The Yule Blog of 2020 Year in Review

What in the actual fuck 20fucking20?

Who could have predicted the surprising mess you would be? In honor of the longest, shortest, most eventful, confusing, defining, emotional, true color revealing, nothing surprises anyone anymore shitshow of a time, I’m doing a yule blog year in review. Starting with this overview, I’ll be breaking my “what-fucking-day-is-it-do-I-have-enough-toilet-paper-do-you-care-enough-about-others-to-follow-three-simple-rules-an-alarmingly-large-portion-of-Americans-are-in-a-cult-like-state-when-did-we-become-so-divided-did-that-just-really-happen-where-have-you-been-maskless-how-is-it-already-december” year down month by month in upcoming posts.

The eve of the new year, December 31, 2019…how the start of a brand new decade – let alone fresh year – felt exhilarating! 

New decade prep.

The years between 2010 and 2020 were beyond rough. I started that decade leaving an emotionally and mentally taxing relationship where I wasn’t appreciated for me being me, moved in with my parents as an independent adult for almost 365 days and sandwiched in between those years, my immediate family crumbled before my eyes, I was sexually harassed at work and lost a career that took years to build, I was raped by my best friend’s boyfriend, I gained half of my pre-Rapegate bodyweight in the following four years, found myself abandoned by what I thought was a tight circle of girlfriends, the electoral college system in America yet again granted a victory to a person who didn’t win the popular vote, THE furball love of my life, Ted E. Bear (and star of this blog) passed away three weeks before I lost my Aunt Crazy Pants to fucking cancer.

Ted. Teddy Bear. Mr. Ted E. Bear. Tedstar. Teddy Krueger. How I miss you.

Fuck, during that decade I was ALWAYS ready for a motherfucking new year.

So young. So innocent. Not knowing the fuckery that was to come a knocking.

Byeeee 2014!

GTFO 2016. Worst.Year.of.My.Life.

…looking toward 2018?

You get the (literal) picture(s). Of course fabulous happenstances were included in the shit sandwich of a decade. The absolute best was the grand appearance of the two not-so-little anymore loves of my life. Sister CBXB and my BIL gifted our family with twins!

The introduction of a lifetime.

I lost my goddamned mind in 2016 after Rapegate one day at PetSmart and adopted three cats at one time.

The Pussy Posse was born that very day.

Princess Elsa Pants of the Mini Manse, Ruby Sue and Rocky.

We’ve since added three more pussies and a Pomeranian.

Fabio, Scooch, Prissy and Girlie Girl have rounded out The Pussy Posse nicely.

Yes. Yes I do realize I will be single forever and I’m OK with it. I also love candles, reading and watch The Bachelor franchise in a wedding veil I found in my dumpster. I’m just living my best life authentically, OK?

This decade, I found my true ride or die people. In person – and virtually. I’ve never “met” some of my most cherished friends who live all over the world. The outpouring of solid, lasting support after sharing my Rapegate story and its profoundly life altering aftermath is what kept me breathing and why I’m alive to type this today.

I sent out the S.O.S. and you answered in droves.

Another reason I still live and breathe is Superhero Sheila. My therapist. My literal lifesaver. We met days after I was raped and she will always be in my life. Thankful isn’t a strong enough word but then again, there isn’t one that exists to describe how grateful I am for her. I can’t take a picture of Superhero Sheila for confidentiality reasons but I named my new car after her. No. I’m not kidding.

OK, so I may be more excited about my Sheila than the actual Sheila but how many peeps can say they have a car named after them?

The excitement of a new decade dawning was cause for fabulous celebrating on my leopard couch December 31, 2019. Out with the awful old and in with all of the brand new!

It’s finally here!

Little did I know the entire world would soon collectively feel like…

The start of THE shitshow of all shitshows was just around the corner.

What kind of badassery do you think January 2020 bestowed to me? We shall soon see.

Cheers!

CBXB

Buy Me a Drink

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weekend Winks – The Buck Stops Here

You know those weekends that you think are going to be low key? Mine started out on Friday with a heavy pour of pinot noir and snuggle down with the fur balls.

Wine down Friday.

Saturday rolled around and I could hardly get out of the bed, even though it was an Iowa Hawkeye game day.

Caturday canoodling.

I mean, with lay outs like the one below, I decided to crawl back into the throne and frolic with the fur balls.

A king almost falling off a queen sized bed.

The Hawks were going to play a number three ranked Ohio State University (whom I loathe, have always loathed and will continue to loathe forever and ever amen. Maybe it’s because you’re supposed to say THE Ohio State University…maybe it’s because they seem to piss every major bowl game down their leg, maybe it’s their cockiness….you choose). Dada CBXB and I almost didn’t get together because my he was having his cable worked on and we weren’t sure it’d be done by the game. I also think we both figured that being the 20 point underdogs, it may be the most boring game of the Hawkeye season.

Cheerleading from bed.

A game against THE Ohio State University several years ago is the reason we started taking touch down shots (to keep the games more interesting for us Hawk fans when we scored maybe one touchdown per game).

Then this gem of a text rolled in from my sister. Who, may I note, lives about 25 fucking minutes from the University of Iowa and Kinnick Stadium where kick off takes place. EVERY. SINGLE. Saturday she asks:

A) Who the Hawks play

B) What time the game starts

I, in turn, always love asking her who the Tennessee Titans play. Her guess this time goes back to when our dad played for the Baltimore Colts (who are now located in Indianapolis for you non sports fans). She’s a huge football fan, obvies.

I got all game day gussied up and headed out to watch what was possibly going to be the worst ass beating in the history of our team. It’s not that I don’t have faith in my Hawkeyes – I do – however, it’s sometimes heartbreaking being a fan because when we’re bad we’re very, very bad and when we’re good we rock.

On my way!

The game started and as I was saying, “Jeez it’s really lou-…” the Hawks got a pick six and scored for a touch down eight seconds into the game.

“At least we lead once this game,” said Dada CBXB.

Then, something miraculous happened and Iowa scored again.

Surprisingly a second shot as Dada said, “Well, at least we lead some of the game.”

Shot three game and we were silly with excitement.

NO ONE thought we’d have four touchdowns on THE Ohio State University during the first half (let alone the entire game).

Colin Cowherd, a sports media personality with his own pod cast hates the Hawkeyes with a passion. Even when Iowa had a perfect 12-0 season two years ago, he found holes to poke. Well, he taunted with a Tweet during halftime….

….SUCK IT Colin, ’cause the Hawkeyes kept on steam rolling. Cowherd really does owe everyone at the Deadwood bar in Iowa City a PBR.

We were ultra prepared for an OSU comeback in the second half but instead, the Hawkeyes kept on trucking and gave our livers a run for their money.

Shot fucking 5?!

Holy SIXTH!

Our reputation precedes us, as even our loyal Facebook touchdown shot counters noticed we had posted nothing during the entire game, as we typically document each shot taken.

HEY-OH we posted the last shot taken of the game!

THE BUCK STOPS HERE at shot seven.

With a final score of 55-24, all of the Iowa fans rushed the field…

…as did yours truly, only virtually.

I mean, how could I miss out on a moment like this – that will most likely never happen again?

Victory shot for good measure, along with how the rest of the night felt.

Even the Internet took notice over the ass beating we handed THE Ohio State University.

Being that I thought I would be sober Sally upon the completion of the game, I didn’t pack a bag to stay at dad’s….but I who am I kidding? I wouldn’t have changed out of my Hawkeye gear anyhow. I may or may not still be in my game day clothes and I may or may not change out of them until we lose again.

Not ashamed of this walk of shame.

Here’s hoping you’re having a week as high as I’m feeling. My head is still in the clouds because the buck stopped here.

CBXB

 

Please Hand Me My Cocktail. NOW.

Ever have one of those weeks you can’t wait to put behind you?

Where, when the day is over you find yourself telling the past 10 hours to SUCK IT?

This picture says it all, doesn’t it?

Three cheers the weekend is here!

Drink up, my pretties (or I will do it for you – *cue evil witch laugh*)…

Now where’s my Skinny Pirate?

CBXB

How to Survive in the Dark

You know when you have a gazillion chores to do around the house (which for me is unpacking about 56 more boxes in my new mini manse) and you’re finally in the mood to get everything accomplished in one (or so you think but really more like a consecutive 14) evening?  Last night I was in full organization mode, unpacking my cocktail glasses, finding a place for my liquor, vino and other spirits, cruising along quite speedily when the sky opened up and a crack of thunder (accompanied by lighting, followed by what seemed like a monsoon) clapped so loudly I about pissed my pants while Teddy cried out with a long, slow meow growl. And then, the entire place went dark.

My new residence is FAR from being settled.  And since I was trying to make some major headway, I had shit everywhere when the lights went out. Liquor bottles, a carton of cat litter, shot glasses, serving trays, toothpicks, vases, my beloved Skinny Pirate light, a fan, end tables, bag of cat food, tubs of picture frames, stacks of DVDs and mounds of throw rugs surrounded me on the floor in complete, pitch black, can’t see your hand in front of your face darkness. Oh F is the first thought that entered my mind as I stood still, hoping the electricity would pop back on moments later. And it did! For three seconds.

As I tried to maneuver my way off of the island of junk, my mind reverted to where my furniture was in my old place.  Walking straight into a wall (my toe still throbs), crashing into my kitchen table and breaking a nail trying to ‘feel’ my way to the drawer where I used to keep a flashlight in my old mini manse. That is still packed away. Among what seems like my millions of belongings. Shit.  I instantly gave up the search for battery-powered light and hunted for a lighter (that most certainly is unpacked, as I’ve used it but where the hell did I set it down?).

Twenty minutes and a long swig of wine later (while yesterday’s post makes me seem like an amateur in uncorking a bottle, I truly am a master. Truly! I opened not one – but two bottles of corked wine last night in the full on black with my mad skills. Impressive, I know. And don’t judge. I was bored!) I had two candles that I could locate glowing after finding the lighter on the floor behind the couch (well, my foot found it).

And then I did what all folks do in the forced dark. I ate all of my perishables in the refrigerator (which ended up not being such a fabulous idea but I didn’t want anything to go to waste!). I also sat on the couch willing the lights to turn back on. After about an hour of this, I did the only thing a girl could do. Take a bubble bath with a bottle of wine and a candle.

Suddenly, my “thunderstorms can suck it” attitude was a piss poor way of looking at the situation. A bath? Wine? Quiet? No unpacking?

Rain, rain don’t go away! Come back so I can be lazy a few more days!

After I blissfully turned into a bathed prune, I took the wine and candle party outside to my deck, listening to the rain, screaming kids driving their parents (and me, of course) bananas out of sheer boredom, barking dogs scared of the thunder (why the hell wouldn’t you let man’s best friend in the house during a storm?) and an adult sibling dispute erupting in the apartment above me (fun to eavesdrop, just hope no one is ever thrown over the balcony).

Nice ambiance. Not-so-peaceful atmosphere.

And in the six (seemed like 6,000 with all of the commotion) seconds outside and the five hours of sitting in the dark, I remembered why having no electricity blows (not meant to be a pioneer gal, obviously).

Suck it thunderstorms!

CBXB