I’m an Asshole

Writing is making me a heinous bitch. I can’t explain it, there is just so much frustration. The only thing I can equate it to is being 9 months pregnant and just ready to get that baby out (not that I really know what that is like either). There is this story inside of me and I have to get it out…like yesterday. Only it doesn’t really work that way. 

There is just so much riding on this, at least in my head. So I’m working it out even if it means I’m a cranky bitch sometimes. This is definitely a labor of love…and anger and sadness and all the other emotions. Hopefully, it pans out. If not, don’t worry, I’ll just delete my fb because I can’t even imagine what I’ll be like if that happens. But I’m thankful for y’all for caring enough about me. I’m trying. Promise. 

Ah Hell. Muffy Monday

Yeah, I was all back on track except my mother is here. She’s gone tomorrow. For those who know, mother in town is totes a free pass. She leaves in the morning, y’all will hear from me in full Wednesday. 

For the Hell of it Friday

There are a million ways to be a writer. I have friends that are reporters, novelist, content writers, technical writers, bloggers, and a million things more. Some of us blast our words to the world, some pitch ideas awaiting acceptance or rejection a 150 at a time, and some of us scribble prose for no one to ever see. Still there are a million more. 

You can do it for the byline, the paycheck, or just the release. Try for a grant, residency, publication, or competition. 

One of the competitions that came across my desk was a micro flash fiction. A complete story in 100 words, first prize $20,000. I don’t know what story to tell let alone how to contain it to 100 words. 

Of course, the one that is stuck in my mind comes with no paycheck or grand prize. And that’s why I’m sitting outside on a Friday night trying to figure out a fictional me for a fictional land. Could I be a pirate queen or a priceless jewel or maybe a flamingo with a turtle friend? 

Yeah, this is going well. Happy Friday to all y’all, here’s hoping you’re out having nonfictional fun. 

Viva Las Vegas

Over the summer, I bounced around to Vegas a bunch. I just flew back from a visit Friday. It was the summer of shows, Gaga, Cher, Rebelution, Avett Brothers, Chainsmokers x2, Britney…casino after casino. 

So good news is there’s internet at the rental now, that means here’s nothing holding it back. Time to breakdown all the spots from all the trips. And don’t worry, I’ll be all over posting as a distraction from the book…I mean, I’m devoted to writing the book. Stay tuned! 

Blistering Desert: Travel Tip Tuesday 

As a Southerner, there are a few things I’m genetically dispositioned towards: monograms, football, flops, pearls, sweet tea, mosquitos, and humidity. Out West, everyone wanted to tell me how the heat would be the end of me. Please, down South we’ve got mosquitos the size of cats and heat soaked with humidity so thick you could cut it out of the air. 

I will admit that the desert heat is no joke, poolside in Vegas one day it reached 112° completely melting the binding glue of my book. But folks, that’s a dry heat. 

Now as I said, I live or die by my Rainbow flops. They’re just the best flip flops you could ask for especially with their Rainbow Guarantee. However, this summer my beloveds betrayed me. Broken in to perfection, while in Vegas they gave me a blister?! It took me awhile to figure that one out. 

The desert heat not only dried me out, they dried out my leather sandals. This is a simple fix! Lotion. I started making sure I lotioned up my feet AND my Rainbows. This kept them from drying up and rubbing against me as well as keeping them from drying out and cracking. Pretty simple, right? 

Let no flop keep you from wandering! Tomorrow, I’m tackling Vegas for Where I’ve Been Wednesday. Keep an eye out for it! 


One of the things I get asked about all the time is my hair.  Do I color it myself? Is it my real hair? Once, like a slap in the face, did I color my hair with Kool-Aid? How does it stay so bright? How often do I do it? None of it is easy? But I’m going to tell you all about it. 

First off, it is time consuming in so many levels. I had never dyed my hair before so my virgin locks soaked up every ounce of color that came my way during the SEVEN HOURS I was at the salon. Yep, seven hours to make this brunette pink. Shannon from Hair Lounge in Summerville, South Carolina, did it and she’s amazing. When I can’t get back to her, she sends stylist instructions. The only person who has ever come close was Deron at Salon Studios in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. I don’t know what Deron does, but my hair always comes out crazy silky smooth after our visit. 

Product is everything. We use Goldwell Elumen and let me tell ya, that shiz isn’t going anywhere.

The only reason I go to the salon every 4-6 week is to touch up my roots. Damn my fast growing hair! When I get a touch up, I pack a lunch since those visits are a minimum of 4 hours. Younjust got to plan on settling in! 


Despite the pic above, the color doesn’t fade…like at all. With Goldwell as a base, I care for my hair with Keratin Complex shampoo & conditioner PLUS Viral color tinted shampoo. The color treated shampoo makes a HUGE difference. Hotel KLA has gorgeous purple locks ombré with her natural hair color, thanks to Viral she hasn’t had to have her color touched up in almost 6 months. 

Notice that sun hat? Yep, you guessed it! No sun to tarnish my color. Poolside I toss my hair up in a monogrammed ball cap, while driving with the top down I make sure to load my hair down with color sunblock. I find that the sunblock is a personal preference on brand. I don’t love the aresal, but haven’t found one I love love love. Even if you’re not pink, if you have any color in your hair at all you should be putting sunblock on your color to keep from dulling or turning brassy from the sun. 

No sun, no chlorine either. Saltwater is fine, but a chlorine pool will destroy my hair. Not even ashamed that I put on a swim cap, special ordered of course. 

I try to space out my showers as much as possible…which leads to a lot of dry shampoo (regular, nude, and pink tinted depending on the occasion) and LOTS of styling. 

I woke up like this

You’re going to want to invest in some dark towels for when you do shower. Can I keep going pink forever? With proper hair care, yes. Though I am considering leaning towards a fade into pink to cut down on salon visits and expenses. Maybe something like these only with pink? What do you think? 

Of course, I LOVE LOVE LOVE this bombshell:

A lot of the reason we transitioned from bubble gum pink to hot, hot pink are my dark roots. As much as I love that fiesty lady above, it would be even more work than what I have now. 

So yeah, that’s the 411 on my pink locks and haircare. Mad work, but worth every second. I mean, how can you not be enchanted?! 

Popping that Bubblegum Pink Bubble

Currently, I’m flying a bagillion miles in the air leaving Vegas where I just had my big ol’ pink head put in place. It seemed like the perfect story for the return of For the Hell of It Friday. First, let me tell y’all why I was so easily swept away. 

Before heading out to Vegas, I came home to Charleston for a few weeks. Seeing people I know everywhere I go is one of the things I miss most. 

Out and about once in Charleston, someone recognized Mizzou (she was a dog celebrity), stating that one of the people trailing her must be Muffy. Another time a woman came up to my table while out at dinner to see if I was me, I am obviously. She proclaimed me “Park Circle Royalty,” gave me a hug, and walked away without ever telling me her name. I’ve given speeches, taught seminars, and won awards that led to people approaching me in the grocery or strolling down King Street. Part of being overly active in the community. Plus how many Muffys do you really know? I’ve been told of dozens, but only ever met one and she was an “ie.”

While back in town I had my hot pink locks touched up. Sitting in the salon (which takes hours per visit), a woman between the age of my mother and grandmother asked if I was Muffy. I just happen to be her! Somewhat confused since I was in Summerville far outside my usual stomping grounds, I waited for her to fill in the blanks on how we knew each other. 
She recognized me by my pink hair and knew of my adventures because her niece follows me on Facebook. Let me tell ya, my heart swelled three times bigger than the Grinch’s when hearing the carols of Whoville. This was better than trolls! This was like a fan sighting! *fans self over the excitement of being famous*
That is why when I was lounging poolside in Vegas on one of the oversized chaise lounges and a woman approached me asking me if I was Miss Muffett sitting on my tuffet I laughed, flattered, and asked if she followed online. Yeah, no. She doesn’t. 
Feeling like a moron, I explained that my name was Muffy and since I had my highly recognizeable hair down I had thought she knew me. After all we were staying at the same hotel where I had been checking in a great deal…no, not even close. 
Not only did she have no clue who I was, she wasn’t really standing over me to get acquainted. My tuffet just happened to be where she stopped to wait for her friends who she recounted the whole event to still chilling at my tuffet. Pretty sure that put my dillusional celebrity status in check even if the Las Vegas Monorail liked my fb post. One day kiddos, one day. 
Next week, I’ll be wrapping up the summer of shows darting all around Vegas. Monday we’ll be back on track with a Muffy Monday discussing one of the top three questions I get on repeat. Doesn’t it feel good to be back?!