Part 1: Road Trip to New Orleans, LA

I've been recovering from our road trip to New Orleans all week. HA! I'm kidding, but my house and wifely duties have suffered greatly.

Hence, my week-long absence. But I'm back, just hoping you guys didn't hold your breath!

SO...

This past weekend Klay and I road-tripped it to New Orleans, Louisiana to see our favorite band Kings of Leon in concert.

And, boy, did we pick a good weekend to go! The weather was incredible and we got the REAL New Orleans experience this time around.

We went in 2012 to watch the SD Chargers play the NO Saints (we are Chargers fans; go BOLTS!). Anyway, we headed down there early Sunday morning for a Sunday Night Football game and then left the next day. Needless to say, we didn't get to sight-see and never quite got a feel of the NOLA's culture.

This weekend, though, just happened to be the week New Orleans hosted a huge--and free--music festival called the French Quarter Fest. The annual festival has about 560,000 people in attendance each year, 1400 musicians of all genres across 21 stages and cuisines from some of LA's most iconic restaurants. It's dubbed "The Largest Free Festival in the South."

BUT... with every trip comes ups and downs.

It was definitely full of more ups than downs, but there were plenty of frustrations and are-you-freaking-serious moments.

Let's dive in, shall we?

So, we left late Thursday night and headed Bossier City, LA to spend the night.

It was about a 7-hour drive or so to New Orleans from my parents' house. And from our past road trip to NOLA, we knew we didn't want drive so much in one day, especially prior to the Kings of Leon concert that Friday night. So we opted to leave Thursday instead.

We had received a few things in the mail from Margaritaville (a casino in Bossier), but lost them, so Klay called to see if we could get a special promotion, especially since we would be visiting on a Thursday night.

Ya'll, we stayed there for $55! Holla!!!

Anyway, before we left, I wanted to stop of at Maurices to return something which was on the way. We had to take Brody to Klay's parents' house anyway and then to drop the dogs off at my parents' (which is literally 1.5 miles away), and the outlet mall was on the way.

We stopped, and I ran in to exchange something for some shoes and a purse for the concert. I ended up being $2.50 over. I looked in my purse for my wallet--dun dun dun--it was missing! Then, I recalled Brody playing with my purse the day before. Apparently he had taken out the wallet and hid it on the couch behind the cushions. #FML

We had to turn BACK around to go get it. It was already 6:30 p.m. and it's a 2 hour drive to Bossier City, and we still had drop off the kid and the dogs.

Klay said it was a good thing we stopped at Maurices, other wise, we probably wouldn't have known that it was missing until we got to Louisiana.

He was right...and I don't say that very often.

This trip was NOT off to a good start.

By the time we got to the hotel it was 11 o'clock. We were tired and ready to get to our room.

Things looked up when we discovered we had an end-suite with a balcony. It had two beds and a large balcony. We were really, really happy with it, especially since we've had our fair share of stays in places that look similar to the hotels in "Psycho" and "Vacancy."

NOT
EVEN
JOKING.

We had plenty of unpleasant stays on our 17-day trip from Alaska to Texas in 2011; some I had to sleep on our blankets that laid on top of the bed. It seriously would have been better if we slept in the car! I have no idea why we didn't. #roadiesforlife

Of course, we had to gamble while we were there. I mean, you can't go to Louisiana and not gamble, right?

I like the slots. Klay started playing roulette.

I didn't fare too well and lost my money pretty quick. No surprises there, Cass. 

Normally I play the quarter or dollar slots, but my money was dwindling fast so I tried the penny slots. I won about 40 bucks on one and then lost it. Story of my life. 

I went to check on Klay and watched him for a bit. He ended up about 80 dollars ahead, so we only ended up losing about 20 bucks all together! Yes, I blew a hundred in an hour. #wasntthefirsttime

We left early the next morning to ATTEMPT to get to New Orleans around 3ish. But we were definitely tired from the night before and went to bed around 3 a.m.

We talked and laughed along the way. Klay made fun of me and cracked jokes, as always--primarily about my feet. Despite hitting a little traffic, we arrived to New Orleans around 3:30-3:45 p.m.

We headed to the bed and breakfast Klay booked for us. We had searched for hotels for two weeks, but everything downtown on the weekends were listed for about $300 per night. Um... where's the nearest Motel 6? Ha! I'm kidding--kind of--but we tried to save money where we could.

Anyway, Klay booked a bed and breakfast so we could try something different. And, it had great reviews and was half the cost per night than the hotels downtown. By the time we pulled up, it was about 4ish.

The house was pretty on the outside--the classic NOLA look. I wasn't sure what to expect when we went inside. I saw two pictures of rooms online and the place looked very old and antique-y. Klay isn't big on "Grandma-style/museum housing" so I kind of knew he wouldn't dig it.

Immediately when we walked in we got a wiff of old, "this-is-place-is-ancient" smell. The doors were massive, the staircases were steep, the halls narrow, the floors creaked and the smell was just OLD. Mona-Lisa-looking paintings of people (who weren't Mona Lisa) hung on the wall. I felt like I stepped back in time. I was surprised they had electricity. HA! I kid, I kid.

Klay gave me a look like "WTF did I get us into" and I smiled because I knew what he was thinking.

The guy was super nice and showed us our room. We apparently had a suite, if you could call it that. We walked in to a pretty good sized room with our own bathroom that definitely could barely fit one person in it. It was tiny; pictures are deceiving ya'll.

He left us there and walked out. We didn't take our bags out of the car yet because we wanted to check out the place first.

As soon as the hotel dude shut the door, I sat down on the lower corner of the bed gauging Klay's reaction as he examined the room. The floors and the rooms were filthy--dust bunnies galore.

"I'm not into all of this old stuff and these people [in the paintings] staring at us. It's creepy," he said.

I did kind of feel like I may see a ghost at any moment, so I understood where he was coming from. My primary issue is smell and cleanliness. And I have a STRONG sense of smell. It's pretty much like a curse.

Klay sat on the corner at the top of the bed (by the headboard) and that's when I heard a CRACK, KERPLUNK, BAM!

YA'LL,

THE
DAMN
BED
BROKE

and

KLAY
TUMBLED
ONTO
THE FLOOR.

"Oh my God! Klay! You broke the bed!" I said laughing.

He stood up smiling and examined where the bed broke.

Apparently someone had wrapped a clothes hanger around the bed post to try to keep it up.

We had only been there ALONE for barely two minutes in that room and the bed broke.

ONLY US.

If anyone asks, Klay was going to blame it on our crazy "sex-ca-pades."

I didn't have any make up on which meant I still had to get ready for the concert which started at 8 p.m. It was now 4:30 and we needed to decide if we wanted to stay here (if they had another room available) or if we can manage to find a hotel nearby for a reasonable price so I could FIX all of this (meaning myself) for the concert.

Klay and I went to tell the guy what happened, he came and checked it out and agreed it wouldn't be fixable, so he went to call his boss to ask what he should do. Klay and I talked and pretty much decided we would try to call some hotels either way (maybe this was a sign we shouldn't stay here), but we waited for the fella to come back and give us options.

He told us that the owner knew the bed needed fixing, but hadn't gotten around to it yet. Well, DUH!

They had one more room available. We went up a huge flight of stairs into a bright neon orange room, with a "kitchenette" which was pretty much just counter tops and cabinets that we wouldn't use anyway. It had a living room area with a twin bed and a couch I wouldn't sit on to save my life. The linens on the bed were old, smelly and faded. Nothing was clean or updated. Everything looked like it was originally from the house when it was built in the 1840s.

It was about 40 degrees warmer than the room downstairs. We asked the guy to give us a minute to talk it over.

We had already paid the deposit so we needed to get it back. But we pretty much knew we didn't want to stay in this room. It was unsettling with the bright colored walls and the steep flight of stairs that looked like they could collapse any moment.

The other room was like the Ritz compared to this one.

Klay called Hotels.com to see if we could book a room at the Hyatt Regency downtown (which was two blocks away from the Smoothie King Center where Kings of Leon was playing). When we had looked earlier that week rooms were $300+ a night, but online it was saying it was now $160 per night.

We booked a room at the Hyatt and decided it would be a better option anyway, especially since we were closer to the concert. I guess since it was the same day, the hotels cut the price so they could fill more rooms.

We went downstairs and told the guy we were going to leave. He apologized and refunded the money. We headed to the Hyatt which was only two miles or so down the road.

We had to park in public parking because we didn't want to bay $40 a night to valet (which was the only parking this hotel had). I wasn't about to spend $80 to park for two nights. No way, no how, see ya! (SNAPS!)

So, we paid to park for $20 a day in a nearby lot across the street. Mind you, we are in downtown New Orleans so there are buildings, cars and stoplights galore.

We could only pay for one day at a time so we'd have to make back down there before it expired at 5 p.m. the next day.

We walked across with our luggage in tow and waited to cross again on the median.

This white BMW zoomed passed us trying to beat a yellow light to turn left. She was in the lane closest to us nearly hitting Klay who stood in front of me.

She turns left and we cross. We were talking about the crazy driver and were about 10 feet into the street when we hear BAM, SCREECH, BAM!

The sound of glass shattering echoed for a second and Klay and I turned around. The BMW ran a red light and was T-boned. Airbags deployed, glass was everywhere and two cars were destroyed. We were only 30 feet away or so from the now, wrecked car.

My heart pounded, everyone stared at the wrecked cars. When we reached the other side, we turned around to look again. The guy who t-boned her got out to check on her (she was still on her phone). Everyone around us said "She ran a red light. It was her fault." They weren't talking to us, but talking to their friends who stood nearby.

Klay and I continued on to the hotel. My heart was still racing. I was clearly shaken. I'd never witnessed a wreck like that before, much less being so close nearby--and pedestrians on top of that.

I can't even imagine how high my blood pressure was. I was already stressed about having to get ready, my hair was a hot mess and needed washing, we had witnessed a wreck, and booked a new hotel room because Klay broke the bed at the B&B we were supposed to stay at.

Gosh, that was a long sentence. But that's how it felt! It was one thing after the next, after the next.

With our luck, we'd get to the Hyatt and they wouldn't know who we were or where our reservation was! Luckily that didn't happen.

We walked in, they knew who we were, had our room ready and went up two escalators to get to the elevators so we could go to our room on the 19th floor. Yes, 19th!

This place was like a mini airport, ya'll. It had 4 restaurants and a Starbucks all in one place--and I'm a coffee whore--so I was stoked.

We went to the elevators, which had a touch screen panel to select your floor. It was fancy, schmancy.

We made it up to our floor and into our room. I immediately started to get ready and asked Klay to call and order some food from one of the restaurants to be sent up. We needed to eat a little something before the concert. It was now 5:30 or so and I didn't know what I was going to wear or when we should leave. We decide we should leave around 6:45 and walk over.

My BFF Cami also came to New Orleans to see KOL too. So, we planned to meet up with her and her friend Jeremiah before the concert started.

I got ready--tried to curl my hair--but it wasn't working. I really wanted to wash it, but I didn't have time. So it stayed straight and messy and I sprayed the shit out of it with dry shampoo. #oilyhairproblems

Klay and I headed to the concert and walked in to the lines to get your handbags and pockets checked prior to entering.

This fool pulls out his ($50) pocket knife he forgot he had on him (which they saw) and he had to throw it away. They didn't even check our pockets... they required us to take stuff out so he could have made it through with it had he not pulled it out. He clearly wasn't thinking. UGH. Yet, another frustration.

I could feel our bank out depleting at every new expense:

New Hotel: CHA-CHING
$40 Parking: CHA-CHING
$50 Pocket Knife in trash: CHA-CHING

Needless to say, I was in dire need of a beer after everything that had happened in the past two hours. I just wanted to enjoy an adult beverage and relax.

Klay was MR. Grumpy Pants after the knife thing. We could have taken it back to the hotel because we were so close, but he didn't want to.

Luckily, Cami and Jeremiah came in and saved the day. Our moods shifted as we gossiped and talked about anything and everything before the concert. And Jeremiah was pretty amazing at feeding us drinks and shots every few minutes. Our hands were rarely empty throughout the ENTIRE weekend. Thanks, J!

I was so ready for KOL to come on stage. This is the band I obsess over. I know almost every song they sing. I listen to them all the time and Klay and I have a sentimental history with them.

Their music reminds of us of different parts of our lives. From living in Alaska to our trip across the country to the birth of our son, we are tethered to this band and their music forever.

Plus they rock.

The concert was so amazing, even though this wasn't the first time for us to see them in concert! I sang so much I was afraid I wouldn't be able to talk the next day. If you follow my instagram, you can check out a video that basically proves I should never sing in public.

It was a blast.

As soon as it was over, we headed to Bourbon Street with Cami and Jeremiah.

Group Selfie!

Daiquiris!

Always a good time with this lovely!

And they were huge!

This guy was the cutest guy on Bourbon!

Deep Convo and a Cami Photobomb. 

Why is everyone pointing? 

Things were a bit crazy, beads were thrown, drinks were drank, shots were shot, food was eaten, selfies were selfie-d...

And well, what happens in NOLA, stays in NOLA.

It was such a good time!

We didn't make it back to our hotel til after 3 a.m.

So what do you think happened the next day? It was a doozy.

Click to read part 2!

Best,

ELLE + 3D Crest Dallas Soiree

About two weeks ago, my longtime BFF Stephanie--and now fellow blogger--invited me to an event hosted by ELLE + 3D Crest for fashion bloggers and fashionistas.

Steph and I have been friends since we were wee lil' babes (clearly I've been watching too much "Game of Thrones" and I'm saying this in my best british/irish accent), so I was excited to hang out with her and meet some new people. 

But lezzzz be honest, I was really there for the free toothpaste! 3D Crest is my shizzz, ya'll.

Stephanie's blog Signing Steph is an amazing fashion blog where she puts together new looks every week from sophisticated and work-chic to bold, casual and edgy. It's fun because it's always something different. Check out some of my personal faves here, here, here and here. 

It was hard for me to pick four looks, because she totally rocks 'em all. Go check 'er out and I promise you'll be inspired to change up your wardrobe too!

Since most of the bloggers at this event would be fashion-driven divas, I was mainly there to support Steph (and her blog) and be the wing-woman so she wouldn't have to go stag. Plus, I'm a brave social butterfly who will go up and introduced myself to random strangers cause I like to talk. DUH.

But since I'm a blogger too, I was able to meet and pass out a few business cards myself. Yes, we have blog business cards to pass out! #ballastatus

Anyway, when I agreed to go, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I thought it'd be in a conference room mingling, eating food from a buffet and having awkward chit-chat with strangers at a table. I guess I was thinking more "conference."

There was still awkward chit-chat, but it wasn't in some boring banquet hall...

This was some Real Housewives of Some CITY type shit.

It was fancy, ya'll.

I thought Lisa Vanderpump and Giggy might trot in at any moment.

We arrived at The Joule in downtown Dallas around 6:30 or so and valeted. The fellas who opened the car doors asked us if we were here for an event. We told them we were there for the ELLE/Crest shindig and they directed us to a guy who stood five feet away opening the hotel doors and then directed us to another guy who stood three feet away and told us to go with another guy who was five feet away who showed us into an elevator and directed us on where to go from there. Needless to say there were literally five people who greeted us in 15 feet, for real--we immediately felt important.

We went upstairs and came out to a terrace with a few fashionable, model-looking women standing around with their cocktails in-hand talking away.

The room the terrace was connected to was made of solid walls of glass, and inside, the room was doused with white modern, leather furniture and clear barstools. It was beautiful and some definitely the most glamorous party I've ever been too. 

There were REAL white flowers on tables. I told Steph, "you know it's fancy when there are real flowers on every table!" 

I love this picture of us. #realhousewivesmoment

 

It was still daylight outside so the room was extra white, which I suppose was what they were going for since it was 3D Crest and everyone was supposed to be showing off their pearly whites.

People walked around serving hors d'oeuvres and handing us free drinks (that part I'm not complaining about). But I was starving and those damn hors d'oeuvres were not going to cut it. I didn't want dime-sized crab cakes or lemon cakes. And, we were supposed to be networking so I didn't want to walk around like a fool with crab-cake bits stuck in my teeth cause I have the kind of teeth that ALWAYS gets food stuck in them (and it's always the front teeth). I guess I could have swiped some 3D Crest and brushed them in the restroom, but ain't nobody got time for that.

I decided to forego the food. It wouldn't have made a dent in my hunger anyway. I wanted actual-sized people food, not food for Thumbel-friggin'-lina.

SO you know that awkward moment when you walk in somewhere and you know no one and everyone looks up at you? Yeah, we had that awkward moment. There were about 20 people or so there already, but not enough where we could make an entrance without everyone staring.

We were immediately asked if we wanted to take some photos in their photo booth and we went for it--being one of the first people to take them. Secretly, I wanted to go ahead and do it because as soon I start drinking my makeup tends to disappear, mysteriously melting off my face like I'm the wicked witch of the west. I'm melting, I'm melting. 

After the photo booth sesh, we sat down and decide to drink and talk to get a little warmed up before approaching the strangers. Moo-hoo--ha-ha-ha... that's my evil/Sesame Street Count Dracula laugh. One, ah ah ha, Two, ah ah ha.

So we sat, did some of our girly talk but talked mostly about blogging while we secretly examined other people in the room. I was surrounded by fashion-loving, beautiful women who clearly had closets the size of my kitchen. Every detail of their outfit was carefully chosen--from the necklace and the shoes to the makeup and the hair--they were pulling out all the stops.

And, I'm no fashionista. I just joined the skinny jean club last year. I was a late skinny-jean bloomer. I still don't wear the gladiator sandals. I barely get a mani/pedi two to three times a year (normally for a wedding or some event) and revisited buying Victoria's Secret bras last year, because some friends of mine made me cut up my "mommy bra" after witnessing me change. #myundergarmentsarestruggling

Here are the posts by Signing Steph that inspired my look (kimono, army green, lace up shoes)

So, I had trouble deciding what to wear. I went shopping earlier that day and went with an army green top, an aztec print kimono, black skinny jeans and wedges. I liked the look, and I was inspired by some of Stephanie's past looks on Signing Steph so I went bold. And totally found some look alike shoes Steph rocks from time to time on her page. See her version here.

Looking back, I probably could have looked better for this event if I would have worn something different. I was crunched for time so I had to throw something together. I loved the outfit though, just maybe not for that event! 

I was in a huge rush to get ready that day. I had been to Dallas once that morning, to the mall, to another mall, to my mom's house to pick up B, then home to get ready and then back to Dallas for the event. (Deets on what yesterday held before the soiree to come later). 

I burned my thumb twice with my straightener while I was trying to curl my hair. That sentence is kind of an oxy moron. #wordnerdhumor

Yes, I curl my hair with my straightener. After burning my finger twice though, it slowed me down and, in turn, my hair suffered.

As we nonchalantly scanned the room, Stephanie noticed popular fashion blogger/Bravo TV personality Courtney Kerr. I knew who she was because I watch Bravo like it's my J-O-B, but that's probably one of five shows I never watched on the network.

She looked great, of course. And Steph didn't want to miss out on a chance to take a pic with her, so we, actually Stephanie, declared I should go up and introduce us. I agreed, but we decided we'd approach her later.

Steph and I continued drinking and talking and met a fellow blogger. After about 30 minutes or so, we made our way over to the lipstick reader. We mingled with several other people while we waited in line mostly making guesses at how the hell this lady was going to read us by looking our lips.

I'm not much of a lipstick-wearer. I wish I could say I can rock a red or a dark lip on the reg, but I'm more of the light-colored lip gloss girl.

We finally reached the table and there was one woman in front of us. I was 'on deck' being the next to go, so I sat down at the table. The lipreader noticed my lack of lip color and passed me a bright-ass red lipstick to put on. I looked at Steph, with my WTF-this-is-gonna-suck face, and started applying. Don't get this on your teeth or face, Cass. 

I knew it would be a biotch to get off, so I figured I'd probably have to sport the look the rest of the night.

She was pretty spot on with a lot of the things she told me.

This is how I knew she was legit.

Lip Reader: "You wear the pants in your relationship."

Those were the first words that came out of her mouth and she only had to look at my puckered up lips on paper to tell. Klay laughed when I told him that. He denies the truth! Wink, wink.

Then, she laid on a huge one. I have six months to live.

Ha! I'm kidding.

She just told me things about myself... like the colors and type of decor I have in my house (which was right), how I feel about sharing my opinion (if you don't like it, you shouldn't have asked), organization (love it, but lately less OCD), a need to travel (well duh!) and a few other things like fitness and pouting. 

Apparently, I'm a good pouter. I don't know about that. Maybe it works with the hubs; that's why I wear the pants--the pouting!

It was fun and entertaining. She'd be awesome at an all girls/spa party!

After our lip read, we moved to an empty cocktail table so I could attempt to remove some of the red off my lips. Um, didn't work. I was going to have to make it work as Tim would say from "Project Runway." I watch way too much TV.

Courtney Kerr and a friend were making their way over to where we were, so I grabbed Steph and went up to her.

We talked for a few minutes about my smack-yo-mama-in-face red lips, the lip reader and then snapped a picture.

So we mixed and we mingled and walked up to complete strangers to strike up convo. I was thanking sweet little eight pound baby Jesus, they served alcohol. And, these were especially yummy. It was called "Pineapple Twist" and was the bomb dot com.

At night, the purple and blue lights light up the room--and you guys know how I feel about the color purple... my not-so-favorite color right now (click here to find out why). #purplevaginaprobs

After talking to some more bloggers, we decided to call it a night. My feet were hating me and I needed to take off those shoes. And, they were wedges! My feet were made for flip flops only.

As we left we decided to snap a few more pics before we ended the night.

Someone's watching you, Steph! 

I'm doing the one-leg-in-the-air thing, because, let's face it, I just really wanted some free toothpaste! Forget the fashion, the hors d'oeuvres and the drinks--OK, maybe not the drinks--all I care about is the free toothpaste and whitening kit. My teeth are gonna BLING, BLING.

Since you really can't tell how beautiful the soiree was from our iPhone pics, check out some professional pics here. You can also read what Steph thought about the night (and thinks of me) here.

Overall we had a great night and made some new blogger-friends! 

Check out a few of the people we met: 

Caroline Covets
THE style barn
Style Junkeyz 
Ashes into Fashion
BEL affair

So I wanna know...

How do you feel about a red lip? Can you rock it? Does it bring out your smile? 

The Color Purple

Do you ever feel like your life is in a rut?
And, no matter what you do you can't get out of it?

Um.
Yeah.
That's me.

I'm stuck in a rut and it blows.
Blows big chunks everywhere...
But since I'm in the rut...
The chunks keep coming back and smacking me in the face.

Oh what? You think that's gross?
Ha.
Just wait.
This will be the most epic post yet.
You'll see.

Men, you should turn back now while you have the chance. Don't say, I didn't warn you...

So it all started about a month ago after Brody and Swayze's joint-birthday bash. I'd been stressing about the party for a few weeks, and then I got sick with some sinus crap so I was on antibiotics for two weeks because nothing would quite get rid of my gnarly infection.

If you're a woman and know anything about antibiotics, you can probably figure out what's coming next.

(Men, if there are any reading, you may want to steer clear of this post; second warning!)

#femaleissues

Combine antibiotics and stress and what do you get? DING DING DING.

Yep, it's your classic case YI aka yeast infection.

I know, I know... It's gross for some folks. But most of us women will get at least one in our lifetime... It's a medical thing, ya'll, so don't freak out and stop reading. You'll be rolling on the floor by the end, I promise.

And if you're offended by this... sorry, not sorry. If we were in a doctor's office talking, it wouldn't be a big deal. If it makes you feel better, pretend like you're reading this at your doctor's office. And you wouldn't be here if it wasn't for yo mama's lady parts... so if you don't like it, don't let the door hit you in the vagina on the way out!

I'll be honest; I debated on talking about my lady parts...

Buuuuttt I figured if you know me (and I mean know me, know me) I'm not the one to shy away from this kind of conversation. I tend to over-share... that's just who I am. I usually make you feel better about yourself by the end of a story through my experiences and this one is no different.

Plus, I've never heard of this before... and I'm guessing you haven't either.

Needless to say, it started on the Monday after the birthday party. I finally made it to the store Wednesday to buy an over-the-counter treatment. By that Friday, it hadn't got better so I called my OB-GYN. She called in a strong prescription that's apparently hard to come by in pharmacies because my pharmacy (CVS) called informing me they didn't have it on their shelf. Since it was Friday, the earliest I'd get it would be Monday.

They tried to call a few other CVS's around the area and none of them had it either. They did call Walgreens and they had it! I was so relieved that I was going to get some relief, so I sent Klay to pick it up. #noshameinmygame

About an hour later, Klay called and said that Walgreens doesn't take our insurance. Just MY luck... It was going to be $100 for the one-time treatment. Psh, puh-lease... not gonna fly.

I called a few other places in town (Walmart, Kroger, Brookshires) and they all took my insurance, but none had it on the shelf. FIGURES! 

Of course the only one who had it on their shelf in a 30-mile range from my house was the one that didn't take our insurance... sometimes I think the world works against me.

So I called the doc and left a message (now it was past 5 o'clock on a Friday, so I thought I may not get a reply). They called me back and called in a less potent 'script I could try and get that day.

I did the three-day prescribed treatment and by Monday I didn't feel any different. I go to see my gynecologist but she is out for the day, so I see the nurse practitioner instead. I was swabbed and told to continue to use external cream and it should go away.

A week later, it was still not better.

I go back and see my lady doctor this time. The results came back from the week prior and revealed I had a really resistant yeast that's extremely difficult to get rid of. Uh, DUH!

She gives me the same medicine I was trying to get my hands on two weeks prior, but no one had it on the shelves. UGH. FML. If I'd had known it would be this bad, I would have ordered it and waited til the pharmacy got it in.

Now it had been more than three weeks with the YI.

Early last week, it STILL didn't seem to be getting much better...

So I go back to the doctor...

What's my next option? #areyoureadyforthis

Purple lady parts.

Say what now?

Yep, you read that right. Dye my lady parts a lovely shade of purple.

Like Minnesota-Vikings-purple, Barney-purple, Purple-people-eater-purple (my longtime BFF, Brittany, will love that one)... I'm running low on purple references, but you get the idea.

You mean a purple va-jay-jay could solve this problem? Pssh... Well why didn't you say so?

Ha. I'm kidding. I wasn't too pumped about painting my lady parts. This stuff (it's gentian violet used to treat YI and thrush in babies) will stain your who-ha and by stain, I mean like permanent-marker-kind-of stain, which means it's going to be around for a while.

Oh what to do, what to do?

I did feel just a smidge better the day before the doctor appointment. But with my history of getting rid of illnesses or having unexpected things pop-up, things would probably go awry.

See, I'm not the usual patient who gets the usual meds and it works right away... I'm the one who has the unfortunate, unexpected, unusual things happen (that was a bunch u-adjectives, virtual high-five to my word nerds out there... you know who you are!).

Thank God, I have a loving, understanding husband and good insurance.

He's seen a lot worse from me, ya'll. And even more disgusting and embarrassing things (than a purple vagina) that I care to share. Well, I'd share them with ya, but now's not exactly the time.

Klay has had to clean up a time or two after me, as I have him.

"In sickness and in health," right? But for my poor fella has dealt with more sickness on my end than health.

Our marriage is an open book, so #Iaintneverscared to tell, share, or show him the issues I may be having. That hashtag was a rap song reference, if you didn't catch it... #bonecrusher #highschoolrapsongs

Needless to say, I told the doc "to paint her masterpiece" and now have a purple-y goodness down south. And no, I didn't get to pick the shade of purple I wanted.

Hello pretty vagina!

Boom... nailed it.

OR at least I thought I did.

Two days after my goodies were Picasso-ed, mother nature came calling. Just pile it all on at once, why don't cha? 

Then as I'm typing this post, my doctor's nurse calls. The swabs from the day I got...ahem...painted came back negative--no yeast. Looks like this whole pretty vagina thing wasn't necessary after all...

Another week or two till this painted va-jay-jay gets back to normal.

At least my husband is getting his amusement out of this. He's constantly joking about how he smells grape, asking me if I inked myself or if I'm still baking bread.

Only I would have my vagina painted purple for no reason...

I'm just keeping things interesting in the bedroom.

On the flip-side, I have a husband who loves me no matter what shade my vagina is. #winning

Do you have a crazy, embarrassing story to share? Please tell me I'm not the only one in the Purple Vagina Club (PVC). Message, email me or comment below!

Sincerely,



President of the PVC

Read the kind of sequel to this post title "Why I Hate My Vagina."