Idiots guide to being a hotmess.

It’s been a hot minute. What a shame. Let’s play a little catch up.

I’m still tired. God am I tired. My list of TO DO’s is slowly growing longer and my energy to take care of it all has been depleted. I need like a month off from adulting.

I tried to walk away from the man that I loved because he wasn’t willing to commit. He wouldn’t let me. He has locked me in his house, forced me to be his girlfriend and makes it mandatory that I sleep in his bed. He also forces grilled meat and jalapeno Cheetos on me.

Downside. I feel like me trying to leave has forced him into commitment and it’s not really what he wants but he doesn’t want to lose me. Hopefully we can grow and this won’t cause us to fail in the future. All I can do is have faith and try right? I really want this to work, nothing has ever worked. I want to love and feel loved. I want a somewhat functional family to fill up all the seats at the dinner table. I want this. I want him. He’s my best friend, my person, my love. Fingers crossed.

As I age my irresponsible drinking stories don’t come as often. But you’re in luck today. The mamas decided to go out for a drink and catch up. Who knew it would become such a hotmess.

A couple of weeks ago my friend asked me to come meet her for a quick drink on a Monday night. She is a new mom and needed a break. We use to be big drinking buddies in the past. We drank like fish, ALL the time. These days, I can get wasted off 2 glasses of wine. So cut to I meet her at Bar 1 at 7:30pm. The game plan was to chat over a drink and an appetizer. Neither one of us had ate all day and we’re starving. Two sips into my high alcohol content fancy dark beer, this bitch looks and me and says “Chug that shit we’re going bar hopping.” So as a responsible adult….I do as I am told. Hop in the car with her and on to Bar 2. Bar 2, drink special: $3 mimosas. This is trouble. Order a drink, chug it, pay, onto the next place. Bar 3 is a Mexican restaurant that closes at 9. It is currently 8:45. In the 15 minutes of sitting at the bar, my friend has Spanglish shit talked the bartender about his weak pouring skills, making our $3 margaritas super strong. We order 4 drinks a piece because we’re getting cut off. The last drink has now become a To Go drink thanks to the plastic cups behind the bar. All garnished with a lime and a cherry. Get to the car, my friend vomits. Into her TO GO cup. Hops in the car and takes me back to mine. I am now on the mission for food. You know, what I should have eaten hours ago to prevent this intoxication. Keep in mind it is now only 9:00 pm. How did I get wasted this fast? I drunk call the sushi place down the street and order a spicy tuna roll and a bowl of miso soup. I’ll shove it in my face on the ride home. Pick up the food, not sure if I have even paid but at least I walked out with 30 chopsticks. On the ride home I try to drink my soup. Key word. TRY. Keep in mind that I drive a low rider car that makes a small bump in the road feel like you just drove over an entire mountain. Called King daddy to let him know that if I’m not home in 15 minutes then I’m dead and make him aware of my soup drinking struggle. “It keeps fighting back, but I will prevail.” I flung hot soup all over myself and the entire car for the whole ride home. Why did I not just put the damn soup down? No clue. I was going to finish that bowl of soup one way or another. It’s been 17 minutes, King daddy calls. In distress I let him know that I’m coming down the drive way, covered in soup. Park the car, and my door opens. It’s king daddy with his phone flash light on. How sweet of him to open the door and bring a light to help me in the house right? WRONG. He was recording me falling out of my car, with soup soaking every inch of my shirt, pants and seat. I go inside, strip all my soupy clothes off. (BTW I couldn’t find those clothes for a week) and sit on the bed and proceed to force feed myself and King daddy sushi. I’m a boss with these chopsticks. He can’t stop laughing. I try to crawl on top of him and I’m immediately hit with the spinney world syndrome. I fall asleep to “You left here at 730, you were home by 930, How in the hell did you get this drunk?” See what had happen wassss….

I’m a hotmess. It’s what you love about me the most.

FYI I’ll try to do better with keeping up with my blog. Writing keeps me sane. Even if it is about nothing and everything.


Missed you guys, Stay classy Assholes!



Put that booty on my Gucci belt.

I imagine if you were to take a peek inside my mind, it would look like something on the show Hoarders. Chaos. Shit everywhere. Not one organized thought. I’ve got so much on my mind and every time I try to express myself I feel like I am not getting my point through. Typing it out seems to help. So here goes nothing….

I’m fucking tired. I’m in a fog. I could sleep for 3 days and still be tired. I’m falling asleep at work in the middle of phone calls with customer service. I’m not sleeping at night because I lay there and stare at the ceiling wishing, wanting, waiting…. Plus side is I’m not eating that much either cause I’m too tired and I always feel so sick on my stomach. Yay for unhealthy weight loss.

Also work can go choke on a bag of dicks. The bullshit that I have had to deal with all week is above my pay grade. Every time I close my eyes all I see is numberssssss. Save me I’m drowning in patient accounts.

I was brought up being taught that if something was wrong, you stfu and kept it to yourself. I had no voice, the only expression you could really have is the fake smile I had to give my father when he came home from work. My family doesn’t say “I love you” unless some serious shit is going on. I have a problem with confrontation with men due to the fact that I spent a good majority of my time with my head down, arms behind my back, and a bitter man yelling down at me. I tried talking to someone about some things going on between us that was bothering me and the entire time I felt guilt. I felt like I was becoming a burden because I wasn’t happy about something. I felt like It was all my fault. I just want to unapologically express myself but all these insecurities won’t get out of my way.

I’ve got it bad for King Daddy. Yeah you know the man I was supposed to just have fun with and not catch any feelings? Well those little feeling fuckers bit me hard. And I knew it would be like this the first time I sat on my couch and talked to him. Him and his girls feel so much like home to me. I have cried for 8 fucking years about just wanting to be able to feel what it’s like to have a complete family, and they have given me all of that. I feel so full. But….the deeper I find myself falling the more my insecurities start coming out into the light. You know all those ones I have such a problem talking out loud about. I want him, just him. I have wasted so much of my time trying to force myself to talk to other men to avoid getting caught so deep in him. Doesn’t work. Just trying to carry on casual phone conversation makes me feel sick. I haven’t wanted to, or even wanting to think about going to bed with another man. It doesn’t feel right anymore. I’m just his friend. That one word has been like a giant cement wall prohibiting me from communicating any kind of feelings and future. The fact of him hooking up other women didn’t bother me. What really bothered me was the fact that these weren’t just hookups. He was having full on relationships with these women and I felt like they were sitting around like a lost love sick puppy just like me. Which makes me feel like I’m just part of the rotation and Im going to get dropped like a pile of rocks whenever he finds what he really wants. That breaks my fucking heart. Having to distance myself from him and his kids would kill me. I’m in way too deep and it’s fucking scary. But here’s the thing… He’s been married for 10 years did the whole love, baby carriage, heart break, divorce situation. Why would having me in his life other than just a friend even be a thought for him? See here’s comes the guilt. I feel guilty for wanting to be selfish with him. I can’t help it. I want him. The good, the bad, the past, the future, and definitely the beer belly. I want to know how he feels…..


You’ve ruined me in the best kind of way. You’re my best friend. I have never had so much fun with someone in my life. Please stay with me.

Stay Classy Assholes



I’ve seen more spine in jellyfish.

It’s one of those “I’m going to spend my break crying in the car” kind of days. It’s like the weight of the world has been tugging me down all day. I feel so insignificant and small. I don’t feel beautiful and I don’t remember the last time that I did. I’m physically, and emotionally tired. I’m too old to feel this unaccomplished. UGH. I don’t feel like adulting today.

Happy Birthday to me. Stay Classy assholes.

All my drinks and all my feelings are all mixed.

Someone told me something the other day that physically made me sick. It’s like their words wrapped around my heart and squeezed it so hard I could barely breathe. These words left me feeling small, insignificant and used. I find it crazy that I let such a thing consume my emotions. I was angry, I was hurt, and then I tried to convince myself that I didn’t care. I care too much and I don’t want to because that my friend is how you get your heart broken. I don’t want to get hurt. I just want to love and be loved. It’s just a phase right?

Fuck those feelings, stay classy assholes.

Who are you and why are you in my house?

I think some people just need to take a break from adulthood and go back to their mama’s house and get taught a few things over again. Because honestly, what the fuck is wrong with people. Why do they lack so much common sense.

Can we talk about “staying with a friend for a few days”

  •  First off it’s never “a few days.”
    If they start talking about having plans with you next week, that means they plan on still living with you next week. “a few days” easily transforms into 2 months.
  • The boyfriend will always be tagging along. He will also want to eat your food and drink your beer.
  • Fuck him. Don’t let him have shit.
  • “If the light bill goes up I’ll throw you some money”
  • You won’t ever see anything but their shit laying all over your house.
  • Is that my fucking shirt you’re wearing?
  • Are they seriously fucking in my house? Just don’t do it, it’s rude and I don’t wanna lay in bed at night listening to that shit.
  • No you can’t invite friends over to drink a few beers.
  • Well fuck. I guess I better start paying you rent now cause apparently you think this is your fucking house.


Get the fuck out. Now.

But stay classy you fucking assholes.

I’m not the girl…

I’m not the girl you fall in love with.
I’m the girl that helps you fall in love with yourself. I’ll be there when you’re at your lowest, to help build you up and feed you words of encouragement all along the way.

I’m the girl that will always be your best friend because I know how to put a smile on your face. I will always take care of you, even when the care isn’t wanted.

I’m the girl that’s In love with you, but I’m not the girl you will fall in love with. 
It’s ok. I’m the girl that will take whatever of you I can have.



Lack of D in my life. Vitamin D.

Bye Bye Winter depression. The warm weather is coming and I am more than ready. I have a whole line up of concerts from April till July. Outdoor venues, cold beer and dancing hippies. Doesn’t really matter if I end up going alone, it’s going to be heavenly. Ready to spend every weekend working out in the yard or on the beach, with a fruity drink and a dark tan. These are the things that keep a smile on my face. Vitamin D overload and adventures.

Get ready to put your party pants on and stay classy assholes.

Babygirl, you got this.


Never feel pathetic for the love that you give just because it isn’t returned. You are rare because the harsh world hasn’t ruined your heart yet.  You’ll meet someone one day that will take in all of you and appreciate you for everything that you are.

Keep your head up, your heart full and always stay classy you beautiful, fucking asshole. ❤