Cat Problems 

This morning I shut my cat’s tail in the microwave. Naturally, I apologized to her for 20 minutes while giving her treats. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much to say on the situation.

When I arrived home from work today, she snuggled against my leg. Guess that means she forgives me…. or, she wants more treats.

Meow, 

Blaire 💜🐱

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Locked out of my house 💅🏼

Today I got locked out of my own house. Ya see, I got excited because I was going to get a pedicure. Naturally, I ran out of the house and didn’t even think twice about the keys needed to drive the car to the nail place. I realize almost immediately what I had done. I sat for a minute on the porch holding my purse and phone and really pondered my options. I could break a window, but that just seemed dramatic. So I decided to search the outside of the house for our old spare key. During this process my feet got covered with mud. Whatever though, needed to get into the house. 

Failed to get into the house. Sat on the porch. Sat on the porch some more. Called my friend and told her to pick me up. She shows up, we drive around. I call my husband and told him to leave work to let me in the house. He does. 

Long story short, we found the keys. They were in the purse I was holding the entire time. 

Typical Blaire, I know. 

Oh, and when I finally got to the nail place, I put my feet into the water and the water turned brown. Darn mud. 

Whyyyyyyyy. 

Love you. 

❤️ Blaire 

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Christian Overdose 

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 💋💄

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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 🎀

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Too much information, I know.

This is going to be too much information–I get that. I created this to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So, here it goes.

Recently, my husband and our two friends decided that we were going to plan a trip to Costa Rica for summer 2017. (I’ll blog about that later) Being the obsessive people that we are, we began planning every single solitary detail. And I mean every detail. Right down to shaving areas where the sun doesn’t shine. My friend going with us, Sabrina, chimed in that it would be a good idea for the girls to get Brazilian waxes before leaving. This is something I had never even considered doing, ever. I pondered the idea in my head for a few days and then I decided— why the hell not?

I’m not the bravest person on the planet when it comes to nudity. So, I couldn’t bring myself to get it professionally done because that’s awkward, way too awkward. The thought of the awkwardness has me cringing as I type. I just couldn’t manage. So I turned to the only person that I know of that would be comfortable waxing that region… my husband.

If you’ve met my husband before, you just spit out your drink. You know with 100% certainty that Ricky told me no. But, that’s just it, he didn’t tell me no. He said it was worth a shot.

Like any normal human, we turned to the Internet to get educated. YouTube had a lot to offer on the subject. After about 2 hours, we were basically licensed professionals. We set a date to put our new professionalism into fruition and I began the growing process. For those of you that don’t know (it was a surprise to me as well), your hair has to be a certain length for waxing to be effective.

On the night of the waxing, I was excited. I was confident that this would be easy. The process started out perfectly. I could write a how-to-blog right now on how to properly prepare and begin the waxing process. And that’s about all I could write because what I didn’t see coming was the pain. Ricky pulled off the first bit of wax and I screamed. I screamed so loud that I’m certain the neighbors heard. In fact, the human language has failed on providing words to describe that sort of pain. I guess I’ll have to compare it to an exorcism—with my hair being the demon that needed removing. I was screaming and my back was lifting itself up towards the sky. Suddenly I was laughing uncontrollably, crying, and screaming some more. To be honest, I’m disappointed that my neighbors didn’t call the cops after hearing all that screaming. I could have been being murdered, that’s what it sounded like anyway.

Needless to say, we weren’t able to finish.

I’m still recovering,

Blaire

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Fighting over turkey. 

Drama always finds a way of showing its face during thanksgiving with my family. No matter how hard my family tries, drama transpires. This year was no exception. 
Due to a series of unfortunate events brought on by utter stupidity, my youngest brother and my father were unable to attend our thanksgiving feast at Golden Corral. I considered not going myself since my family decided not to be bothered with cooking and instead fighting the crowds at the local Golden Corral. But, per usual, I took one for the team and showed up.

Much to my surprise, my family was pleasant. In fact the only negative comment made was from my eldest brother stating that he plans on throwing a party when our mother’s dog dies. Apparently, he secretly hates her dog and felt thanksgiving was an appropriate time to let everyone know. How very logical, thanks for that bro. 

All was going better than planned when we decided to proceed home. I grabbed my little niece, she’s 3, and proceeded to lead the line of family members to the door. 

I’d almost successfully lead the family through the crowds to the door when it happened. A full out fist fight breaks out. Screaming, yelling, and punches being thrown right by the meat carving station. I know turkey is serious, I get that, but fighting in the Golden Corral is a new level of low. The main issue though, stemmed from the crowds of people. We were stuck. Stuck with front row tickets to a brawl we never thought we would be attending. Like I said earlier, drama finds my family on thanksgiving every single solitary year. 

Strictly between us, I’m proud that my family was able to resist the urge to jump into that fight. I’m thankful for that. 

My life has never been dull, 
Blaire 

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