Weekend Winks – Car Party!

A lazy Nashville Friday night consisted of Skinny Pirates and laundry with assistance from Mr. Bear, of course.

Wanting to be the center of my laundry attention.

Fluff cycle.

A tad on the overly excited side, I accidentally ate an entire bag of Lay’s potato chips due to the fact that my bootlegged AE chip dip (brought back from last week’s trip to Iowa) called my name every three seconds from the fridge. Along with the equally delicious AE cottage cheese.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner for the weekend.

An unexpected girl’s Saturday night out called for pre-party cocktails and a fancy Instagram-ish photo shoot, showing off my leopard heels (purchased on sale at Dillards – $19.98. Hello!).

Cocktails and high heels on a Saturday night.

Upon arriving to our bar of choice, we commenced the rare evening out (some of these ladies have little ones, therefore not out-on-the town as much as yours truly) with a big, fat toast.

Cheers to Saturday!

Moms on the loose.

People watching is one of my fave things to do and I was trying to snap a pic of a gal’s rain boots all incognito with no success. So we sat up a mock photo shoot in the booth.

The cover up.

The victory shot of the camo rain boots with no precipitation in sight. But a much-needed documentation of Southern-style rubber mud kickers, agree?

Mission accomplished.

Once our camo clad photo shoot was busted (I think my loud laugh gave our shenanigans away), we kept up the charade of a photo shoot up much to our fellow bar-goers delight.

Can you believe the Ford Modeling Agency passed on this? Complete with a carrot shred in my lap?

Oh you have camo boots? We have carrot moustaches.

Yes. We know we’re very cool.

Upon completion of our own personal media event in the bar booth, we celebrated with bubbly in our parked car (since we couldn’t crack the champs open in the restaurant – I brought the bottle in celebration of a baby girl born to one of our fellow ladies eight weeks earlier – so I was a little late…).

Have you done this since you were 16? We’re just keeping it classy!

Backseat beauties.

Our car party was busted by the valet dude who acted like a cop on patrol.

Oh, what’s that you say? We can’t party in the parking lot of this fabulous establishment?

We kissed the stuffy bar good-bye (and I literally left my red lipstick and greasy nose print in my gal pal’s backseat) and hoofed it downtown to carry on the evening.

CBXB reminder for the week…I think that’s 24 hour stay put lipstick.

Disapproving of the late hour of my return, Ted could only look down his nose at me in disgust.

PAST CURFEW!

But he quickly got over it as I belly rubbed him to sleep.

Lazy leopard.

Sunday was spent giggling at photos of my god-daughter…what better past time?

Life is good!

Here’s to a happy week for you!

Cheers –

CBXB

How to Mend a Broken Heart

My cat Ted recently experienced his first heartache (click here to catch up) with our kitty neighbor McCain and you sweet readers have been worried, asking daily about my furball’s well-being (in the South, that calls for a “bless your heart”), so here’s an update.

Apparently, mending a broken feline heart requires the exact medicine used for healing a busted human heart.

Incessant sleep and wallowing on the sofa is a necessity in the rejected heart department (I left the Lifetime channel on for Teddy to watch sappy Christmas movies all day while I was away at work, of course).

Finding it hard to get off the couch.

Sharing a happy hour drink with your best friend always makes a kit cat feel better (don’t judge me with my head in the sink – a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do!).

No one wants to drink alone.

Cat rejection also requires the stuffing of one’s face with favorite snacks (yes, Ted prefers green peas…while I prefer a bag of potato chips).

Comfort food.

Long soaks in the tub also accompany broken heart repair. Ted tried this, as he’s seen me wash my cares away there many times.

Too much curiosity to relax.

After the failed bath, Teddy thought wine sounded good to help mask the pain.

Wine for the whiny.

Whisker lickin’ good.

I’ve turned my cat into a wino, oh boy.

And of course one too many gulps of wine immediately led to heavy slumber.

Teddy tears on a pillow.

After snoozing off the booze, Ted spied a likely heartbreak treat.

What to his wondering eyes…

And I knew he was feeling better because when I shouted “NO BEAR!” he carried on as if he was deaf.

Warning words falling on deaf ears.

An even better sign of his mending was our tug-o-war game over the chocolate.

HE WANTS CHOCOLATE, DAMMIT!

The ultimate test came when I walked around in full-on sequins as Teddy’s human disco ball (he loves shiny just like his mom) yesterday morning.  I patiently stood just so, letting the the sun reflect off my shirt to see how he would react.

A sparkle a day, keeps the heartache at bay!

And he’s back.

A sigh of relief as I left for work, knowing that I could turn the Lifetime channel off, pull the shades up to let some light into the house and put any sharp objects back in their designated spots.

Back in the saddle (or in his case, window) again.

And when that cheap trick cat McCain sauntered by this window, Teddy didn’t bat an eye.

I of course shouted at the cat “eat your heart out,” as any good mom would do.

CBXB