healthy and beauty, humor, self-help, sleep

Quarantine QT Pie
It’s official. I’m on my death bed.

Oh geez. 

I’ve been pronounced sick. Officially, by whom? Okay, not a doctor. I’m not a fan of those. Then who…. Oh, one of my friends. *slaps forehead. And I think I’m dying. You’re not dying.

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Okay, it’s a little post-karaoke, Irish pub, pre-wedding party people, sinus/head thing. What?

Damn Irish bastards. And that mango beer.pexels-photo-206396.jpeg

Rumor has it that you show symptoms of the cold you catch three days after the bug violates your system. Meaning? I don’t know how true this rings for ya’ll but this is what my mommy told me. *looks around for any mom’s listening

And since mom’s are ALWAYS right….

Therefore, this means, that it’s likely I caught this deadly flu during our singing disco night.

You wanna question momma? Go for it. I’m not going there. I imagine some typhoon from The Bible will come swoop my ass away if I Do it. So, by all means, agitate the universe. I’ll watch.

Fast forward to waking up on Monday with a tickle in my throat. Actually, more like apexels-photo-1.jpg freaking cat had been clawing the inside of my throat like a scratching post. Eyes puffy. OH, and the feeling I was hit by a giant truck. Like, um, you know the ones they drive on military bases. A tank. Yup. Definitely a tank hit me. A tank filled with a gaggle of handsome men in uniform!


If you’ve been reading for a while, or you know me personally, you’ll notice I don’t often get sick. But, geezaloo, when I do! WHAM! It takes me out like a tranquilizer dart that’s just hit a raging rhinoceros in the African desert! Yeah, teeth and all. And the horn thingie too.

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CUE AUSSIE ACCENTED NARRATION: *Kronkie! A sight we’ve nary seen, folks! Out here on the plain, it appears we’ve caught a glimpse of the horned-Rita-buffalo-rous. This majestic creature seems to be in a fit of psychotic looniness. Ladies and gents, she’s got the flu. Oh no, no… she’s spotted us. Move! Move! Move! Get the tranqs!

Um, wow.cactus-eyes-book-pot-159840.jpeg

I know! So vivid! And scary.

And dramatic.

Circling back. It’s now Thursday and I’ve been freaking useless for four days. I’m pacing my bedroom and have gone through my second box of tissues. 85 count. My bestie has literally chased me down the past two days -every four hours- with an over-the-counter medication cocktail that not only tastes horrific; but, literally makes me feel sicker than I already am. Oh, but then I pass out – and according to her – that’s the perk to the whole deal!

I barely take ibuprofen. Or eat real salad dressing.

IMG_6653.JPGSo here I am. On a Thursday. Drugged up on a NyQuil and Mucinex aperitif. Swimming in a cough syrup-laden linen swamp. What? Oh, yes, I may have forgot to mention that my bed has become a breeding ground for spilled containers of medicinal beverages. Menthol aromas abound.

Shit. It’s been four hours.

CUE HANDSOME AUSSIE NARRATOR AGAIN: *Behind the bedpost of the four-poster bed, we see “the bestie” tracking the mysterious and ill, horned-Rita-buffalo-rous. With her tranquilizer weapon tablespoon of choice, she moves in on this beast with the grace of a gazelle.

“Hold her down! I’ve got the elixir on the spoon! Go, Go! Now!”

So traumatic. It wasn’t. IMG_0870

Nah, it’s all good. She just poison me again. She didn’t poison you.

And then left me all alone. Again. OMG.

So lonely. Stop it. 

It’s… getting… dark…


*Special thanks to,

humor, self-help, sleep

Trombone Tutu Glam Squad

I’ve decided that since I already rock tiaras on my birthday, christmas, and

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valentine’s day; that it may be appropriate to add pretty glamorous tutus to my ensemble for new year’s! Please don’t. 

I mean, why the heck not. It IS a special occasion, after all. Do not get more glitter. Oh gosh how I love glitter… and unicorns!

Anywho, now that all the hullaballoo has passed and the flitter of glitter has settled I suppose it’s time to get back into those work routines. Boo!

Hey, I love my job… so, Yay!

Full disclosure, it has been so tough getting back on the horn this year. You play the horn now? No. Pay attention. 2018 has been gong on for two weeks. I know! And I’ve wanted to utilize that time to sleep more! Hibernating much? Must be the weather. Yeah – the weather – thats totally it! …or lazy. 

IMG_5431.jpgSoooo… In honor of picking up that trombone and glamming it up, oh geez. I trucked right on over to the nail salon – no wonder your typing so slowly – and initially had my sights on an ombre nail, with randomly chosen nails, all in a gleaming white with splashes of glitter on them. You didn’t. No, sadly I didn’t leap. I opted for the tried and true yawn-a-thon blush/nude. Which, goes with everything and makes my short stumpy sausages actually look long and feminine. Wait a minute, did you actually say “trombone?” Ah, love that. The trombone? No, silly. Fun AND boring nails! I may opt for the fun, gliteratti glamtastical next trip though… with a stiletto shaping!

BH Cosmetics

For the folks, namely, the gents who read this,  Yeah, they IMG_5432.jpghave names for the shapes that you prefer your nails are filed. Girl problems. This was -for whatever reason- news to me, as I usually just try to play cherades with the nail tech. *stands up, makes monkey sound and arm movements to emulate the shape of nails wanted

You want, oval, round, stiletto (pointy), squared, ballerina (not as pointy but looks like the toe point of a ballerina slipper)… oh and my favorite…. squoval. Squoval? I don’t know. And not really my favorite. Apparently I am NOT the only person who makes up her own words. You’re not. I know- I was baffled by this also!Although…  I really enjoy saying the word… squooooo-val. Stop it. Squoval. Knock it off. Haha…. squovallll.
Speaking of getting loud instruments to annoy others with…  Wait, what? If you’re having trouble getting motivated this new year; I suggest checking out our new video on crushing your goals. I must admit, I had to refer to it when wanting to get back on said obnoxious horn. *She said wearing a tiara and pink fluffy unicorn slippers… saying squoval

One last call of the wild  before I go… Oh no. 

Oh yes… squoval.

Is it fair that I shave my legs in the morning and I am a Yeti by noon?

*slaps forehead

This is NOT helping my motivational process.

You’ve gotta be kidding me. 

Yetis unite!


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humor, relationships, self-help, sleep

Bed Bug Ninja. Get biting. Get swatted.

IMG_5194.jpgI’m convinced.

After months of insomnia on the daily, it has to be bed bugs. Um, no it’s not.

Well, why the heck can’t I sleep then….

Monsters under my bed? No. Gremlins playing in my water at the bedside table? Noooo. Spooky tree constantly tapping at my winder? Oh geez, no. Still mourning that breakup? uh…you may have gotten me there.  Maybe... 



So, it IS the bed bugs…

Okay, maybe it isn’t, but I have good news! A pegacorn landed in the backyard?! No. I finally got a good night’s sleep! Ah, boring, boo! I know! I couldn’t believe it either. Being the self-proclaimed Insomnia Queen, I would rather push through puffy eyes and feet dragging than try to sleep through a night of troublesome flopping around on my mattress. *flop *floppity-flop  The thing is, it seems as though I am just so much more productive when I am not sleeping rather than if I am. I know, I know, you need your sleep… restorative, repairing, blah, blah, blah.

That’s all fine and good but all the brouhaha aside, when I try to sleep in -believe me, I have tried! – I find myself tossing and turning…. and most likely getting bit by something.

Maybe the wrinkle fairy. Maybe!

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I wish it were bed bugs… or a wrinkle fairy; but, unfortunately, it’s just my lifelong sleep disorder. Yeah, self-diagnosed. No need for a medical professional when I have my Photo Nov 13, 6 00 05 PMhandy dandy voices in the back of my head – which oddly sound much like my Mother – saying “Get Up and Get Moving, Sweetheart! Stop Your bellyaching! There’s a world out there to conquer!”

Yeah, it is more of like a shouting, than a ‘saying.’ Glad you noticed it too. And, you think my father’s voice in the back of my head would be different; but, alas, you’d be wrong. It goes something like this, “Man Up! We’re Slanina’s!”  Yeah, I come from a tough brood. Which is why I WISH my sleeplessness WAS from bed bugs. That would be easier to blame. And yeah, I’m sure the -not one; but – two voices in the back of my head aren’t helping. Not even a little bit, girlie. Gotta love that… and neither are easy on me.

And so, yeah. I get my ass up and get moving.

Dammit. That guilt.

As for the breakup, I’m doing fine everybody, thank you for worrying about me! I’m moving along and doing me… and for my bestie who reminds me to get under a new one to get over the old one?

Photo Oct 06, 10 21 31 AMNah, you know that’s not my style. No men. (for now, anyway…)

I need space. None that include d***.  Ahem, foul language, I meant a gentleman caller, yes.

And I need time. Without any beefcake distractions.

And many spa days in my immediate future! Absolutely.

And if I see a bed bug, I will swat it. Even if it’s at the Spa.

That’s right, no fear. Protect yourself!

With a fly swatter. Yeah, sure, why not.

Bed Bug Ninja.

Night, night, bed bugs. Sleep tight. If you dare…

*insert maniacal laugh here


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