Tag Archives: bath

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Weekend Winks – Feelings of Funk

I have been in the worst mood the past few weeks. Nothing self inflicted – mostly my reaction to first world problems kind of bad mood. I haven’t been able to shake it the fuck off (where is Taylor Swift when I need her?!) and it’s been an emotional and mentally exhausting time. The kind that sucks the joy from your bones.

Anyone else been stuck in a foul funk?

All the feels.

Luckily for me, aside from implementing the coping skills gained from therapy, my fur babies just know when mama needs extra TLC.

Prissy leading the snuggle pack.

I can never stop gazing at her purrfectly imperfect underbite. It’s the fucking cutest thing to me.

No need for canine braces.

My middle boy, Fabs, is the pussy most attached to my side by demanding attention, head rubs, head butts and figure eighting between my legs in horrible attempts to trip his already klutzy as fuck mother. But damn do I love the companionship (and let’s be honest, constant attention).

As for my twins, Rocky and Ruby Sue (aka Thundercunt), they may as well be attached at the hip. At night, this is their exact position, only I’m in the middle.

The snuggle is real.

Coming home and being surrounded by The Pussy Posse is a tremendous aid in the day-to-day bad mood struggle. You know what else helps? Weekends. And booze.

First Mate has been busy running around the world traveling for her new job, so we needed a catch up on a fabulously fall weathered Friday.

My kind of happy hour.

What the fuck would we do without our friends?

Hawk chomp.

College football is also another sanity sidekick I eagerly anticipate every Saturday. My Iowa Hawkeyes lost two of the last three games, so there was some extra added bubbles into the mix, as our family tradition shots have been shockingly sobering the last two weeks.

Champs. The only thing fun about an 11am kickoff.

Still touchdownless during the first half against Purdue, we overindulged in all the tailgating snacks.

Snack attack ingredients combined.

Then FINALLY, Iowa scored two touchdowns, double shots went town smoothly and our livers were back up and running.

Two touchdowns and a WIN!

While I was celebrating Saturday away, my two little monsters in Iowa were busy prepping for Halloween.

Cutest pumpkins on the planet.

I’m not exactly sure what was in this concoction, or which witch is gonna consume but brewing took place outside of their palace.

Witches brew, anyone?

Princess B has become quite the “baker” as she learned how to deep fry an Oreo.

Chef BoyarePrincessBee

She hated it.

The grocery chain Trader Joe’s is one I have never stepped foot in, mostly because it’s in the middle of a highly congested area of Nashville (and we all know how I feel about the fucking traffic here nowadays). A new store opened in my neck of the woods, so I decided to make my way in for their CBXB priced wine I’m always hearing about.

Trader Me Happy!

I got a cart (buggy if you’re from below the Mason-Dixon Line) and soon remembered why I don’t go to grocery stores on Sunday. Especially stupid since this Trader Joe’s had its grand opening this week.

Superfuckingmarket Sweeps.

There is no way the store wasn’t at its capacity, as every aisle I tried to venture down was asses to elbows to shopping carts nipping at my fucking ankles. Therefore, I just stayed in the wine aisle and gazed lovingly at the gigantic assortment offered.

Still worth the pennies on the vino I paid.

After the shitshow of Trader Joe’s, I went to my mothership, Target and ran into First Mate. Obvies it’s obvies why we’re besties. Afterward, we headed to Dalts for our new favorite Sunday cocktail, the poinsettia (champs with cranberry juice).

Watering hole.

After settling back into the Mini Manse, I practiced my Sunday selfcare for two hours (yes, I have to drain the tub and add more hot water but soooooo worth it).

As for the funky feelings, they are still lurking around the corners of my mind but what can’t be cured by pumpkins and wine?

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

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Weekend Winks – Spirits, Sparkles and Small Spaces

First full work weeks after holiday time off requires some celebrating for making it back into the regularity of well, regular life. What better way to do it than a little impromptu girl’s night out?

Girlfriends are the gift that keeps on giving.

Hi 2019. It’s me. Be nice.

While I am pretty sure I gained my body weight consuming every.single.alcoholic beverage I cold get my paws on, I’m back at hot yoga, trying to sweat out all of the impurities.

Nama-trying-to-get-fit.

Those not having to try hard in the slightest are those Iowa twins of mine who got to frolic in the snowfall over the weekend.

Snow Princess.

Snow Prince.

Although, I will say my B-I-L did have his work cut out for him, pulling two almost six-year-olds through the white fun.

Two ton ride.

While I haven’t made a new year’s resolution since fourth grade (I vowed to read 52 books and yes, I achieved that goal and then some because deep down, I’m a librarian rock star at heart), I did locate a possible dream vacation goal for 2019. Thing is, I wonder if all of my pussies can also cross the Canadian border…?

Who’s in?

I mean, don’t they look like they’re ready to be world travelers and not the laziest beings on the planet?

Three of my indoor four.

And for those of you keeping track, I still have this family of four I’m feeding outside. Anyone interested in rescuing? Anyone? Anyone? ANYONE?

My outdoor four.

Aside from my Meowfest goal, I’ve been besieged with social media tags on how I should exit this world. And I have to say, I’d really like this casket now because it matches my pink sparkly bass drum coffee table and I think it would make a good napping station.

I would actually sleep in this now. Morbid much?

What’s a day of rest without a little fun? First Mate and Rach called the first brunch of the season and who was I to say no?

Eeny Meeny Miny Mimosas!

From OJ to grape juice.

Finally, it’s time to take the Christmas decor down from the mini manse. Which meant I needed to climb up into Camo’s attic where he graciously allows me to store my warehouse’s worth of holiday bins. It’s the getting them down part that’s the most fun.

I may or may not still be stuck here.

Good news. I wiggled my way down and now all of my neighbors think I’m moving out, as I’ve decided to store my bins outside of the mini manse.

Nope. Not moving.

S.O.S.
@therosepepper

When the Alexa that I don’t own was no help in de-decoring, I decided to do the next best productive thing and immerse myself into bubbles.

It’s ain’t easy being me….as we’re all well aware.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

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Weekend Winks – Back to the Future

Is it just me or does it feel like 1991?

Funny how my history teachers always said history repeats itself and here the fuck we find ourselves in the dramatic throes of a SCOTUS nominee scandal, with sexual assault being at its core – AGAIN.

Proud as fuck of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford.

I chose to follow the hearings as closely as possible because I want to be as informed as possible. Others I know chose not to watch, read or follow anything in the media for all types of various reasons.

Can’t stop. Won’t stop stress eating.

The testimony from Dr. Blasey Ford and the SCOTUS nominee could not have been more opposite. It was like watching a bad reality show, only it’s for real unfolding in front of your eyes. Lucky for me, I had my therapy Thursday and then an evening in with my band buddy, A-Ha.

Sometimes wine out of pumpkin glasses is just what the day ordered.

Another distraction which is funny as hell but not to one little lady in particular. My nephew, Prince B has lost three more teeth than Princess B – all within one week.

AND RUBS IT IN.

Ah, the good old days when all that mattered was who was losing teeth before whom.

I was asked/told several times that I was attached to the SCOTUS drama (along with the millions watching America’s politicians around the world) because I’ve been a victim of rape. Well, that’s partially true because my trigger bell went into high force when the person in charge of America started victim blaming and shaming publicly and others joined in the prior Friday.

All I can say is I know in my bones that Dr. Ford Blasey is not lying. I would bet my life on it. I would bet my cats’ lives on it. I also know that as a woman, this took me back to the first time I found a hand in my pajamas at 14 years of age and didn’t know what to do. I can’t tell you all of the details but I sure as shit know who did it to me. And the “minor” incidents – the ass grabs and slaps from strangers, unwanted come-ons from superior co-workers, just ultimately knowing that most of the women in my life have had some degree of harassment – even if it didn’t culminate into a rape. Shit like this reopens deep seeded wounds and memories whether or not we like it.

On a happier note, Dada CBXB retired on Friday! His company had a breakfast par-tay for him and then we went to lunch with his department. I adorned his college football practice jersey and a football card from when he played for the Baltimore Colts.

No work, all play!

As soon as the lunch was over, I sat in my car, trying not to have a come apart. First, I was enraged last week. I was furious watching the hearings on Thursday and then Friday, knowing how there would be a confirmation, the feeling of pure defeat washed over me. A feeling I couldn’t shake.

And while I want to be brave and strong when people say, “there’s nothing you can do about it,” I call bullshit. I can speak up. I can write. I can vote. I can demand better for my niece and nephew’s generation. But, it’s exhausting to try to move through normalcy when the culture of this country regarding women has hardly budged in 30 years.

 

 

I share these videos and emotions to show the vulnerable side and the aftermath years after incidents take place on survivors. I want to share how I truly feel. How it feels for people – women especially – to over prove, over think, over compensate themselves in every.single.situation. To think about what you have to wear before going to jog – can you insert both headphones or leave one out? My key goes in between my fingers as a weapon. To have your mom remind you to wear a hat while driving at night alone, so you look more like a dude. To be careful about walking alone to your car, cause you never know when someone may try to mug you.

You are not alone.

Through all of this, humor is the one thing I can always cling to and happily welcome from Sister CBXB. Along with the hundreds of you who checked in on me all last week, lifting my spirits. My sister noticed something very key that stood out to her in the videos.

The lipstick is Urban Decay for the record. And I put one coat on Friday morning. I took the videos Saturday am, FYI.

Heading to the park for a walk while bawling underneath sunglasses (so chic and not weird at all) helped ease some of the sadness.

Fucking preach.

And so did strawberry martinis with Mama CBXB who demanded a lunch date.

And so did some vino with Bird Lady and First Mate, who have seen more ugly than pretty in me the past five years. I’ve cemented their friendship in happier times, so they’ll need a jack hammer to remove themselves out of my life.

Stuck like cement.

Oh, and speaking of humor, I want to personally deliver an Emmy for a guest appearance to Matt Damon and his spot on, perfect depiction of the SCOTUS nominee at the hearing on Saturday Night Live. Luckily, I recorded it and have watched the cold opening no less than 461 times. So on point. If you have not watched it, Google it now. Right now.

Sunday, Rocky and I got sucked into binge watching and football.

Not wanting to acquire couch sores, I made it to the bathroom for my bubbly routine.

Then it was time to love on my youngest boy, Fabio (who is also known as Fartio because he farts when he gets nervous). It was our one year anniversary together and we celebrated his “Gotcha!” day.

Fabio hearts being mauled.

Starting a fresh week, there’s a few things I know for sure…

I think this bun makes me appear smart.

This still rings true…

And…

Oh, and in case you were wondering what to write down in your calendar/journal this week so you can look back on it 36 years from now when hopefully there isn’t a circus full of ass clowns – and yes, I’m talking about almost all of them – “leading” the country here’s a suggestion:

Write it in permanent marker, just in case we go back to the future and need reference.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

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Weekend Winks – Lights, Santa, Action!

The most wonderful time of the year…has been really fucking hard for me to get into the past few seasons. So in an attempt to kick-start my holiday merriment, I went to see the lights at Nashville’s Opryland Hotel on Friday. Every year, they decorate their botanical gardens with millions (or maybe thousands) of lights throughout the property.

Light show captured by @steve_zeinner.

This trip used to be tradition but I just haven’t been in the mood the last three years, so I forced the fucking spirit – even if it almost killed me. Which it did because if you take a look at the doors to your right in the photo, the platform I had to jump up to was well beyond my physical skill set. But goddamnit I got up there.

It only took 8.9 minutes for me to jump onto this platform.

The lights and music did help (along with a few martinis) rally me into the festive spirit.

While I was creating holiday mojo, my Iowa twins were gearing up to ride the Polar Express to see Santa.

Cuteness overload.

Not excited.

At all.

When they finally got to the man in red, Princess B tried putting the moves on him by holding his hand (as I’ve said before I couldn’t have birthed her better myself).

Nothing but love.

While the twins were living it up on the pseudo North Pole, I was taking the newest addition of the mini manse to the vet. For…ultra attractive, not at all disgusting worm treatment.

I had one pissed off pussy on my hands but Fabio took his butt treatment like a champ – and then we also discovered he had ear mites. Poor dude. All is well now and none of the other members of my pussy gang have contracted either squirmy, wormy ailments, thankfully.

Last week when I had family in town, a cactus that was cut from my Grandpa’s (who passed over ten years ago) was delivered to me (thank you S.S.). However, being that I have no green thumbs (pink only for me of course), it’s already turning a bit brown. How do I save it? I’ve seriously had this thing for maybe 12 days and I’m already murdering it. Anyone?

Cactus SOS.

While the spirit of any holiday has been hard to jump into, life in general has been a fucking challenge of late. And, again with friends and supporters like you, it’s all but heart exploding when I get reminders like this from you guys. These reminders always come at the perfect time.

Reminder well received Allidme.

Not sure if you guys remember but I am a huge Iowa Hawkeye football fan. A little earlier this year our mediocre team beat the shit out of a nationally ranked number five team THE Ohio State University Buckeyes whom I loathe (although, this team is the reason Dada CBXB and I started the Touchdown Shot tradition) with a score of 55-24.

And we don’t hate it.

Even though Ohio State went to win the Big Ten Conference championship on Saturday night, they were snubbed hard when the top four selections of teams came out on Sunday, being eeked out by Alabama, thanks in part to the Iowa ass kicking.

You’re welcome Bama fans.

Sorry not sorry for the cockblock of THE Ohio State University.

While running errands to put some holiday touches in the mini manse, I couldn’t believe my alcoholic eyes when I saw Target actually sold corks for decor.

I have about 429 corks around my mini if anyone wants to buy them.

Princess B acquired a cold after all of the Santa excitement. Luckily for everyone involved at her castle, she had her own remedy plan put in place.

I uncorked a bottle of vino (which brings my total to 430) and hopped in the bubbles for a long winter’s bath (even though it’s 70 degrees in Nashville).

Turns out that was an ideal move by yours truly as I sat in over an hour of traffic on a route to work that usually takes me 15 minutes.

Good thing I found this gem shopping yesterday to help with my Monday woes.

Dreams do come true.

All in all, the weekend got me festive enough to slowly start embracing the Christmas cheer.

Ready to get this holidaze shit show started.

Cheers!

CBXB

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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!

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).

Thunderstorms accompanied by no power? Yes please.

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

CBXB!