Weekend Winks – Cat Woman Style

Much to my unembarrassed delight, it seems as if I’m becoming known around the streets of Nashville for my crazy cat lady status.


This is Ted and I love him more than most humans. Deal with it or move on.

Last week, I was in the pharmacy (you know, where actual people get their medicine) picking up a prescription for my recently acquired sick ass stray kitty, New Cat.

Hi. I'm expensive. And I like it that way.

The most expensive stray cat in the history of my mini manse.

Wanting to put a paper bag over my head when I heard “New Cat, New Cat, your prescription is ready,” over the loud-speaker in Walgreens, I assured myself that this couldn’t have been a blip in the pharmacist’s radar of unusual medicinal refills.


I went to pick up my own personal prescription this weekend and, well, I got a handwritten note from the pharmacist accompanying my refill.

Yep. Seriously.

Making last impressions whether I want to or not.

The lady at the register commented that the pharmacist must remember me from a previous visit. Oh, no shit Sherlock?

My Iowa twins thought the story was simply hilarious.

Because they're happy...

Can you believe our aunt is such a jack ass? Hee Hee.

Ma came in to soothe nerves and further extend the celebration of my birthday month week.

Like mother, like daughter!

Cheers to cray cray and birth dates!

Of course I didn’t mind being a tad spoiled…


I wish my mom knew me better.

Gift helps

Thank God I had Tedstar to aid in the unwrapping of every piece of ribbon.

Due to all of the glitter on the gifts, I was able to shine bright like a diamond the rest of the day with the copious amount of pink sparkle on my jeans.

Not at all upset with the glitter.

Wishing these jeans were for real.

Taking my upgraded fancy pants out and about, we invested in a few birthday cocktails.

Still a celebration

A glass for the birthday. A bottle for the crazy.

Perusing through my gifts the next morning, I got a little tangled in my new Beats by Dre headphones.


Taking headphones off for blondes is hard work.



Possibly the best birthday gift of all this year? A long-lost scrunchie (yes I said scrunchie) that I wear to bed nightly reappeared with my mom after her last trip to Iowa (I was for sure my dogphew ate it).


It’s a birthday miracle!

All of the tangled excitement and scrunchie fever had me exhausted before noon.


Thanks for the over-partied recovery mask Enchanted Seashells!

Here’s hoping you have a week filled with non-crazy cat ladies and lots of springtime fun.





Tale of the Dark Roots

You ever wake up and just want to give up on your appearance? Showing up for work, having your co-workers talk behind your back about what a trashtacular turn for the worst your looks have taken?

I gave up on my appearance.

Hello. My name is Captain and I could give two shits about the way I look.

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? Remedies I’ve found…

#1. The Snooki

Snooki wants her pouf back.

The Southern version of the Jersey Shore ‘do.

Requirements: two barrettes. This overall style saves me 25 minutes of hair time in the morning.

Two barettes

Objects may seem higher in the mirror than they are in actuality.

#2. The Bang

When I was bitching at work regarding my hair care, a girl turned around and said, “Just wash your bangs in the morning.” Well DUH!

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…

Requirement: scarf (and no ponytail the day/night before). This is the ultimate time saver, as I can truly get up, 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).

#4. The Bun Day

I just recently tried this technique while at the beach over the holidays. So it was an accidental greasy hair cover-up.  When I appeared at work with a knot on my head one dude said “rough night last night?” while another asked if I was a dancer. Seriously.


The hungover ballerina.

Requirements: 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.

Two toned

Two toned remedy equals 15 more minutes of the snooze button!

Now you’ll know when I’m between salon visits – if you can even 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.