Drunk before noon

I was white girl wasted before noon yesterday. I know what you’re thinking, I’m out of control. Yup.

My college roommate is getting married and I’m a bridesmaid. She doesn’t live near me though, so whenever we see each other we go all out. Her bachelorette party was Friday & Saturday in Maryland. Since I don’t drive on the interstate, my husband and his buddies decided to come and play golf nearby where i needed to be. Hello, ride.

Friday night we went to the Yankees game. It was fun, even though I don’t follow baseball. We drank, we laughed, we talked about old times. It was the best. 

Saturday morning at 9:00am we decided to go to a bottomless brunch before departing back to our respective states. Here’s where the trouble started– bottomless mimosas. I simply don’t possess the self control needed to just have one or two. So I had 5 or 6.. maybe 10? I lost count after 5. I was having the best time. 

After brunch, we decided to go to a bar– bad idea #2. We ordered multiple bottles of wine. And I made it my personal goal to drink glasses from each bottle. I simply didn’t want to miss out on everything Maryland had to offer.

By the time my husband and his buddies came to pick me up, I was drunk as hell. I’m laughing, being brutally honest, and telling everyone that will listen that my college roommate is my best fucking friend. 

I ran into a group of elderly people on their way to attend a wedding and I couldn’t stop complimenting their attire. I hope they were flattered by my drunk self. I meant every single word. 

What my drunk self didn’t realize was that the ride home was going to take eternity. I hop in the backseat of my car, fireball whiskey in hand, and turn on my Apple Music. 

Not even an hour into the drive, I realize that I’m going to puke. We pull over on the side of the interstate and I sprint into the woods. Don’t ask why. I’m not sure. But I sprint, fast. I slip into a ditch filled with water and then proceeded to puke. So much puke. The boys chased me into the woods. I tell them to leave me there… on the side of the interstate in Maryland. Real smart, I know. 

Somehow they got my little self back in the car. And somehow, someway we made it home. Only took 6 long, dreadful hours.

I don’t know why my husband stays with my crazy ass. Must be my good looks. 

I’m holding a glass of water, 

Blaire 🖤


Grandma died while I watched. 

I watched my grandma suffocate to death. There I said it. That wasn’t so bad, was it? 

Grandma was having trouble breathing one afternoon and was taken to the hospital by my mom and aunt. A few days later, we were told she wouldn’t live much longer. 

The doctor came in to evaluate grandma. He said she’d be fine for another couple of days. He advised my family members to go home and rest. He said that I could sit with grandma in the meantime. 

They left. I sat with my mom. Grandma suffocated. She was DNR. There was nothing we could do. It felt like a bad episode of Grey’s Anatomy. 

Well, guess grandma won’t be judging my lifestyle anymore. 

That was rude, I know. 

Blaire 💋


baby shower disaster

My good friend Sabrina and I went to a baby shower yesterday. It was one of those baby showers that are straight from Pinterest. Every last detail was handcrafted and adorable. I contemplated taking pictures to post on Pinterest several times. It was that cute. And just know, nothing that involves a baby is typically cute to me. The very thought of a baby makes me cringe.

Sabrina and I went over to the onesie decorating station. Yes, that’s a thing. The station was a small, square table covered in about 50 white onesies. We sat down across from each other and we both begin decorating with the provided paints and fabric markers. Sabrina reached to grab the teal paint and accidentally knocked over her entire glass of red punch. In doing so, she was able to single-handedly ruin the onesie station.

We apologized and made a quick exit. We plan to tie-dye the red blotchy onesies and bring them back to the mom-to-be. No harm no foul. They will be cuter this way anyway.

Honestly, I’m just glad it wasn’t me.

Blaire 🦋💙


My workout rewards are flawed 

My main issue with working out is that I like to reward myself for a job well done. I know what you’re thinking, rewards are good because they will keep me motivated. You’re absolutely right. Well, you would be if I didn’t use a flawed reward system. 

Here’s 3 examples of how I fail at working out.

1) Yesterday, I completed a cardio workout on my treadmill and a kickboxing workout video. Afterwards, I jumped in my car and drove to Chick-fil-A. I ordered a number one with no pickles and a sweet tea. I remembered my great workout and found myself saying, “make that a large combo!” 

2) I woke up early on Monday to complete a work out. I reached my calorie burn goal for the day immediately following the work out, therefore I sat on my couch the rest of the day and watched Grey’s Anatomy reruns. 

3) Today, I completed an intense cardio workout, walked a mile, and did 50 squats and 50 sit ups. Now I feel like I should have tomorrow off since I did such a good job.

The struggle is real. 

Accept me for me,

Typical Blaire 💛


What the heart wants ❤️

For starters, I wasn’t really that wild as an adolescent. Mainly because I was afraid of how my parents would react if I put even my pinky toe out of line. I figured they’d ship me off to boarding school, or the Christian Academy down the street like they threatened to do on a regular basis.

But, let’s face it, a girl can only stay well-behaved for so long at 15. I started to become attracted to the bad boys. I think it was because I thought they were everything I wasn’t or perhaps it was their hot attitude problems. Whatever it was, I ended up dating a guy named Franklin who was an absolute bad boy.
We were, uhh, quite the match. I got great grades and he beat up boys that looked in my direction too long. I went to field hockey practice and he smoked weed in the woods nearby. It was all fun and games till Franklin caught a felony and found himself in jail and then on house arrest.

Fast forward 10 years and now I’m married to a super attractive, loving cop named Ricky. Ricky follows the rules, obsesses over me, and stays calm in all situations. My 15 year old self never saw this shit coming and honestly, nor did I.

The heart wants what it wants,

Blaire 👮🏼❤️


Hello, 2017 💜

I’ve been to loud rowdy clubs, I’ve danced on bars, and I’ve stayed long after last call. But now I’m 26 and I’m starting to get my life together, sorta.

This year I made the super mature decision to have a group of friends over with a variety of liquors that created an awesome night that I’ll never remember. && I’m more than okay with that.

From the comfort of my kitchen table, I was able to consume trashy shots, laugh till my stomach hurt, and enjoy the last bit of 2016 with the best people you’ll ever met.

2017, give me all you’ve got.

Blaire 🌸