Rain, rain go away.

It has been raining here for what feels like years. I loathe the rain. It’s terrible. It brings down my mood, I suck at driving in it, and it might as well be snowing if it’s gonna rain in the winter.

Last night a guy at the bar was trying to hit on my friend and I heard him say “I’ve really missed the rain.” I turn around quick because I immediately assume he must be a crazy creeper. Then he said, “I’ve been in the desert deployed for awhile and I haven’t seen rain since the day I left the USA.”

Then I felt like an asshole. I’ve been walking around with a gloomy attitude because of the dreary rain while this guy sits in the Middle East and misses the rain.

This random at the bar helped me put my life into perspective. So, I guess I’m good with rain now.. basically.

(Secretly praying for sunshine)

Blaire 💞

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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.

Kisses.

Blaire 💞💞💞💞

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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 ❤️

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Dermatologist

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 ☠️

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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.

BLAIRE💞

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Beautiful Facebook.

Facebook is the best thing ever invented. I, no joke, canceled my cable tv subscription because Facebook was filling all my drama desires indefinitely.

Luckily for me, I have a unique group of Facebook friends. Every single one of them providing me with a little something to get me through the workweek. There’s my religious family for starters. They love to throw out comments about the devilish ways the other family members are living. I contemplate deleting them on a regular basis, but can’t bring myself to actually give up my first row seat to the lashes they toss at one another.

Then we have our Facebook friends that just can’t put the party life behind them. No judgment, of course, I get it (way more than I should). I’m just saying, people should be more clever with their drunken Facebook posts. Screenshots are a thing now, didn’t you know? People like myself (that lack a real life) take screenshots of all wild posts for safe keeping. That way, when sobriety hits and you press delete I still have those memories. And who could forget our Facebook friends that do not recognize that Facebook isn’t Twitter. I do not need a play by play commentary of the football game that the world is watching on television. Do us all a favor and get a Twitter. As a fellow Facebook friend, I do not care what you thought about that fumble or the referee’s inability to make a worthwhile call.

Hands down though, my absolute favorite Facebook friends are my friends that use Facebook as a diary. I sit front row with a big bowl of popcorn (covered in salt) and spend hours reading each sappy, feeling-ridden post. By all means, call out your baby daddy for his wrongdoings, tell your boss what a moron he really is, and take it upon yourself to judge the way others are living. I can’t get enough. I’ve found myself bursting out laughing in my room alone on multiple occasions reading your Facebook diary. I thank you for that.

Facebook friends, keep being you. Don’t change, don’t edit your posts, and certainly don’t think twice before commenting on a status you feel passionate about.

You are the real winners,

Blaire

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