Tag Archives: younger

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Village People, Iowa Style

Iowa is my home. It’s where I was born, raised, grew up and attended college. All four of those life instances took place in different parts of the state. I was born and raised in a small town (I refer to as home home) of 1,200 peeps, moving to the Des Moines area when I was in eighth grade (which is where I “grew up” so-to-speak) and became a Hawkeye when I attended the University of Iowa. Due to a downhearted event with the passing of a cousin, I needed to get home home (where I was born and raised) in the corner of Southwest Iowa with a few day’s notice earlier this month. Me trying to figure out how the fuck to get where I needed to go with 3,612 moving parts was like the worst algebra problem I ever faced.

Do I fly into Des Moines or Cedar Rapids? Who can pick me up on short notice? Should I try to borrow a car? What about getting back to the airport? Do I have to have the gold star on my license yet to fly? WHAT IS GOING ON?!

Performing this feat is like trying to get to Mars (where’s Jeff Bezos when I need him?) because once you land at one of the two major airports in Iowa (IF you can find a last minute flight there), you still have hours to go by car in order to wind up at your final destination. Thank fuck I have friends and family who put in time and effort acting as travel agents, angel investors (flying to Iowa isn’t cheap in the first place and one of the flights I saw to book cost $6,000 with a layover – my ticket was nowhere near that pricey) and Pussy Posse sitters to make this last second shit happen for me.

Once travel plans were set on a Friday for me to leave the following day, I acted as if I’d never flown anywhere before and found my leopard suitcase full of 2019’s St. Patty’s day shit.

After unloading it, I texted a family member, asking what she was wearing to the funeral service (as I was planning on a black dress). She responded….and I could only imagine one thing pictured below.

Now, I’m not the end all be all when it comes to the fashion police but there are a few things I loathe more than Crocs footwear (when not properly used for yard work or as non-slip work shoes) but jean capris rank right up there (she did not, in fact, wear jean capris to the funeral, FYI).

After throwing what black dress I thought might fit into a suitcase, I was ready to head to the airport where I realized I hadn’t checked in 24 hours prior to my flight and if you’ve ever flown Southwest, you know that’s a grave mistake. The seating starts at A-1 and ends at C-50 in order of boarding the flight.

Indeed I was the final person to board the full aircraft and I realized I forgot my hand sanitizer but that ended up being the least of my worries once I found the last open seat.

Arriving to Iowa without incident, I was greeted by Aunt Crispy and Uncle Toddy (the man who taught me to snort knox blocks up my nose as a kid) at the airport and escorted to their fab abode for a night’s stay.

Lipstick on my teeth is a sign that we’ve been in masks far too long and Iowa, ya girl noticed you need to do a better job in wearing them. I mean, especially since your Governor Covid Kim, isn’t helping protect you or your kids.

Adding further insult to my fashion sense, the fella picking me up from Uncle Toddy’s the following day arrived to escort me to Southwest Iowa in what he calls “time savers”. Naturally I voiced my concern at his footwear choice immediately but all was forgiven being that he adorned an Iowa Hawkeye hat even thought he attended the rival school.

Upon arrival at my stay in Lenox, I was shown to the guest quarters where the bed made me resemble André the Giant. I couldn’t decide if it was adorable or creepy as fuck but regardless of my feelings, I slept on a very accommodating air mattress that would allow for my short legs to stretch long.

Even with a comfy sleeping arrangements, I basically stared at the back of my eyelids all night, dreading the next day in that we were saying goodbye to my smiley cousin Linda.

While it was a hard, it was a beautiful day to celebrate Linda’s life. I was the youngest grandkid by far on this side of the family. Linda was ALWAYS so pretty and doing something cool that seemed so fabulous to me and I couldn’t wait to be like her (and her sister Dianne) one day.

Linda, Dianne and their groupie.

The “didn’t wear Jean Capris” and “Time Saver sandals with socks” folks ordered a gorgeous flower arrangement for the celebration service. This complicated as fuck bouquet was ordered from a town over, that didn’t deliver and proved to be a challenge in the day’s events because we (Jean Capris) worried about getting it to the final destination for no less than 12 hours in the three pieces it came in.

Thank fuck there’s no stoplight in this town because by going slightly under the 15 mph speed limit, the flowers, statue and candles in this arrangement made it in one piece. They knew better than to entrust me with anything that could be dropped – or – broken if I had a slip and fall (very common for me these days).

One of the best things about awful days like this are seeing the peeps and family you grew up alongside. The folks who shaped (and tolerated my ass) in the early years of life. We’re missing a few cousins for the now vs. then pic but they were there with us in spirit.

I couldn’t imagine what my closest cousin on this side was feeling, losing her older sister. But man, it felt good getting to hug on her and see that she has not aged one bit with the time that has passed.

I ran into a few teachers of my old teachers at the service and I could NOT bring myself to call them by their first names even though decades have passed and we’re friends on Facebook. Mrs. Shawler, Mr. Peterson, and Mr. Oliphant (who assisted me when I got hit in the face with a baseball bat in 7th grade and told my terrified ass I was going to need stitches), were all among the crowd paying respect.

It’s been at least a dozen years since Time Saver and Jean Capris had their photo nabbed with these three gorgeous gals. The most contemporary pic they have of me is my high school senior class photo and I’m not mad about it in the slightest because I pretty much peaked in high school.

As we gathered to celebrate Linda’s life, you couldn’t help but see the love she had for her family and especially, her kids.

I’m so very thankful and lucky to all of those who helped get me to my final destination in a day’s notice. Being home home meant the world in order to say goodbye to my cousin and hello again to family I hadn’t gotten to lay eyes on in real life for years. The trip was brief, sad and fulfilling in all of the ways.

As if we need this reminder in today’s world, say what you need to say, hug when you can hug and love the fuck out of people while they’re here.

Also, don’t wear socks with slip on sandals – no matter how much time it saves you.

Stay safe out there. Remember others as you go about your days. You never know whose life you could be saving by getting vaccinated and masking up.

Thanks for being a part of my village.

Love ya, mean it.

CBXB

BUY ME A DRINK

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Dog Days of Summer

If you know me in the slightest, you know that my fur kids are people to me (whenever I walk in my front door, no matter if I just took the trash out, I holler “where my peeps at?”). My world revolves around them. And, suffice to say, I have had the greatest honor and pleasure of rescuing a small zoo.

But there are always fur babies that hold an extra special spot in your heart and I’m sad to share that I came home from work last week and found that my chug, Precious, had passed away. She was in the exact spot where she normally awaits my arrival home. Although, upon calling out, her little tail didn’t wag and her head didn’t pop up in excitement of seeing her mama after mere hours away from one another.

Coolest chug on the planet.

To say that I am devastated is an understatement. I am having a hard time writing this now – and yet as we all know too fucking well – life moves on. For me, I’m trying to comprehend the timing. I’ve lost my two best fur friends within a year. Two fur peeps that were like guns in holsters by my side, one on each hip constantly. My chest has been heavy and my heart is honestly in pieces. But with my constant support system of the fabulous humans in my life, I’ve managed one moment at a time. One bestie told me that if she didn’t know me, she’d think I had Munchausen Syndrome of drama because so much shit has rained down in the last few years. But unfortunately, it’s all true. Which is why I always let people go first when we talk about how our day has been.

Ted and Presh. Best buddies playing forever over the Rainbow Bridge.

I dread walking through the front door where I found Presh but on the first day the task had to be done, I had a bouquet from the most kick ass friends in which a girl could wish greeting me. They were sitting right outside my door, easing the burden of the inevitable door walk through.

Flowers are a grieving gal’s best friend.

While I wanted to wallow in bed with the covers over my head, I realized I do have rent to pay, lights to keep on and four pussies to feed. When I came into work, pink roses awaited my arrival.

Team members showed their love.

My cousin and his wife were thankfully in town Friday and Dada CBXB and myself went to meet them for a much-needed Skinny Pirate(s) after the longest fucking week. While I do pride myself in being current, I couldn’t help but die when I snapped a pic of our cocktails and saw that a walker was in the background. If you get to Dalts before 5pm, you’ll be sharing the bar with people who make you feel like a newborn. And I don’t hate it.

Can you tell we’re related?

In my Iowa twin news, there were getting prepped for the arrival of Coo Coo (yes, that’s the phrase we use for grandpa – always keeping it classy).

Hunk of the month. I’m talking about the boy, not the dog.

Swish swish full of swag.

Coo Coo made it just in time for cocktail hour on Saturday.

Jazz hands run in the family, obvies.

Another thing that runs in the family? Fabulous nails. Princess B set out to give Auntie CBXB a run for her patriotic mani money.

Red, white and blue-hoo!

Tootsies too.

Same color scheme, slightly different approach for this old broad. I can’t wait to make Sister CBXB give me a manicure next time I see her since she’s got mad mani skills.

Patriotic claws.

While Coo Coo and the twins were living it up in Iowa, I was having a time getting my ass outta the bed.

Rasta and the sun coaxed me out of the mini where I floated the day away.

We were slightly alarmed after seeing the obviously-required-by-the-codes-department-sign hanging at the pool that missed vital information…

Who’s gonna save me?

Getting ready for a bath (full of bawling my eyes out) post swim, First Mate called and saved the day. She swung by with Bota Box Rosé (seriously the best box of wine on the market at the moment) and we chit chatted and then started to binge watch the show Younger (seriously an easy-to-watch-thirty-minutes-of-fuff). And then my main TV crapped out. Did we let ruin our slumber party?

The Gulp ‘n’ Go.

Nope. We moved the cheese platter, popcorn and the pussies into the bedroom.

Our Cardboardeaux Rosé accompanied us.

Nothing like nestling in for a binge…until someone says “I just need to rest my eyes,” and it’s lights out. So First Mate saw herself out of the mini after her host rudely passed out.

Slumber party shenanigans.

Starting the newest novel by Ruth Ware, I decided it was better to get more vitamin D while reading than complete and utter darkness under the covers. Sunday Funday found me back at the pool in 95 degree heat. While I have gained 40 pounds since Rapegate, the one perk of the extra LBs has been the enhancement of my flat chest (oh and I have pride in photos and videos that make the rounds to friends).

Wallowing in the sun.

Complete package.

With must needed thirst quenchers.

Again when I was side eyeing the bath tub (Precious would sit on the toilet while I bathed – again, nothing but classy white trash), knowing it would cause a tearfest, Bird Lady happened to call and suggest a cocktail and snack outing.

When she saw me she said, “Your hair looks really great. What did you do?”

“I finally washed it.”

So fresh and so clean cocktail hour.

Thanks again from the bottom of my heart for helping this gal, who is seriously trudging through the muck of life (I mean fucking seriously, was I a serial killer in a past life?), feel loved, important and heard. Words, gestures and hugs go the longest way.

Can’t wait to see her again and Bear again. Two great loves of my life.

Take care of yourselves. Look both ways before crossing the street. Make sure you don’t fall down any stairs. Wear a floatie in the lake. Make sure that seat belt snaps. Because if you’re reading this, I love you. And my heart can take no more losses at the moment.

XOXO –

CBXB

CBXB!