12 of 2012

The Twinsies turned 21.

Ran/Walked my first 5k with Leeann & Kathrin 

Visited NOLA with Leeann.

This.

Went to 9 million (six) weddings.

Met one of my heroes.

VEGAS.

Shared some tender moments with the meoww.

Blessed a chipmunk.

Moved in with jmeoww's boyfriend. 

Cleaned & stuffed a turkey. And then washed my hands 87 times.

By far my favorite photo(s) of 2012, marking the end of a dramatic
Nicholas Sparksian story and the beginning of true romance
and cheesy photo captions like this.

A Poem About Me.

I have so many things to say about this.

So. I shamed my mom into actually decorating her tree, rather than put generic ornaments on it like a goddamned heathen. So she dug out this treasure as payback and when I get up there on Christmas Eve it better be front and center.

English was my second choice of major in college, so let's deconstruct this "Poem."

Tiffany likes Tiger-striped cats. This is not false, in fact I had several later in my childhood (several because my older sister kept running them over...on accident...allegedly). Why couldn't I just choose tigers? Because I was gifted.

Italian food is her favorite food. Also true, however the only Italian food I ate at this age was noodles and butter.

Fantasia is her favorite movie. False. But it was probably the only movie I could think of that started with "F."

Fishing is her favorite sport. Was it? Kind of. I used to go along with my dad. Can't say I did any of the actual fishing things, but I still went. Also, unclear whether this is a sport....

Alaska is her favorite state. My favorite state that starts with "A," obviously. It has polar bears. Why wouldn't it be one of my faves?

Nutcracker is her favorite story. I don't even know.

Yucca Valley is her favorite place to go. Because I haven't yet been to Yellowstone, obviously. Or Yugoslavia. Yemen?

In conclusion, I'd really like to know the point of this poetry assignment. To make me out to be such a liar? It certainly wasn't to work on my smizing or the art of the open-mouth smile. But I glued the shit out of that macaroni. I sure did.

Some things will never change.

At the risk of my cousins disowning me, this is happening. And I am peeing myself over it. This post was very much inspired by two of my favorite fashionistas, Michelle & Alissa.

Girls dominated our generation so our mothers took it upon themselves to made sure we matched as much as possible, and that we were as flammable as possible. And Granny had the honor of purchasing our matching dresses each year. I don't know who had the honor of crimping my hair, but I do know who cut my bangs and she will be hearing about this very soon. YES, MOM. I'm talking to YOU. 

I die for those tv trays.

Here is a group shot, with my cousin Jamie dressed like she was in The Crucible. It appears as though we were singing until Jessica had a meltdown. This one is my favorite because you can only see those spectacular bangs of mine. And also because Mandy is still singing. She was always the most committed to our group performances. And I always tried to hide behind her hair.

Matching pajamas were incredibly vital to Christmas eve. And as you can see, as the only boy in our generation, my cousin Jesse had a lot to deal with. But that didn't stop him from sporting a Hulkamania jacket at all times and by ending our group singing performances with the splits.

And because we believe in tradition above anything else, we still sport the matching pajamas on Christmas eve.

And as you can see, of all of the things my mother has taught me cutting my own bangs stuck the most.

A Very Meowwy Christmas.

Welcome, one and all, to a very special holiday edition of The JMEOWW Diaries. Life has been incredibly crazy and overwhelming as of late, so what could be better than some ridiculous cat photos full of holiday cheer?

Cats and Christmas go hand-in-hand. Like bunnies and Easter. Jack and coke. Water and electricity. All my cat ladies out there, you know what I mean. The trees, decorations, wrapping paper, tissue paper, bows, electrical cords. We are creating a winter wonderland for our little furry friends. And while I find it hilarious, it is quite destructive and annoying. This was us last year:

I eventually gave up at just let her occupy the tree and destroy the ornaments. It was too much, and also hilarious. This year she has been much, much better. Probably because she is a fat and too big for our fake tree. Also because since moving in with her boyfriend she has developed some actual manners. She hates to disappoint her Justin, she really does.

Although I miss the giggles that come along with tree destruction, we still have Kousin Khloe to fill that hole in our lives:

And if it wasn't for this, I'm sure my sister would've sold her to the gypsies by meow:

I told you she was crazier than me. But you know who is even crazier?

The owner of this little shithead. This little ocicat has been harassing me via text lately. How, you ask? He has an extra toe. Obviously.

And with that, I think this counts as my first random Wednesday...

Potluckery.

Within the next two weeks I have about 900 potluck events to attend and contribute to. Don't get me wrong, I love cooking and baking. And I'm really starting to get my groove back. However, when these events are back-to-back I don't want to be up all night preparing and then potentially creating a pintastrophe. So, I've chosen some of my favorite, reliable, and delicioso recipes to contribute to the world.

Paula Deen Gooey Butter Cookies

I know, her recipes are horrifyingly delicious. A stick of butter, a stick of cream cheese? Whelp. Sure. These cookies are too easy and always a delight. Just make sure you chill the dough before you bake. Be fucking patient, okay? Sometimes I get all crazy chocolate chips or whatever yums I can find. Add all the things and dazzle your guests.

Peppermint Patty Bars

I found these little bars of nom on pinterest last year. A tube of cookie dough and peppermint patties? Mouth says yes.

Jalapeno Popper Dip

I don't think I need to elaborate on this one.

And the great american classic,

Buffalo Chicken Dip

I linked to the original recipe for this, but if you use canned chicken you are an animal. Please, cook and shred your chicken breasts for the sake of all that is good and holy. Canned chicken should be illegal. The recipe couldn't be any easier: A brick of cream cheese, 3/4 a jar of frito ranch dip, a shitload of Frank's red hot sauce, and boom. Buffalo Chicken Dip. Also, the thought of using a photo that has used canned chicken in the recipe is testing my gag reflex, so you may google it yourself.

And there you have it. My go-to recipes. What are yours?

Cohabitating, strike one.

So this is going to be one of those posts in which I discuss lady parts and such because I feel so compelled to share one of my not so finer moments in life with you all. Since most of us freely discuss these things anyways. I'm looking at all of you at once.

As you all well know, I nearly died from a cold last week. Which involved sneezing. So much sneezing. I was also dying from PMS and the crying. So one night on the way home from work, I made the rash decision to just swing by Kohl's real quick because I had Kohl's cash I had to spend and not spending Kohl's cash is basically burning a $10 bill. I chose my item to purchase, stood in line, and began to sneeze. At least four, maybe 89 times. And as I'm having a sneezing fit, the worst thing ever happened.

I released the kraken.

But I wasn't going to get out of line because I was next and I didn't want to make a second trip to Kohl's because that would be ridiculous. So I very carefully shuffled to the register, paid, and ran out to my car. I sped the entire 3-minute drive home. Parked. Dropped my phone on the asphalt. Screamed. Ran upstairs. Opened the door, shouted "hi" to meoww because if you don't she gets really upset, and ran in the bathroom. Without shutting the door. 

What happens next almost changed/ruined my life forever.

As I am assessing the damage and mourning the potential loss of my favorite pants, I hear the front door open.

"Babe? BABE IS THAT YOU?"

I hear the familiar, "Oh hi jmeoww...."

And I scream, "HOLY SHIT I LEFT THE DOOR OPEN DON'T COME BACK HERE WHY ARE YOU HOME SO EARLY!"

And then my worst fear was that he thought I shit my pants. And also that he would find out that my body does lady things. Which, I mean, obviously.

Once I calmed the fuck down and tackled the crime scene clean-up, I was able to explain. Explain that sometimes a lady has no control over when the kraken will be released. And the sneezing? Well the sneezing just completely exacerbated an already precarious situation. If you use big words it will distract from everything else that is going on, I think.

The moral of the story: Shut the door, no matter what. Or: Don't stop at Kohl's on the way home from work anymore. Also: Cohabitating. It happens.

Wedding 6/6

We are back and kind of in action. This is my Christmas party hell week which means no naps. BUT. But. I promised the bride a blog post and because she is sweet and adorable and planned a perfect wedding, she totally gets one.

The bride we speak of is now Justin's sister-in-law. And the fabulous wedding was held in Santa Monica at The Victorian, which is a perfect romantic and hipstery venue. I mean, it had a speakeasy downstairs. Which I discovered because I accosted one of the groomsmen that was holding an old-fashioned. Don't withhold classic cocktails from me, guys. I will find them.

We went to a few thousand weddings this year, so we are experts. Yet there were so many things about this one that made it incredibly unique and made me cry like a moron many, many times. Want to make your entire wedding audience cry? Have a sibling officiate it. Have your wildly talented sister-in-law sing the song she wrote for you as you walk down the aisle (note: that is not the song, just an example!). And write your own vows. I think I've said this before but seriously, personalized vows are so damn special and these two did not disappoint. They showcased a truly genuine and sweet love through their own words and had us all in tears. I have a heart, I really do.

Besides all of the romance and drinking and love that was happening, some notable "SO US" moments happened as well.

• I forgot my Naked Palette. You know the horror. Luckily, Sephora is the new starbucks and I picked up some replacement shadows.
• This:

• I walked barefoot around Santa Monica. Because IT WAS SO CLEAN (the Promenade is, at least).
• Justin drunkenly bonded with a Russian cab driver and tipped him 75%.
• Justin forgot his belt and asked me to go get him one. Meaning I had to drive his spotless vehicle through unfamiliar Santa Monica traffic to locate a store of belts. Which of course, I first found Nordstroms and had no time to be picky. Which of course, if he ever loses that belt I will kill him.
• This: 

The dress is Vince Camuto for Macy's. Hell yea I got all designery.
The only good full-dress shot showed my dingy tom's that I
wore for setup so there will be none of that.

•  A wedding after party with Justin's best friend/life partner (whom I was delighted to meet) that included pizza delivery to the motel (yes, motel) and a Duck Dynasty marathon (which further proved to Justin that we cannot get cable, ever).
• Oh, AND I met the family and survived. And discovered that his Aunt reads this nonsense. Hi, Aunt Wendy!
• And also, we decided again that we are in fact not having one of these things.

And finally, upon returning home after leaving miss meoww in her newish home, alone, for 2.5 days we discovered that she ruined not one thing. In fact, she cleaned up after herself. Just kidding.

And that is our final wedding recap of 2012! I expect many invitations to weddings next year just so I can do this all over again. And wear all of these damn dresses again...

Weekend link round-up round-up

Guys, guess what. WHAT? We are on our way to a WEDDDDINGGGGG. Wedding #6 to be exact. The wedding of Justin's brother. In which I will be meeting the rest of the family. And acting as ladylike as possible.

Your prayers are appreciated.

I don't know about you, but I love me some link round-ups. Here are some of my favorite Friday link round-up posters, since I was too lazy to collect links of my own this week. Disclaimer: This is me hoping they post link round-ups this week. It usually happens. I should just calm down.

Bungalow960

The Fug Girls

Dooce

The Everywhereist

Any other linkages I'm missing out on?

Hoping you all have wonderful weekends that don't involve meeting important family members at an important family event while wearing new high heels!

You Know You Love Me.

Not me. But it's okay if you do. Although a little odd.

We are talking about Gossip Girl today. Because I love that goddamned show.

I remember seeing the promos years back when I was a much more cynical gal, slowly easing out of my emo-elitist early twenties. In my later twenties I learned not to be such a hater of such shows and embraced all that GG had to offer. Which is over-the-top melodrama, opulence, and faaaaaaashion.

The acting? Well, obviously. This is a CW show after all. But for a moment let us praise Leighton Meester for giving us one of the best television characters of all time. During this season's Debutante Ball episode she looked absolutely exquisite. She has inspired me to try, and fail miserably, at the art of bold red lipgloss. She is also a classic mean girl, albeit fabulous. Another Blair Waldorf quality my nearly 30-year old self strives to emulate. Truth, I'm usually just a bitch. And so help me if her and Chuck don't end up together, someone will be receiving a strongly worded letter. Email. Probably. I just turned 15.

I think it's also important to highlight the less-than-stellar acting skills of Blake Lively. BECAUSE SHE CAN'T HAVE EVERYTHING. But I would still kill for her hair.

I also live for the recaps. My favorite comes from New York Magazine and a close second comes from The Fug Girls. And on the topic of recaps, NYMAG has some killer Real Housewife ones that I miss reading. I love recaps. I have a life, I swear.

I'm usually behind an episode or two (so stop talking about it for shit's sake) because my bestie and I HAVE to watch it together or else we will die. Because it allows us to do what we do best — sit on our ass, drink wine, and talk shit about people we don't know. And we only have a handful of episodes left and then we will have nothing to do again. Ever.

xoxo.

Thoughts from a sick mind.

Not like "sick and twisted" mind. An ill mind. In case you haven't heard, there is a blogger plague going around. Shannon started it. Shanna has it. I has it. Anyone else out there?

It took me a day and a half to admit I was sick. It's just allergies! Tiff, you're sick. Wow, the rain kicked up so much pollen and my ALLERGIES! Really, what happened was that Justin asked if we could go clothes shopping for him this past weekend and I wasn't going to let some wimpy head cold stop that. Besides, I had a coupon!

So here we are, day 4 of the most pathetic head cold ever. I don't get sick. I DO NOT. I get weird ailments. As in, recurring skin disorder that took doctors most of my life to figure out. The food poisoning/salmonella. The mystery flank pain that has been bothering me since August. But normal sick? I don't know what to do with myself.

Here are some of the intriguing thoughts that have been floating around my head for the past four days.

• Kleenex with lotion. A dream for the nose. Everything else though? Not so much. My hands, hair, and face are begging me to lay off the tissues. The snot in my nose would disagree.
• Being sick means I can eat whatever I want. Like jalapeno beer cheese soup in a bread bowl. Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. And a chocolate shake and waffle fries from chik-fil-a. Oh, and chocolate milk with Kahlua. 
• I can turn into a 4-year old in three seconds or less. Especially when I want Mexican food for dinner. I didn't win that one.
• Cough drops taste good.
• Downton Abbey is THAT GOOD. Okay, I'm only on episode two. But you know how people who watch Mad Men and Breaking Bad say that you don't understand until you watch it? Well I watch those so I already understood. But Downton Abbey, I was like pssssht whatever have you seen Mad Men? Now I know.
• Meowws are good caretakers, for very brief moments. You may have seen these precious moments floating around instagram. With the exception of the 2-hour nap she took on me during The Artist, these aggressive cuddles/attempted strangulations last just a few intense minutes. I get the sense that she does it because she knows it is her meowily duty to comfort me. Even reluctantly.
• Justins are also very good caretakers. Which made it so much easier for me to finally give in to the sickness. Even though it's just really bad allergies.
  
  
  

And that's the best I can do. It is time for more NyQuil and more delicious cough drops. Stay healthy, blogland.

How we met.

One of the only pictures we took. Classy.
So classy right now.

Last year my friend Emily invited me to her fiancé’s company Christmas party. Why this was okay, I’m still not sure. But the words, “free booze and fancy party” are the kind I will never say no to (which is also how I ended up at a military ball one time). So I got all fancied up, and even squeezed into control top panty hose. Side note: Do you have any idea how expensive those things are? And how easily they rip? Someone out there is setting us up for complete failure and a resulting emotional meltdown. The fact that you need them is bad enough in the first place. But the fear of ripping your $16 panty hose as you are shimmying them up your pasty thighs is emotional terrorism.



Anyways. Once we arrived at the party we discovered a fake casino, abundant free cocktails, and men galore. Let me clarify. There were male humans galore. Male humans who haven’t upgraded their wardrobe since about 1997 and didn’t seem to understand that the event was semi-formal (jeans do not a semi-formal outfit make). So we drank, fake gambled, drank some more. And then as Emily’s fiancé was introducing her to some coworkers, we spotted a guy that was well-dressed, appeared friendly, and had one of the most genuine smiles I’d ever seen. So what did we do? Giggled and ran away to go get another drink. Naturally.

For most of the remainder of the party we continued to stalk from afar. After many more cocktails and drunkenly accosting a person who works at our place of employment who also happened to be at the same party, I decided to grow some balls and flash this human a smile. Bold, I know. And then I walked to the bar again, where Taco the bartender (who looked like Bill Murray and also could make himself disappear) was happy to set me up with another beer and next thing I know that human is standing next to me, in a non-creepy way. So we chatted for a while, he made me take off my 5-inch heels to analyze my height, and then he took me on a tour of the crowd to look for a woman that dresses as a dwarf.

When it was time to leave, I did the one thing you aren’t supposed to do, ever. I got in a car with a stranger. FOR GOOD REASONS. #1 He lived by me, and Emily and Bill would’ve had to drive way out of their way to take me home. #2 Emily reassured me several times that it was okay. Emily who was shwasted off 3 cocktails repeatedly said it was fine. It was fine!

As we were driving and bonding, he decided to confess that he forgot my name. HE FORGOT MY NAME. You guys, I had no more dignity at that point. Lucky for him I have a good sense of humor. Upon arrival at my apartment, we sat in my driveway and talked a little bit more and then this happened. He asked if he could come up to use my restroom and swore that it wasn’t a ploy. And because I already rode home with a stranger who didn’t even know my name, why wouldn’t I allow him in my place of residence late at night? I swear my mother raised me to make better choices. I agreed, but warned him that I had a kitten that was a little bit aggressive and weird and I’m sorry if she tries to eat your face off. When I opened the door and my little jmeoww came bounding up to greet me as she does, he shouted, “Holy shit, she’s tiny! This is what you’re worried about?” You have no idea.

So there was much more talking and some making out and some control-top panty hose that turned out to be super embarrassing (in the most non-sexual way, I swear). And because it was well, nearly dawn probably at this point I told him it was okay to spend the night (in an even more non-sexual way I swear I’m not like that ohmygod who raised me). So he did. And there was cuddling. RESPECTFUL CUDDLING.

When he left in the morning, I gave him my number and told him I didn’t want his because he would need to contact me first because I’m such a proper lady, as evidenced by the previous night’s choices.

And he did. Of course he did. And then we went on our first unofficial date that night in which I met some of his closest friends. Because that’s not weird at all.

And so it began.

Music: Live and in tears.

Last week we had the pleasure of seeing Rachael Yamagata at Anthology. That might be the most boring sentence I have ever typed.

Let's do this again. The incredibly stressful night before Thanksgiving, I forced Justin to attend a performance by my favorite singer/writer of the most heartwrenching music you will ever listen to at an acoustically perfect venue.

I feel better.

Rachael Yamagata will break your heart over and over again. And you will ask for more. You need more. I've been listening to her since my early 20s, which were wrought with immature heartbreak that her songs seemed to fit so very well. So when I saw that she was in town, I bought tickets and then asked Justin if it was okay to go that night.

The instant she started singing tears welled up and I knew it was going to be perfect. And it was. She sounded just beautiful and well, perfect. But the best part? Between each song, after ripping out your soul, this girl had me in giggles. She is so weird, and awkward and hilarious. She says herself that the music comes from such a trench of despair and melancholy, that you have to laugh in between the songs or you won't make it out alive. And thank god for the giggles because I got all weird about it.

My favorite song of hers, and one of my all time favorite songs that is so special to me that I don't even want to share the link here...she played it. When I heard the first chord, I burst into tears and melted into Justin's shoulder and sobbed into the tissue that I had stuffed in my bra for that exact moment. What a loser. I had warned him, so he knew it would happen. He was still probably embarrassed. I was only minorly embarrassed, but mostly thankful for the experience of hearing it live. And thankful for the life experiences that gave something that much meaning and thankful to know that I don't have to feel that type of despair ever again. So thankful right now. Are we still doing that, STILL? Shit.

If you're in the mood to have your heartbroken, which, don't lie, you know it's something us ladies do sometimes (which is why we continue to watch Grey's Anatamy & Gossip Girl which I'm NOT caught up on so shut it), listen to this:

"It'll Do"

It'll Do

And, because it's the Christmas season and I like sharing (some...) visit here for a free download! (I did it. It works!).

More Like Cyber FUNday!

This is really hard for me, but I took a break from Christmas shopping to write this. For you.

Did you know that cyber Monday starts at 12 p.m. EST? So I'm getting my cyber Monday discounts already  (Sunday night...) and rejoicing. Can't. Stop. Shopping.

Ahem. So Thanksgiving happened. Which means we cleaned, stuffed and cooked our first turkey. Although this was supposed to be mostly a team effort, Justin had the patience of the Incredible Hulk when trying to de-gross said turkey. So I stepped in. And nearly died. Do you know how far they stuff that neck up the turkey's ass? Which is in fact NOT a turkey penis. It is the neck. Hey, turkey manufacturers, NO ONE USES IT ANYMORE. So please, stop shoving necks up turkey asses. For all of us.

Once I recovered from the de-necking, Thanksgiving was quite enjoyable. We survived our first major holiday together! Naturally.

Black Friday was spent entirely indoors. As it should. We watched Lost and my new favorite show ever, Arrested Development. And we played Trivial Pursuit with shots of whiskey. Naturally. And then Justin & JMEOWW played with a post-it note for the best 20-minutes of my life. Those two, I swear. They were made for each other.

And Sunday we saw Lincoln which I would like to rename Daniel Day Lewis is the Greatest Man Alive. Seriously though, name me a better actor than him and I will send you a prize. And Tommy Lee Jones? Hell yes. I am not a history fan in the least but this movie is stellar. Someone asked me why I was so excited to see it and I had no good response. Besides of course, Mister Day Lewis. Had he not been in it, I probably would not have been so damn excited. But it is an amazing film full of talent. And also a little Joseph Gordon-Levitt. What more could you ask for?

I can't even handle this man.

Now if you'll excuse me, I haven't purchased the entire internet yet...

Digital Reinforcement.

No one is actually reading this on Thanksgiving, right? Hello? I hope not. I hope you are reading it on Saturday. Or even better, Monday.

I also hope that you had a lovely Thanksgiving. And I hope that you read your fair share of "THANKFUL" facebook status updates and blogs posts.

You won't be reading that here. What you will be reading is a wink and a nod to the boyfriend and the family. And the friends and the work friends and of course, the blog friends. Blends. And also to my newly cohabitated apartment which features a dishwasher. Hi, dishwasher. I love you. Too soon?

I have everything I've ever needed, and then some. So fine, I guess you could call me thankful. I like to call it, "complete."

Cheers, to all of this.

On Friday, I sleep.

I am a sleeper. This is not a mystery. Justin is just learning the extent of my sleeping ways and he is only mildly appalled. This is reason #1 why I will not be partaking in Black Friday.

Reason #2? Because IT IS AWFUL.

My family loves this shit. Shopping? Hell yea. A sale? You betcha. Shopping all night? Why not! So in 2009 and 2010 I accompanied my mom and sisters on their wild adventures. And it is as awful as it sounds.

We started at 9 p.m. on Thanksgiving. At Toys-R-Us. I'd like to think I was still a little drunk. And you guys, people take their children. Christmas shopping. They take their kids who they are buying the gifts for. Because why wouldn't you take a pajama-clad child to a store full of raging lunatics pushing around entire swingsets in a tiny cart 3 hours past their bedtime. WHY NOT?

Toys-r-us 2009. This was around 10 p.m. and we
waited in line for almost an hour to get in.

In 2010 I wanted one of the doorbuster TVs at Target so I got in line at 2 a.m. My cousin, who was pregnant, wanted a vacuum. So we all hung out together, miserable, freezing, and delirious. And although we were there 2 hours early, we were still near the back of the building. And I knew what this meant. I wasn't going to get that TV. But I sat, and sat. And then power-walked with the rest of the psychos and guess what...no TVs left. I was crushed. But that man has 2 in his cart and you are only supposed to take one! But really, as much as I protested the Target people weren't really going to do anything about it.

Yes, that is fur on my hood. Yes, it was
probably still about 50 degrees.

So after the epic Target fail we went to Walmart because life wasn't bad enough already. My mom and sister wanted $3 feety pajamas for the kids. And so did everyone else in a 30-mile radius and they were all mobbed around the pajamas. I thought, this isn't real life. People don't do this. But they were doing it right in front of our over-caffeinated eyes. So what does my littlest sister do? She dives right in. Unarmed. Pushes her tiny ass to the middle of the mob, and then crawls on the floor to get out of it. With the blessed $3 pajamas. Our hero. She is quite fortunate she didn't get her weave ripped out.

The entire night usually consists of someone sleeping in the car, someone running home to get blankets and chairs, someone running to the gas station for coffee/soda and someone getting horribly ill-feeling from an overdose of caffeine. And really, most of what I come home with is for me anyways. New towels, pillows, you name it. Last year I drank enough to pass out when it came time to leave for Black Friday Eve. This year I won't be with the crazy shoppers, but they are probably much better off without my whining.

My advice to you is to stay home. Stay warm. And stay sane. Or be smart and whip up some hot chocolate to sell to those crazy assholes in line. They also appreciate donuts.

(But mom, don't forget to pick up my air mattress!)

Here's what you missed.

So many fantastic Tiffany and JMEOWW moments happening during The Great Move of 2012. You'll notice that I'm not listing any ridiculous Justin moments. Because, well he was a saint and gracefully put up with all of the madness. Seriously though, I moved 20 miles. You'd think I moved to Greenland. Here are some highlights:

• I cried over a stick. A moss-covered, decorative stick that Justin said shouldn't go on the coffee table and then I cried. And then he put it on the coffee table and it looked awful, just as he said it would. Stick has been relegated to the patio for now.

• I called potential furniture buyers from craigslist murderers via text message. I had this not so irrational fear of being alone while people were coming to look at my furniture because, MURDER. Justin couldn't make it down one night and after the couple left I was telling him how nice they were and in the second text I said, "They didn't even try to murder me!" Except I somehow sent it to them. The non-murderers who were to purchase my couch. It really was a compliment....and they still bought my couch. Nicest murderers ever.

• JMEOWW attacked a groomer and I will probably never step foot in Petco again. But cats groom themselves, stupid Tiffany. No shit. But if cats could rid themselves of fleas then I wouldn't have had any problems. Hence, a professional flea bath. And a talon trim. And cue JMEOWW hissing and lunging at the groomer when she tried to remove her from the kennel to brush her.
  
  Now, I believe that said groomer was just kind of a wimp. Because all I did was walk back there and grab her by the scruff of her neck and shove her in her carrier. Toughen up, cat groomers. Either way, it was embarrassing and we can never go back there.

J's moving day. She was beyond thrilled.

• JMEOWW lived in a box spring for the first few days in her new home. INSIDE. As in, she tore a hole in the bottom of the box spring and set up camp in there.
  
  The day that the box spring was to be removed and put in storage, she refused to exit said box spring. Flat out refused. As Justin said, we probably set her adjustment level back an entire week. Which may explain her new routine of waking us up at 6:30 a.m...

She will make a home out of anything, including storage boxes.

• I decided to start calling Justin roommate & roomie. He better not eat my food...EVER.

With the exception of the dreaded task of cleaning the old place (which is literally collapsing, by the way...) we are officially cohabitated. And we couldn't be happier (unless we got to sleep past 6:30 a.m.).

I will remember you.

It's that time. Everyone has done one. And now it is my turn.

I will be on a blogging hiatus. A blogatus. Or blogcation, if you will. I will most likely still be reading yours, but not writing on mine. If you'd like to contribute anything to PDC, I'd be happy to let you.

In the meantime, we will be doing a lot of this.

And soon our cohabitation will be complete. I'll miss you, blog world. Stay classy.

Music: Where are you?

I haven't done a music post in years, it seems. Mostly because no one reads them. Also because I am still the only person on the planet that likes Bon Iver.

But really, I've lost my focus on music lately. And I've realized two things: Mainstream music is ridiculous and being so in lurrrrve limits my choices. Unless I want to switch back to country to listen to songs about how we love each other like we love pickups trucks. As I've said before, my music choices depend largely on my emotions and because of the limited availability and questionable quality of "happy" music, I just am not paying attention right now. I'd open to recommendations, as long as they don't involve the words "Taylor" or "Swift." I'm a Kanye fan. A loyal one.

So, here is an oldie for you. From a great band that no longer makes music together, Straylight Run. I first heard this song live, and it changed my view of live music forever. I was at SOMA, which at the age of 20 was inappropriate for me to be attending in the first place (so old...). I was with my roommate who had tickets to see Simple Plan, which I hated, but she asked me to go and I wasn't going to turn it down. Paramore also opened, and they were incredible. And then Straylight took the stage and sang all of the songs I had already seen live once or twice. And then this happened.

I stopped moving and just stared. It was intense and beautiful, along the same lines as "Running up that Hill" covered by Placebo.

These songs trigger a feeling that is difficult to place. But they are just lovely.

My precious jewel.

We talk a lot about peepants on this blog here. My nephew's nickname, JMEOWW, and now my sister.  She's probably going to kill me, but I know that deep down inside she is sad she didn't get a birthday post (it's not my fault mom had you on Halloween...). So here it is, two days belated.

When my older sister, Jennifer, was 19 months pregnant with her second child, she went to the hospital because she thought her water broke. When really, she had just peed her pants. Add this to the ever-growing list of reasons why pregnancy is horrifying. So they sent her home and told her not to piss her pants again. She made it through Halloween and a couple of days later, went into labor.

But didn't go to the hospital right away. I got multiple phone calls from her while I was in my office, 100 miles away. As she was in labor, walking around the neighborhood having contractions and screaming, and she refused to go to the hospital yet because they will just send me home. After she put on her makeup and fixed her hair, they called me to tell me she was going in. Which is when I left work for the nearly 2 hour drive to the hospital.

I FLEW up the freeway. Flew. And made it to her room just in time to give her a hug and then the pushing began. I thought about staying in the room and then I almost blacked out and ran away. Twenty or so minutes later, my precious jewel was born. I'm going to horrify you and tell you that my sister went all Kourtney Kardashian and pulled her out. Add that to the list. #934583.

Three years ago (tomorrow, technically) miss Rianne Jane was born. Today, she is changing the world of fashion and is a budding comedian. This kid is HILARIOUS. Not like how everyone else thinks their kids are funny and also gifted. But shitshow hysterical and she knows it. For the first two years of her life, she cried when I got near her. Now she realizes that we are pretty much the same human and we can be friends. Except that she is teeny and blonde and obsessed with collecting underwear. I'm not so teeny, or blonde.

And to prove I didn't completely omit her from her
belated birthday blog, the oldest peepants of them all.

Happy Birthday, girls!