The Things I Do For Booze

What do you do when it’s snowed six inches overnight in a city that can barely function when it rains three centimeters and you realize that you only have enough wine for one more glass?

First world problems.

SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! CALL THE WINEBULANCE!

Since the Nashville Public Works denied my attempts to sweet talk a street sweeper to drop some vino my way, I trudged out of the mini manse to further assess the situation.

My snowmobile wasn't moving.

My snowmobile wasn’t moving.

So, I went back inside to load up on booze fuel in order to get my energy levels up in order to possibly face Snowmaggedon on my own.

Litle something warm.

Running on coconut rum and coffee.

With a belly full of warm libations, I headed out to haul my ass to the mother of all things blizzard. The liquor store.

Let's do this.

Let’s do this.

Naturally, I gussied Precious the Chug up in a matching outfit, as I needed company on my 1.5 mile walk.

P was all gussed up in a matching outit. Yes, I'm that pathetic.

Yes, I’m that pathetic.

Presh was all kinds of excited until she saw this first block of wet nonsense she’d have to traipse through.

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You want me to put my four inch arm in six inches of snow?

She turned around faster than one can acquire whiplash in a fender bender.

FUck that noise.

Fuck that noise.

So then I was off on a lone trip to kill more of my vastly shrinking brain cells.

So I was off in my not pink snowboots.

Losing site of each foot in the snow with every step.

Keeping myself entertained, I took selfies about every 200 feet.

Bending in this

Yep. Still shin deep.

I must say it was a tad eerie being out on typically bustling roads but I had no time to be scared because I was trying to thwart myself from heat exhaustion due to the 18 layers of clothing I’d thrown on myself before leaving my mini manse.

Lovely views

All down hill from here.

After getting tangled in branches that rivaled a Disney villain, I finally made it to the store after 90 minutes of non-wanted exercise.

Treacherous Trees

Treacherous trees.

Hallelujah!

I shoulda brought a backpack. Fuck.

Being that I didn’t want to over exert myself with back to back 1.5 mile walks (and also being that the entire way to the mini manse would be uphill), I decided to see if the bar next door was open.

Better fuel up before heading up the hill I just about had a heartattack comeing down.

Better fuel up before heading up the hill I just about had a heart attack coming down.

Everyone on the west side of Nashville appeared to be at the local joint, as it was asses and elbows at 4pm.

One tasty cocktail for me.

My kind of fuel.

Just so happens, I met up with some of my favorite gents who were looking for some snow day fun themselves.

Knights in Shining Armor

Snow days don’t suck.

1 100 for the road.

At all.

When it was time to say goodbye, my buddies became my knights in shining armor, giving this busted ass queen a ride up the hill. Naturally I insisted they come in for just one cocktail. And maybe a little guitar playing. And maybe a little dance party. And maybe another shot. Or nine.

We made it home shot!

The ‘we made it home shot’!

A little music break.

Guitar hero.

Because it's a snow day break.

The ‘because it’s his birthday shot’.

Head banging from the couch.

Head banging from the couch.

Because it's we're thirsty shots.

The ‘because we’re thirsty shots’.

Put your glitter kitty in the air. And wave it like you just don't care.

Put your glitter kitty in the air. And wave it like you just don’t care.

Because we can shot.

The ‘because it’s a snow day shot’.

Sock fighting with a chug at its finest.

Sock fighting with a chug at its finest.

Because we can't stop shots.

Because we can’t stop shots.

You know what comes in handy to soak up copious amounts of liquor consumed? Snacks. Unfortunately, due to the snow (and my decision to save myself with wine instead of food), I only had a pan of cornbread to offer as a feast.

Crumbs of cornbread.

It went over well.

All in all, I’d say we partied our cabin fever right out onto the snow covered sidewalks.

Um....so yeah, I'm empty.

The empty aftermath.

I know I did.

Snow days are hard.

What the fuck did happen last night?!

Snow days are hard.

Cheers!

CBXB

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For the Love of a Snow Day

Living in Nashville, winter has brought on a whole new experience when it comes to weather.

The city is currently almost completely shut down (the mayor has asked everyone stay off the roadways for the past three days) due to inches of ice on roads and temperatures below freezing, topped with new fallen snow.

Lacking appropriate snow accessories.

The snowcessories most Tennesseans use to clear their cars (maybe minus the Captain).

While this seems piddly compared to what other Americans are experiencing to our north, this slight winter weather halts an entire city, as there is a lack of city equipment to care for the roads, citizens can hardly handle driving in the rain, let alone freezing precipitation and quite frankly, current weather conditions happen about once every 15 years.

90 minute workout

It was a 90 minute workout and half a tank of gas to get my car de-iced yesterday.

And while businesses, schools and folks everywhere are turning into Jack Nicholson from The Shining due to cabin fever, I find myself feeling sorry that the city is shut down due to ice, not snow. Because snow days are fun. Snow days are for play.

Being from the Midwest, it was a very rare treat to get your ass out and actually play in the snow when you were supposed to be sitting in a social studies class.

I'm a lotta help. But I look cute.

Helping Dad shovel the sidewalk. The broom was a big help.

Growing up in rural Iowa, no one batted an eye when several inches (or feet) of snow, high winds and freezing temperatures were included in the forecast for the next day. No one rushed home early from work clogging up the streets, made a mad dash to the grocery stores buying all of the milk and bread in sight and no one abandoned their vehicles on the side of the road due to the frozen flakes falling from the sky (as people tend to do in my current state of Tennessee).

Anytime winter weather is in the forecast, the South freaks the fuck out.

No shit.

Bread and milk aisles in Nashville when snow is in the forecast.

Where I grew up, school was never, ever cancelled the night before predicted winter weather – which often included blizzards, sleet, hail, ice accompanied by subzero temperatures and wind chills (in Tennessee, entire counties and districts will call off school if any meteorologist utters the word “snow” during the weather segment).

Getting a snow day in Iowa was about as possible as Martians landing in the community park.

I DON'T WANT SNOWFLAKES IN MY EYES.

I wish I may, I wish I might, please let the snowfall cancel school for my delight.

So it was a rare treat when the phone (that was connected to the kitchen wall – oh the good ‘ol days) would ring in the wee hours of the morning announcing that school was cancelled (mostly because the buses couldn’t make the trip to get kids in the country).  Instead of sleeping one moment more, my sister and I got our asses out of bed like it was Christmas morning, adorned ourselves in all kinds of snow gear and headed out to play in the wonderland of white (usually with our cousins, who lived right across the street).

It takes this kind of snow to shut down schools in Iowa.

This kind of snow won’t merit a school snow day in Iowa.

Documented below is one of the funnest snow days in history (well, my history).

First we got to sled in the road, which felt like we were breaking all kind of societal rules.

The dog.

How ’bout my mom’s shit kickers? So warm in subzero temperatures.

Second, my sister and I built snowmen complete with cute, cozy accessories (mine came off of my body).

Sacrificing my warmth for a fashionable snow man...or maybe snow gal with the pink stocking hat.

Sacrificing my warmth for a fashionable snowman, naturally.

Then my cousins, the Morris boys, thought it would be a good idea to dig through the snow to Timbuktu.  I would rather have made snow angels and bedazzle my handmade snow creatures but of course I agreed to help excavate (as I had a cute shovel I wanted to put to use – and by I, I mean my cousin Derek. Let’s remember my fingernails are jewels, not tools).

Can we live here?

Can we live here?

I thought it was nothing short of a winter miracle when my dad and Uncle Lewis came out to play with us, constructing a snow fort out of a drift in my backyard, complete with a tunnel – diverting the dig to faraway lands (thank GOD – I was getting tired of being the project manager).

All these years later, I long for a true snow day to build (well, rather sit on my ample derriere and watch my cousins, dad and uncle construct) a fort.

But then again, I live in a state that has snow days with no snow.

Anyone want to road trip it to Iowa?

C’mon!

CBXB

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Snow Day!

Growing up in rural Iowa, no one batted an eye when inches (or feet) of snow were included in the forecast for the next day. No one rushed home early from work clogging up the streets, made a mad dash to the grocery stores buying all of the milk and bread in sight and no one abandoned their cars on the side of the road due to the frozen flakes falling from the sky (as people tend to do in Tennessee).

Snow days, the early years…

I'm a lotta help. But I look cute.

Helping Dad shovel the sidewalk. The broom was a big help.

I DON'T WANT SNOWFLAKES IN MY EYES.

I DON’T WANT SNOWFLAKES IN MY EYES.

School was never cancelled the night before an Iowa snowfall (in Tennessee, entire counties and districts will call off school if any meteorologist utters the word “snow” during the weather segment). Getting a snow day was about as possible as Martians landing in the community park.

So it was a rare treat when the phone (that was connected to the kitchen wall – oh the good ‘ol days) would ring in the wee hours of the morning announcing that school was cancelled (mostly because the buses couldn’t make the trip to get kids in the country).  Instead of sleeping in (like the lazy older kids – boring!), my sister and I would hurriedly jump up, put our snow gear on and head out to play in the wonderland of white (usually with our cousins, the Morris boys, who lived right across the street).

Documented below is one of the funnest snow days in history (well, my history).

First we got to sled in the road, which felt like we were breaking all kind of societal rules.

The dog.

My beloved dog Rocky – who always played side-by-side with us. And what about my mom’s kick ass cowboy boots for winter attire? So warm.

Second, my sister and I built snowmen, complete with cute accessories (mine came off of my body).

Sacrificing my warmth for a fashionable snow man...or maybe snow gal with the pink stocking hat.

Sacrificing my warmth for a fashionable snow man…or maybe snow gal with the pink stocking hat.  And Rocky, blending into the snow.

Then, the Morris boys thought it would be a good idea to dig a fort (such a dude suggestion) to Timbuktu.  I would rather have made snow angels and bedazzle snowmen but of course I agreed to help dig (as I had a cute shovel I wanted to use – and by I, I meant my cousin Derek. My nails have always been ‘jewels, not tools’ apparently).

Can we live here?

Can we live here?

I thought it was a miracle when my dad and Uncle Lewis came out to play with us, constructing a snow fort complete with a tunnel – diverting the dig to faraway lands (thank GOD).

All these years later, I want a snow day to build a fort with my cousins.  But then again, I live in a state that has snow days with no snow.

C’mon!

CBXB

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