please don’t be the new head coach Mike Vrabel, please don’t let it be the quarterback Marcus Mariota, but pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease let it be my T-Rac. The official mascot of the Tennessee Titans.

See, I have a thing for mascots. You know, those fur coated creatures that accompany my fave sports teams. It sure as shit was my lucky day.

In waltzed T-Rac. My face went red, I screamed like a girl seeing The Beatles on the 1964 Ed fucking Sullivan show, and about broke my metal folding chair pumping up and down on my plump rump. With my heart racing, the cheerleaders started drawing names for raffle winners. T-Rac was the one distributing the awards and I had to get my hands on him. The final prize of the day – a $100 gift card and commemorative Titans glass was on the line. The blonde beauty drew that last ticket and….said MY NAME.

I reacted with real class.

I jumped like a fat rabbit up to get my prize while giddily giggle screaming the entire way.

HUG ME ALREADY.

In the span of 25 seconds, I managed to make a gigantic ass hat of myself in front of my entire office. I also managed to not only maul T-Rac but told him that I loved him AND announced that this was the best day of my life. It wasn’t even noon on a Friday yet.

 

Afterward, the gentlemanly raccoon and his cheering sidekicks stayed to graciously take pics with the peeps.

Four’s a crowd.

demanded asked the hot mammas to please move over and allow me a solo photo with my main plush squeeze.

Move over bitches. He’s all mine.

On top of being in the arms of a giant stuffed animal, my life was absolutely complete when I made my debut on T-Rac’s social media page as the inaugural “Fan of the day”.  Of course I turned right around and added it to my Instagram.

Stand by for our “Save the Date” wedding invites.

How could this day get any more exciting?

An email went out announcing free cans of wine in the breakroom. I had to steady myself as I sprinted down the hallway to hoard the loot.

Mine all mine – now safely in my fridge and damn good.

My adrenaline was pumping pretty high, so I was excited I had plans to celebrate one of my nearest and dearest gal pal’s birthday after work.

Birthday girl sandwich.

I could hardly go to sleep since I had such a positive karma filled day. Luckily, Ruby Sue was wide-eyed with me.

Too excited to sleep.

With it being a balmy 90 degrees on Saturday, I hauled ass to the pool, trying to make summer last.

Saturday sun soak.

While I was hoping Saturday wasn’t the last hurrah in the sun, my Iowa twins were up and at ’em with a clever activity. They put coins in pans to freeze overnight.

Different version of Frozen.

They had to break the ice open, count the coins and exchange them for dollar bills from their parents.

Big money for Prince B.

Princess B headed straight to the Dollar Tree.

Saturday night my Hawkeyes played and I headed out to Dada CBXB’s to get the tailgate going.

Who doesn’t love boxed wine and wings?

Positions assumed.

The kitty didn’t stay cozy for long, as Iowa scored five touchdowns. You know what that means…

Five Family Tradition winning shots, baby.

Easily soaked up the next morning by my omelette making father.

What shots?

Being back in the maniac celebrate-everything-for-fun-life mode again, I started decorating for Halloween all day Sunday. My fabulous Fabio could have given two shits about my hard work, turning the mini manse into a haunted fortress.

As I was going back and forth to fetch my Halloween bins from my car, it was raining lightly. When I looked up in the sky, there was a full on rainbow. I seriously considered getting in my rust bucket and searching for the end, hoping for a pot of gold.

For like, a full five minutes.

I mean, I had fab karma going on.

Instead of looking for lost treasure, I plopped down in my tub for a soak and a People magazine read (side note – I get Meghan Markle is now a princess from America and all but if I wanted to read about the Royals every week, I’d move to fucking England).

Then it was time for a snuggle down on the leopard couch with my new fall scented candles.

No better way to wind down after an exhaustingly excitement filled 48 hours. Amiright?

Here’s hoping your mascot equivalent finds you this week.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Summer Swirldown

How in the fuck is it the middle of September already? I mean, south of the Mason-Dixon Line we’re hitting 90 degrees today,
so it still feels like July. However, I am ready for all things Hallothanksgivingmas to commence and you can bet your ass I’m beyond thrilled college football is in full swing.

The tests of life were full throttle over the sweltering months of heat and while I tried to remain armored and ready to fight, I found myself more than exhausted.

*most of the time*

Much of the summer was spent lounging on my leopard couch with The Pussy Posse, admiring my seasonal celebration tree adorned with flamingos and sunglasses.

Yep. That’s Cousin Eddie’s camper beneath the tree.

 

 

 

The first punch of summer was coming home to the mini manse one Monday after work, finding my sweet Precious had passed on to the Rainbow Bridge. She was the last link to my “old” (aka pre-Rapegate life) and losing her really took one of the last pieces of my sparkly black heart.

Ted and Presh reunited over the rainbow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of course loss is a way of life, and with the horrible, comes the fabulous. One of my fave peeps, 5 Degrees, flew me to Phoenix to par-tay over the Fourth of July.

I have the best friends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I packed my leopard print suitcase (which still isn’t unpacked all the way – 5D, does that make your OCD skin crawl?!) and took my American Bad Ass south, not being able to wait to get the fuck out of Dodge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was able to not only cut loose with 5D and my beloved gal pal, Dumpy, I also was able to finally sleep. Instead of a puke and rally like performed in college days, I napped and rallied. In the middle of the party, I went to my bedroom, slept a few hours, work up and started all over.

A gent, a lady and an ass clown.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After gracing Phoenix with my presence, Rasta and I celebrated Nashville Pride by having duct tape slapped over our loud mouths. Kidding. It was for the NoH8 campaign.

I know many of you would like me to wear this tape daily.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Best lazy days are spent at the pool and I put hard time in over the summer.

Pool days for days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Girls just wanna have sun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now that I’m moving along in PTSD recovery, I can actually concentrate and read again without forgetting what I just read when I turn the page. I’ve immersed myself in books thanks to Sister CBXB, sending me all the good reads.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If I wasn’t at the pool reading, I was in the bubbles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Speaking of reading, my Iowa twins started kindergarten. Fucking kindergarten!

Two tall weeds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not excited about it at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After twirling myself down to the concrete and gaining a concussion, I hobbled around like a 92-year-old with a broken hip (when I really just had- have- a broken toe).

The Steven Tyler of cane decorators.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While rest proved to be just what the body ordered, it was the time of year where I could either choose to celebrate life or grieve in sadness as the first anniversaries of the lost loves came. The magnitude of losing my best friend just hasn’t gone away. The time has helped to ease the heaviness in my heart but there really isn’t anything that helps with the void of our daily routine. And how he was always there when I came home from Rapegate therapy every Thursday as I cried in my closet – he never left my side. Holy fuck was I lucky to be his mama. I can’t wait to see him again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first anniversary of the passing of Aunt Crazy Pants was a cruel reminder that I have yet to realize that she’s actually gone. I didn’t see her every day or talk to her every day but I sure as fuck still think to pick up the phone and call to bitch about a bad day or ask how to what the fuck shallots are for some ludicrous recipe because I’m no genius in the kitchen. While tears were shed, Mama CBXB, First Mate, Bird Lady and myself cheersed to ACP at the Cheesecake Factory with her fave cocktail, a Gin Rickey.

Celebrating ACP.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then, we shopped for shoes and sipped champagne at Tory Burch.

Cheers to the life lived.

 

 

One of the end-of-summer highlights…I, most likely along with every other customer, received a VIP card to my beloved Dalts. Which, in my opinion, I should have received 100 years ago.

About fucking time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The best part of the swirl down of summer? It’s the start of college football season, bitches. And Coach Kirk Ferentz of my Iowa Hawkeyes is not only celebrating his 20th year as Iowa’s head coach, he’s also the longest tenured coach in college football and just nabbed the all-time wins as an Iowa coach, surpassing Hayden Fry.

 

 

You know what football season means…it’s time for weekly tailgates with Dada CBXB!

Family tradition touchdown shot time!

 

 

 

 

Feeling a little stuck in the middle of muck this summer, the rest, family, friends and fur balls have kept me plugging along.

Stuck in the middle…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now I’m ready to tackle (pun intended) the rest of the year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love ya, mean it.

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Room With a View

Being that I’d been in slow recovery from my recent twirl down, resulting in a broken toe and concussion, it’d been a bit since I partook in any evening activities. This weekend called for a celebration of Bird Lady’s birthday and she chose to spend it at the fabulous Opryland Hotel in Nashville.

First Mate and yours truly arrived early to make sure the room approved our standards (I use the term “our” loosely as I used to be in a band and my standards are way lower than hers) – and did it ever. Except we didn’t find the refrigerator until just before checking out the next morning. It looked like it was a cupboard under the desk. How were we to know? So we ended up putting the ice maker to good use.

Blonde and Blonder.

We were also beyond excited about our balcony, overlooking the Garden Conservatory where we could judge people watch and sip our vino awaiting Bird’s arrival.

Room with a view.

Like, a gorgeous view.

Being that I’ve recovered from my recent concussion (which I confusingly refer to as my coma – so if you hear me say that, just roll with this blonde brained lady), it seemed like a fabulous idea to hang off the side of the balcony.

Not like I’m accident prone or anything.

Upon Bird Lady’s arrival, the celebration commenced.

Birthday Bird.

What’s a party without crowns?

Three times the fun.

Sushi was the choice of supper and for once, we asked someone else to take our photo. I mean, my arm does get tired when I have to take 1,978 selfies of us in order to get one approved by everybody.

Sushi, sake and smiles.

We then again asked for photo assistance while we played with horses and guitars.

If I had a bigger purse, the horse would have ended up at the mini manse.

Walking around the botanical garden-like wings of Opryland can be really pretty. Especially if you like fake flowers that are lit in your fave color, fuchsia – because that’s what was on display. And I not-so-quietly lost my fucking mind.

This definitely would be a lovely focal point in the mini manse.

Naturally, I had to get off the damn path and deflower the beautiful mesh sculpture for a photo-op.

Flower Power.

I was even able to coerce First Mate into joining in on the fun – although she is a classier woman than moi, so we posed in front of her favorite, rather than in the piece.

A whole lotta class with one gigantic ass.

After I threw a fit that this enormous hotel had no gluten free pizza, we headed back up to the room to polish off snacks.

Right before the party crash.

While I used to be the all-nighter, my sleepiness gets the best of me these days and I was the first to fall into bed.

Party pooped.

I spent a Sunday in my three of my favorite places…

The pool.

The bubbles.

The purrrrrrrrrrfect Pussy Posse.

I’m sure you are all keeping track just as closely as I am but as a reminder, my Iowa Hawkeyes start their football season in FOUR days.

In case you can’t count. Four.

See you on Saturday for touchdown shots!

CBXB

Weekend Winks – Bubbles, Books and a Birthday

It’s no secret that I’m batshit crazy.

However, due to the aftermath of Rapegate, I didn’t decorate my mini manse for the holidays for almost two years (this is the equivalent to giving my animals away). So it was serious business. When I put that goddamn glorious pink tinsel tree up this year, I didn’t have the heart to take it down. So it’s become my Celebration tree.

Just chalk it up to another reason I’m so fucking fabulous: cats, candles, books, and now a year round Christmas tree.

Christmas in July anyone?

At least it’s adorned with appropriate gear…flamingos, leis and sunglasses.

 

My cousin, B Master and his fam were traveling through Nashville and stopped for a quick bite to eat.

Being a bonus aunt doesn’t suck.

B Master had a relic with him and it’s a super doozie from a craft camp when he was a young lad.

A handmade wallet that won’t even properly hold a dollar bill.

However, it was designed to hold a photo of his favorite cousin, moi.

And, of course one himself.

As you can tell, good looks run in the family.

My side hustle is pet sitting and it was a fun week continued into the weekend with the foursome below.

Side hustle with this wild bunch for the week.

The bonus of this gig was the mega deep jet tub that I could hardly rip myself out of, as a bubble bath is my idea of heaven.

Friday Night Lights.

Princess B bucked up her bravery and had two teeth pulled.

No tears, no fear.

These days, the Tooth Fairy leaves behind a little more than I got back in the day.

Two bills a tooth, yo.

Even though Prince B didn’t have any teeth to yank, he proved his bravery by adorning his ninja warrior giddy up.

I’m glad he’s lacking a sword.

After a short recovery, it was time to head to an outdoor concert. Not sure why Prince B removed his red outfit.

Who wouldn’t wear a tutu to an outdoor concert?

Saturday was one of the most gorgeous of the summer, so Dada CBXB came in to enjoy the private pool at my side hustle (no, that also didn’t suck – along with the cute animals).

Sunning for fun.

A little gal pal gathering for our friend who was celebrating a big birthday and a move all in the same day.

Partay for a fave girlfriend, G Money.

Sunday was nothing short of a dream day for me. I woke up spooning a German Shepard, while butt-to-butt with the mutt and two cats on each side of my pillow. It took a long while for me to get my ass out of bed but when I did, I headed out to my private pool and relaxed the day away.

Sunday. Super, duper fun day.

After a book down in the pool and the sun said goodbye, I headed into that bliss bubble tub and read another.

I feel like I may have been a mermaid cat in another life.

I mean, hello!

Last week, I shared the love of rosé between Sister CBXB and myself in a post. My smart niece has taken to our slogan, “rosé all day.” You can imagine the family high fives when Bota Box liked the tweet, including my blog post.

Yes. Yes I will be her Auntager.

I’m already waiting by the phone for the Bota Box people to call my people. As well as prepping a filing system.

Just practicing for my future.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Super Hero, Sun and Snuggles

Life. Last week was a doozy in the fact that my chronic fatigue kicked into high gear. I was so ready for Friday at 5pm, I came home and when I laid down on the couch, I woke up two hours later. I’m not a napper but damn it felt ah-mah-zing.

While I was busy snoozing, Prince B was kicking ass and taking names as a super warrior ninja.

Even ninjas use jazz hands.

He was supposed to use his super power abilities to make it through the obstacle course.

Nailed it.

You know what else this handsome devil can do? Model. His love of books rivals my own and Sister CBXB has taken the twins to the library since forever. Proof is in the banner below.

Literature stud since birth. Yes, I can get you an autograph.

Speaking of autographs, I can also secure you one of Princess B when she becomes a hair model.

Curls on point.

I mean…can you even?

After my mini marathon of a nap Friday, I moved my ass to the bathtub and read to relax. I went to bed around midnight and woke up at 11:30am on Saturday looking nothing like the storybook princesses do. But damn was I rested.

A not so Sleeping Beauty.

As soon as I saw the sun was out, I met Rasta up at the pool where we had on matching swimsuits that were filled out a skosh differently.

Twinning.

My other gal pal, Voodoo found the.perfect.float at my mothership, Target. I will be purchasing this on my next payday because, how could I live without it?

MINE.

Saturday night called for a birthday party for my gal pal G (you know, the one who defended my honor and almost fought an 80-year-old man). It was a real treat to see these ladies.

Fab four.

I don’t get to see them as much lately due to the fact that they have procreated. And while I am extremely busy raising four lazy pussies, I can’t get them to play games with me. So I borrow everyone else’s spawn.

Don’t worry. There was a babysitter babysitting me, too.

Sunday was so dreary I could only think of one thing that might make it better.

The perfect Iowa trifecta of goods. Fresh sweet corn, Anderson Erickson Old Fashioned Cottage Cheese and their fucking bomb ass French Onion dip (which I always call french vanilla – sooooooo hard being blonde). Please, for the love of GAWD can a grocery store start carrying these products below the Mason Dixon Line?!

Throw in a steak and this could be my last meal.

Still feeling tired as all get out, I went back to bed to read only to be pounced on (a very, slow, lethargic pounce) by Rocky.

14 lbs of pussy.

My fucking arm and hand went numb because how could I move this face? HOW?

Dead weight.

While trying to do things with my non-dominant left hand, I happened to scroll passed a very accurate meme on Instagram.

Further fucking proof of a snoozing Pussy Posse.

Obviously Rocco moved and I was able to resume finishing my book. Then I was down a pussy in the bed and went on the hunt for Fabio who typically is demanding a head rub on my chest. I found him on the kitty condo enjoying some solitude.

He just needed a minute.

While I was getting ready to pour myself a cup of Sleepytime tea, these two clowns were still up at 8:30pm when their usual bedtime routine starts around 7pm.

Night caps of milk.

Monday started out in the loveliest way possible. As my alarm did its duty, the pussies that were sleeping in each arm pit and on my chest scattered, knowing it was feeding time. I rolled over and saw cat ass. Awe.

Best view in bed.

Here’s hoping you don’t already feel like this today, too.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!