There’s a fucking saying, “do one thing every day that scares you”… and I’ve always thought it was pretty silly.
Go on a bungee jump? Try chugging a gallon of milk? Jogging instead of walking?
Well folks, I abided by the often used “scare you” quote and ran with it over the weekend (because my friend M. Star
made forced coerced asked me too nicely).
What also scares the fuck out of me is how fast my Iowa twins are sprouting.
Prince B and Princess B were fortunate enough to score tickets to Kids Bop through their parents, thus were escorted to Minneapolis for the big show. This being their first pop rock concert, they needed to fit the part.
Princes B channeled Auntie CBXB in the non-permament pink haired department.
What concert goer is complete without signs to hold up while fawning and screaming over the Kid Bop performers?
You know what else is scary? Voodoo got married and I want her wedding ring so badly that I may chop off her finger.
It’s also so scary to not watch Hawkeye football games with Dada CBXB because, it’s what we do. Well, what Dada CBXB and I do. Sister CBXB lives roughly 25 miles from the stadium and still, we get texts on game day like…
Because Voodoo’s marital celebration of bliss was in the middle of the Iowa vs. Indiana game, I arrived armed and ready for our Family Tradition shots. This week, we made an exception to do a winning (in lieu of an every touchdown) shot together, which may have been a blessing in disguise because the Hawks won 42-17.
While I was basking in Voodoo’s marital bliss and a Hawkeyes win, the twins were reveling in the first snowfall on Sunday.
While the twins were busy avoiding yellow snow, I was mustering up energy on Sunday morning, trying to remember why in the hell I told one of my besties, M.Star that I would go to my first ever spin class AND then go canvassing. Plus, it was a dreary, rainy day.
M.Star picked me up in her carriage and off to spin class we went. I was mostly worried about having to ice down my crotch afterward.
A few things happened during class:
- I could not stop staring at myself in the dimly lit room’s mirrors because my cleavage is off the chains due to Rapegate weight gain.
- My foot came out of my shoe that is locked into the bike when I tried to increase the resistance on the bike. Body was obviously saying DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE.
- I came in second to last in overall standings after 45 minutes. Bright side? I beat somebody!
Best part is, this was a mimosa ride.
M.Star then had asked me to go canvassing with her. I thought she meant to the local gay bar, Canvass and was all “hells yeah!” but what she really meant was “let’s go knock on stranger’s doors and tell them they should go vote.”
We stopped at the local office for a quick run down of what to and what not to say (i.e. I was forbidden to say “Marsha Blackburn is a cunt.” But I was allowed to say, “you should go vote – here’s where you can even vote early.”) It was deemed that M.Star would be our spokesperson and I would be her sidekick along with our mascot, Mabel.
I dug deep. Into a bottle of wine. And it worked. Civic duty here I am.
Back at the mini manse, I was mobbed by the very non-scary Pussy Posse, easing my weekend fears away.
I think I’m gonna take a breather from doing something ever day that scares me. Unless I’m plied with alcohol. Then, I’m pretty fucking fearless.