Game Changers

For everyone there are moments in our lives that epitomize time – where we will never forget the time, the place, the exact feeling.  I’m not talking about the life changers – births, space shuttles exploding, wedding days or the likes of presidential assassinations. Rather, the smaller instances you don’t realize the significance of what you’re experiencing and the way it will shape the days ahead.

Like the occasion it was presented that life as a ballerina wasn’t on the table.

Maybe not ballet....

Step ball changing my way through elementary.

Or maybe the time you realized Christina Aguilera was not singing about you in her hit song “Genie in a Bottle.”

No belly dancing...

Anyone got a magic carpet?

Could be when you realized you not only lacked the tact but also the appropriate attire for becoming a super model.

I see London I see France I see above your underpants.

I see London
I see France
I see above your underpants.

Khakis look good on a runway.

Bitch, please.

Said no one ever.

Remember when you saw your first concert and it inspired you to be a rock star?

Judo chop!

You either have it or you don’t. This Elvis doesn’t.

Maybe the time you had the first bite of your now favorite delicatessen, you knew nothing else would ever taste this good.

Taste bud changer. Don't judge my classiness of food choice.

Taste bud changer.
Don’t judge my classiness of food choice.

Or was it when you realized that the art of watching a collegiate football game would never again be a dull time if you add in some Skinny Pirates and moonshine?!

College football changer.

College football changer.

Possibly being educated about where feminine products are appropriately placed turned your world into a real life Monopoly board game.

Womanhood changer.

#SOS

Recently I found myself  in a downtown Nashville community building that is still all but deserted of anything reminiscent past the ’80s. I sat alone and waited impatiently for my name to be called so that I could further discuss the bad shit that happens to good people.  My leg was inadvertently bouncing so hysterically that the lone security guard came over to ask me if I was OK.

GAME CHANGER.

MOTHER FUCKING GAME CHANGER.

It was in that split second that my game changed.

I can’t help what happened to me. I can’t change the way I feel about this situation. I can’t help the sleepless nights, the not wanting to be alone with my thoughts, the shame I still experience. But I CAN do something about it.

So from this day forward, my uniform is permanently on.

Pads are on.

Bring it.

My blingy armour will remain in tact.

Armour is in tact.

Let’s do this.

I mean, it is fabulous.

I mean, it is fabulous.

I’m rounding up the biggest posse I can wrangle.

Rounding up the posse. You in?

You in?

And this tasty treat will be on the menu at my next mini manse party.

Mmmm... I'll have some of that.

Mmm…my favorite.

Who wants to play with me?
CBXB

CBXB!

White Trash Wonder Women

No, this picture didn’t take place on Halloween.

It’s evidence of yet another fabulously trashy tip I picked up from my youth.  When there’s nothing on the three TV channels you have in small town Iowa, dress up and run around in your underwear (and diaper if you’re not yet potty trained) with your sister and conduct a photo shoot – creating your own fun.

https://cowboysandcrossbones.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/image-10.jpg

Rescuing a ho-hum Friday night.

This photo captures many beautiful aspects from my childhood home. Multi-colored carpet (a gorgeous green, brown and a yellow mix that was sightly shag) in the kitchen (because it’s oh-so-easy to clean food out of fiber), a rotary phone on the wall (where my mom conversed with others in her ‘nice’ voice when we were in trouble, all the while pointing her finger and mouthing just how much trouble we were going to be in when she hung up), and the kitchen counter complete with a few Coors cans (now vintage style), waiting to be cashed in for five cents each (a recycling incentive that should be everywhere) at Cheese’s, the local grocery store.

By supplying us with Wonder Woman Underoos, my sister and I single-handedly created evening entertainment for the whole family (a burden we were more than happy to carry, if you can’t tell).

It’s like my folks came home after a long week and went down the checklist to ensure a smooth Friday evening:

Beer for us? Check.

Costumes (in this case Underoos) for girls to keep them busy? Check.

Beer for us? Check.

Camera to capture this precious moment forever? Check.

Oh, and beer for us? Check. Check. Check.

Looking back having so much fun in our fancy Underoos does seem to land on the white trashy side.  But we looked good doing it, right?

RIGHT?

CBXB

CBXB!