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 💔


Blaire 💋


I’m always right #hypochondria

Well, it’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 y’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 “I WAS RIGHT. I’M ALWAYS RIGHT!” Then I bent over so he could kiss my cute little ass.


Blaire 💞💞💞💞


What’s in the cookies?!

Today I went over to my parent’s house for dinner. This is a rarity, so they really tried to make it nice.

When i walk into the house, I see fresh baked peanut butter cookies on the stove. YUM. Without asking, i dig right in. The cookies are slap-your-grandma delicious! I can’t get enough of them. Once I’m about 3 cookies deep, my brother starts laughing. He’s like, “hahaha, mom, tell her what’s in them.”

And I’m immediately livid because I’m thinking they put something real stupid in these cookies. I tell them that I will be pissed if they put weed in the cookies because i have a real job that simply isn’t cool with that.

They continue to laugh & my mind continues to race. What the heck is in these cookies??

Apparently, they ran out of milk when making the cookies and decided to add Dunkin’ Donuts creamer instead. No harm, no foul. The cookies were delicious.

I hope they run out of milk from here on out.

Blaire 🍪


The time I was called a lesbian.

When I was in middle school, I got my first school best friend. She was the best. She was popular, funny, cute, everything i ever imagined a best friend would be.

I was in a challenging time in my life but I knew that when I got to school nothing else mattered because my school best friend would have my back.

One day I walked into math class and one of my peers accused me & school bestie of being lesbians. I was horrified. I didn’t want people thinking that. I didn’t even want to hear the word. At that time, I thought being a lesbian was something you had to be ashamed of. I was mortified.

I cried in my bed at night for weeks following this accusation. Me? A lesbian? Why me? I couldn’t shake it. I hated myself for starting a friendship that would even remotely resemble a lesbian relationship.

Y’all, if I could go back in time, I’d slap that kid across his ugly face for calling me a lesbian. I’d then turn to my school bestie and make-out with her in front of the whole damn class. Being a lesbian is not something to be ashamed of. It’s not something you call someone to make them feel bad. && even though I wasn’t a lesbian, I should never have felt so negatively about being thought of as one. Stupid middle school kids that were mean to me, I’m flicking you off right now. Stop being ignorant and grow the hell up.

Choose love.

Blaire ❤️



Today I went to the dermatologist about a spot on the back of my head. Luckily for me, the spot is covered by my hair. However, after years of being there, it started growing and itching so I made my appointment. Can’t risk getting cancer this young, I still have SO many wild nights ahead of me. Let’s face it, the tequila needs me.

Anyway, the dermatologist thought the spot looked fine but I told him I wanted it removed. Here’s the thing, my husband was there and he didn’t like the thought of having it removed. WHY, BRO? The spot isn’t on your head. The spot isn’t trying to ruin your life by growing into a damn unicorn horn.

You guessed right, I had it removed despite his unwarranted opinion. My head, my body, my choice. Can you tell I’m still grumpy about it? UGH.

Till next time,

Evil Blaire ☠️


Marry Me.

I’m currently obsessed with Thomas Rhett’s song “Mary Me.” The first time I heard it, i almost cut it off. Who wants to listen to a song about the perfect dream wedding? Not me. Barf.

As I reached to change the radio station, I heard the line “but she don’t wanna marry me” and I feel right in love.

The song plays on the fear of so many of us– the love of your life marrying someone else. I lived for years with this exact fear. I feared I’d end up alone & my ex would live happily ever after married to Mrs. Right.

I encourage you to get on YouTube & listen to the song. It’s nothing short of amazing.

Oh, and for the record, I didn’t end up alone or with my ex. In fact, I found Mr. Right & my ex is looking like he’ll be alone for the rest of his life. & trust me, he deserves it.

I have “Marry Me” on repeat.



Ladies, stand up for yourselves.

Last night I watched one of my friends cry hysterically over her husband. He has moved out of her house and has stopped taking her calls and doesn’t hang out with her. She hangs on to the thought of getting back together because every so often he says he “loves” her.

I can understand being upset. The situation sounds terrible. Here’s what I don’t understand— I don’t understand why other women at the party told her that it’s okay that her husband treats her this way.

Ladies, it’s not okay. Stand up for yourselves. Don’t be pathetic. You do not need a man.

Y’all got me rowdy already this morning thinking about this nonsense.

Ladies, learn to love yourself.

Blaire ⭐️