New Yearโ€™s Resolution= half complete ๐Ÿด๐Ÿ’ž

I went horseback riding today. Honestly, kinda anticlimactic. I think I watched too many old cowboy shows growing up. In my head they were going to give me a lasso and cowgirl boots and leave me in the wilderness till morning.

Instead, I rode a fat horse around in a circle on a field of dead grass.

Did I mention my fat horse was disorderly? Her hobbies included eating in the middle of the tour and smelling the poop of all the other horses. How typical.

I think the horse knew I was considering a 3 star review because she suddenly started sprinting and I swear to God I almost fell right off the damn horse. Fatty could run! I simply didnโ€™t see that coming. She truly provided the kind of adventure I was seeking.

All in all, it was a great time.

Blaire ๐Ÿด๐Ÿ’‹

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Be nice to your friends

Last night we went out for one of my best friend’s birthday parties. I couldn’t wait. My friend, Anna, looks forward to her birthday all year & I wanted it to be perfect for her.

Sabrina & I met up with Anna for frozen yogurt before the night’s festivities & I already knew something was up. I can read people well and Anna was being stand-off ish. I told myself that she was probably just sleepy and carried on with preparations for her birthday celebration.

When the three of us met up to get ready, Anna was acting weird again. I tried to ask her what was wrong & she gave me short, rude answers. I sat there racking my brain… what had happened? I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I put on my outfit for the night & that’s when things took a turn for the worse. Anna told me I looked stupid and ugly. She told me that she didn’t know why I’d think it’d be okay to wear the outfit that I always wear. She told me that cotton isn’t fancy enough for her birthday.

Y’all might not find the things she said to be hurtful, but they hit me hard. I went upstairs to “do my hair” and sat in the bathroom with tears in my eyes.

Ya know what– Anna, you’re a cunt. Don’t treat others poorly. Especially people that care about you.

She’s lucky I’m not the violent type. May have slapped her across her damn face.

Secretly, my feelings are still hurt ๐Ÿ’”

Grrrr.

Blaire ๐Ÿ’‹

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Iโ€™m always right #hypochondria

Well, itโ€™s official. My hypochondriac ways finally paid off.

Remember my blog about the spot on my head that the doctor and my husband felt was a mole? Remember me telling those ding dongs that i felt it was something more? Remember me having it removed against their advice? Remember their judgmental ass looks when I stated that I really felt something was wrong??

Well guess the fuck what? IT WAS A TUMOR. Yes, read that twice. A. FUCKING. TUMOR.

Pardon my language yโ€™all, but this is a serious ass matter. That tumor could have caused me a lot of issues. But, I knew it. I knew it was bad. I know my body. I know me, mother fuckers.

I waited for my husband to come home from work and I yelled โ€œI WAS RIGHT. Iโ€™M ALWAYS RIGHT!โ€ Then I bent over so he could kiss my cute little ass.

Kisses.

Blaire ๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’ž๐Ÿ’ž

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New Year Eve Party Anxiety

I’d never tell anyone this, but I get anxious when I think about going to a party without my husband or another trusted male. So weird, I know. My 73 best girl friends can be going to the party, but if my husband or a trusted male isn’t there, I’m still uncomfortable.

No, nothing ever happened. No, I don’t know why. It has just always been this way for me. Daddy issues? Shit, maybe.

I’m currently debating texting one of my trusted male friends to see if he’s going to be at the party. He will absolutely think it’s weird that I’m reaching out to him but I don’t care because it’ll put my mind at ease.

Yes, I get this is ridiculous. I’m a work in progress. Hate it or love it, this is how I act.

I’ve made Jell-O shots and buffalo chicken dip for the party. Let’s face it, i know how to have a great time.

Love me even though I’m crazy?

Blaire โค๏ธโค๏ธโค๏ธ

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Christian Overdoseย 

Just the other day, my brother overdosed and somehow convinced my parents that he has epilepsy.

 I know what you’re thinking– impossible. How? Why? Are you being serious? 

I’m here to tell you that I am. My brother snorted pills for 72 hours straight and it finally caught up with him. Oh, and he somehow lived to tell about it. Way to go, bro!  

My parents went to the grocery store and when they came home they found one of my brother’s friends screaming that my brother had died. 

My parents, being the Bible toting Christians that they are, ran right to his rescue. They called 911 and attempted to get his pulse back. 911 arrived just as my brother started convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Nevertheless, my sweet, innocent, charming brother was able to muster up enough strength to become disorderly with the first responders because he didn’t like them touching his drugs. Ladies and gentlemen, there’s no shame in his game! 

My brother goes into back to back seizures and yet his friend swears that he knew nothing about the drugs he took. The first responders tell my brother’s friend that my brother will die if he continues to withhold the truth, he remained silent. What an awesome friend! 

The first responders were able to pry a baggie of pills from my brother’s hand and use a smart phone app to see what he took. Yay technology! Luckily I’m not a first responder, I don’t know if I’d have been so quick to help people that didn’t want help. Keeping it real, y’all! 

He was then transported to the hospital. Once the doctors were able to bring him back to reality, my brother told my parents that he didn’t take any drugs and this was all a misunderstanding. Although there was concrete evidence to say otherwise, my parents have chosen to believe my brother. They are even taking him for additional testing to confirm an epilepsy diagnosis. What wonderful Christians! I’m looking forward to visiting never.

I’m surrounded by idiots. 

Xoxo,

Blaire ๐Ÿ’‹๐Ÿ’„

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I sleep with stuffed animals

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I turned 26 years old this year– I have two degrees, a challenging job, and a good looking husband. And somehow, someway I still sleep nightly with 3 stuffed animals. Hello, daddy issues. Am I right? If you’re nodding your head and smirking right now then you’ve met someone crazy like me before. You’re probably thinking of a bat shit crazy ex-girlfriend or that wild best friend you had in college that you always knew was a little off.

I could sit down right now and tell you every little thing that has ever went wrong in my life and I still cannot account for my inability to put my stuffed animals in the past. My mom used to always joke that I wouldn’t give those stuffed animals up till the day I got married. Well, uhh, I have been married for years and still I sleep with them. Yes, they have names: Puffy, Puffilump, and Ruff. The first two were named when I got them on the day I was born. The third one was named by my drunk friend at a party.

Honestly and truly, I cannot begin to tell you why I can’t fall asleep without them. No, I do not believe they talk or have feelings. But, then again, I still get upset if I see one absentmindedly tossed on the floor.

Help?

Blaire ๐ŸŽ€

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The internet cured me, again.

fullsizerender-2The other night I started researching the best ways to cure stomach pain. About 1 million different things came up. So there I sat with 1 million answers to my simple little question. I reasoned that the best way to choose which one to use would be to see which one would make me the happiest.

I sat there for a minute thinking and decided that taking a warm bath on that cold evening would make me feel wonderful. So I googled “bath that will cure stomach pain.” And you’ll never guess that I got a billion search results. I decided to go with the first one that popped up– bathing in baking soda. The idea seemed far fetched and harmful to my health… then it seemed so far fetched that it could potentially work. And, shoot, what did I have to lose?

So, I started the water and carelessly tossed baking soda around in the tub. I put on Jason Aldean’s new cd and I climbed on in. I set a timer on my phone for 20 minutes (that’s what the Internet advised) and began my 20 minute, baking soda filled relaxation.

It’s probably all in my crazy little mind, but my stomach was cured the second the timer rang. Well, the Internet knows things or I’m nuttier than I originally thought.

From,
Hypochondriac Blaire ๐Ÿ’•

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