National Coffee Day and the Seventh Circle of Hell

Apparently I’m going to have two Monday’s this week. See yesterday’s post for reference…

Morning’s in my house make me want to become a real deal, alcoholic. Full on committed. None of this a beer after a long day at work bullshit. Like full on, drink out of a square bottle because the round ones roll away, alcoholic. .

My children. Those precious little beings that destroyed my vagina and sanity, are terrorists Monday- Friday at precisely 7:15 AM when it’s time to leave for school and work. It’s clock work. It’s as guaranteed as a bird shitting on my recently washed car. This morning for instance, my five year old was in mass hysteria because I put his english muffin on the table. Yep. Because how dare I remove it from the toaster, slather it in peanut butter, and cut into cute little shapes for him? He doesn’t LIKE his spot at the table any more. He NEEDS his brother’s spot at the table.

I lit the whole fucking table on fire.

Then my bestie, like she can see my mental white flag being waved in the air, text me that it was national coffee day. She has always been my voice of reason. But me.. .being the negative nancy that I am, responded with this…


Because again, I am committed to this whole alcoholic thing. I’m no quitter.

Also, I’m not currently drinking coffee SO while normally this would be a whole lot like celebrating my birthday, now it’s like it was created just to mock me. I don’t miss coffee, since I have my spark, but I miss the IDEA of coffee.

I’m holding fast. I will not give in. Not to the terrorists or to the nectar of the gods.

Instead I will go home, lock myself in a closet, pour some whiskey in my sippy cup and self soothe.. Also.. I’ll look into getting a new table.

Because after all, I have standards people.

Update to 7 mintues later: I gave in. I have no standards. Zero fucks will be given. This triple shot americano with sugar free coconut is sex in my mouth. YOLO. (for the record, I don’t seriously use the word YOLO except to mock anyone who thinks they can say it and be taken seriously… sort of like flat billed hats).


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Heaven and Ice

Just look at it…LOOK. AT. IT.



Put it in and around my mouth.

It’s summer in a glass, on this cold Fall day. I’m already in denial.

It started innocently enough. I just felt like some iced tea. Then I had some peach mixer and obviously peach ice tea sounded way better than regular ice tea. Then I had some Honey Jack too.. and well, alcohol always sounds better than non-alcoholic. So I decided we needed to have a little orgy of delight right here in this little glass.

This is what you need…


Look I even made it pretty for you guys. Believe me, ANY time I’m in the kitchen it’s a drunken fucking tornado. So don’t take this effort lightely.

Recipe below!


Peach Mixer (or any flavor if you want to switch it up)
Home Brewed Sweet Tea- If you don’t have a recipe, just ask.
Fresh Lemon
Honey Jack


FIll glass 3/4 way full with icel
Do two-three good globs of Peach Mixer depending on your taste
Squeeze of fresh lemon wedge
2-3 ounces of Honey jack (or 4-5 in my case)
FIll the rest with sweet tea.
Give a good stir and try not to stroke out from the goodness.

Quick, light, and refreshing! That’s what she said… never.

Enjoy kids!


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Whiskey and Wreaths

So, I’ve started making wreaths.

Random, I know.

I see them on Pinterest on these perfect little doorsteps which undoubtedly leads into a perfect little entry way with a perfect little family playing a cordial game of Monopoly where no toddlers are biting anyone’s ankles and no one’s mother is drunk in the kitchen mixing jack and RC cola in her coffee cup. Let’s take a minute to acknowledge that the biggest joke out of that statement is a “cordial game of Monopoly”. Does that ever really happen? Monopoly in my house growing up went a little something like this…

At any given moment things like this would be whispered awkwardly in your ear… by my grandmother…


The second someone ran out of money…


Anywhoo, wreaths.

I debated on just ordering one off of Etsy, because there are TONS of adorbs ones. But none really tickled my pickle. So I decided to wing it and head to the craft store, never thought that sentence would come out of my mouth. It’s not even close to the liquor store…

I got the essentials, a wreath frame, but naturally since I knew nothing about wreaths I got one of each available. A foam, a grapevine, and a wire wreath. Then got some burlap, flowers, a hot glue gun (because again, I’ve never even attempted to be this domestic) and a few other random things.

After looking on Pinterest the foam wreath and stabbing my fingers 72 times trying to pin fabric to it I decided this is probably what they made Martha use in prison as punishment.

This thing is the devils craft, do you understand? Just walk away.


This is your friend. Trust me.


So after about 3 glasses of Honey Jack daniels this was my end result


Now, I thought it was okay, but not totally thrilled with it. But after sharing with some friends, I now have about 12 wreaths to make for other peeps! So that means another 17 trips to the craft store because I really had no idea what or how much of anything I needed. Then one more trip to the liquor store, because I know exactly what and how much of that I need. I wish they had punch cards…

I’ve gotten MUCH better and figured out some little hacks to making the wreaths look fuller, and take a little less time. Here’s one from yesterday I made for someone..


AND I’ve started this one, but ran out of burlap.. .because again, I have no idea what I’m doing…


It’s a punkin’!!!

I’ll be opening an Etsy store soon, so all you lovelies will be able to purchase custom wreaths soon! I can also throw up a tutorial to help y’all make some of these bad boys yo’ self if ya’ll want.

I think I’ll spend more Saturday’s with whiskey and wreaths.

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Half Ass Meal Prep

I tried meal prepping for like a week… annnnd 5 out of 7 meals end up not getting any further than a tupperware container pushed to the back of my fridge.

I saw this on’s blog. She is hilarious. Go check her out.


So I invented Meg’s way of meal prepping, also known as the half ass way. Now let me be clear, I don’t half ass anything. I’m in no way lazy, but to put it simpy, I’m practical. I know that if I eat the same exact meal for 2-3 days in a row… it’s not going to sound appealing the other 4-5 days. Instead I make enough of each food group I’m focusing on to interchange them.

This last Saturday I decided to do some hardcore Julia Child shit in my kitchen. I threw some frozen chicken breasts in my crock pot. I still don’t understand why I don’t have my own food network show.

I literally took 4 chicken breasts, splashed in like 4-5 “globs” of chicken broth and then one decent size pour of salsa. Okay, okay, I also threw in some seasoning. But I don’t remember exactly which ones I used. It was whichever ones didn’t require me to get the damn step stool to find.

Then I got real crazy and cooked some turkey burger.

THEN I went totally ape shit and made a whole bunch of tuna salad (with vegenaise)

So what I do, is not meal prepping. It’s packing my damn lunch. But nonetheless, this gives me a few quick options on nights I would rather have whiskey for dinner, and my children aren’t over the age of 12 yet so they have to consume actual sustenance.

All that aside, here’s a glimpse of what I pack and take to work.

IMG_1776 (1)

Some days, it all gets eaten. Some days none of it does. Some days I pack it and forget every single damn thing at home. Some days I think this is horse shit and I want a damn chalupa.

But the point is, having quick access to food. That’s the MOST important thing. Having it readily available so it’s even more convenient than going out and eating your feelings because you still haven’t gotten over the fact that Derek was killed and Meredith just pulled the plug without letting anyone even say their goodbyes. Amy could of saved him god damnit!

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I gave up coffee.


That stuff was the sweet nectar of my life. From the moment I woke up when my love brought me my first cup of the day as a barter to get my ass out of bed, which at 5 AM is a lot like a scene from The Exorcist, until the moment I would wind down at the end of the night with a cup on my night stand. Coffee and oxygen were one in the same. Hot, Iced, intravenously, weak, strong, black, creamy, crappy, decent, I didn’t discriminate. Just give me the damn juice.

But, in all my years of drinking coffee, it never really did anything for me. There was no sudden, or gradual even, burst of energy. It didn’t get me through an afternoon slump or make a Monday any less of a Monday. To put it simply, I just liked the taste. Kind of like bacon. Doesn’t do a damn thing for you, but I’d sure as shit punch a kitten for some.

SO… when I jumped head first into the Advocare world, I about stroked out when I realized they don’t advise drinking coffee on the challenge. It was like I was reading a foreign language. No coffee? I don’t understand. What does that mean? Nooooo, coffffeeeeeee? Even sounding it out didn’t help.

But whatever.. I paid for the shit so you better believe I’m gonna do what it says.. or at least try it. I’ve heard about this Spark drink they all hoot and holler about but believe me there is no replacement for the lifelong friendship I’ve had with espresso. None. It’s the bloods and the crips as far as I’m concerned.

Then I tried it.

I’ll be a son of a bitch.

It’s amazing.. of course… because anything I throw a fit about is almost always sure to turn around and make me look like an idiot.

It’s kind of like when you go to take a picture of something with your phone and it’s out of focus. You touch the object you’re trying to snap a photo of and it focuses in and is crystal clear. That’s Spark.

What’s better than Spark mixed with water per the instructions?

THIS. IMG_1691

Heaven help me.

Directions (super complicated here folks):

  • Mix one scoop spark with 4 oz water in protein shaker.
  • Pour 4 oz over ice in large glass as shown above
  • Then pour in any flavor La Croix sparkling water.
  • Squeeze around a quarter of a lime
  • Give a good stir
  • Die happy.

The end.



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