Not your typical PDC post...

Usually I enjoy posting about shitshows on this blog here, but can I be serious with you guys for a moment? I've been fortunate enough to have a relatively problem-free childhood and family life. No divorce, no major drama, no lifetime movies. This is my thing. This is the one thing that eleven years later, I still cry about. eleven years later, I still can't talk about it. Therefore, I blog.

I don't even know where to begin with this one, so let's just have at it. Eleven years ago my aunt died. From alcohol poisoning. My dad's only sister. My grandma's only daughter. She literally drank herself to death. My dad took her to detox, but it was too late and her body completely shut down. I'm not even sure she knew we said goodbye.

She drank because she lived her entire life hiding from her past. Choices others made for her. And choices she would always regret. So she drank. And she knew this would happen. She knew.

My uncle knew. He knew it all. And he watched. And he let it happen. My family knew that she was drinking, but not how severe it was and how it was destroying her life. I was too young to fully understand the severity of the situation. If I could have done more, would I? It probably still would've been too late. But I will never know and I will always wish I would've helped her more. I should've helped more.

I used to have nightmares about her funeral. Because it was awful and tacky and she would've hated it. Because I watched my Grandma say goodbye to her only daughter. I watched as my Grandpa couldn't even grasp what was going on. We rode in a fucking limo between places and my fucking uncle put her in a wall. She would hate that fucking wall with the tacky silk flowers.

Why am I still so traumatized because of this? I live in San Diego because of her. I work at SeaWorld because of her. I love Seaport Village and Shelter Island because of her. I can't even look at Humphrey's Half Moon Inn. She brought me here when I was young and kept bringing me back. She fostered my interests and encouraged all of my hobbies. Even the rock collecting.

I see so much of her in me all of the time and it fills me with pride and breaks my heart all at the same time. Because I wish she could visit me at work. I wish she would've seen me graduate. I wish we could hate birds together and that we could've seen Bette Midler in Vegas. And Cher and Celine. We were supposed to see The Phantom of the Opera. I wish she could meet my sister's kids. Dear god, she would love the shit out of those kids.

Sometimes I think all I have left of her is some costume jewelry, faded photos, my venetian glass candy collection, and a box of things she knit for my future children. She knew. But I have so much more. I have this life that she inspired me to live. I owe it all to her.

The JMEOWW diaries: SPECIAL EDITION

The Divine Miss Meoww is turning one (sometime I think, possibly this week, I'm not sure because she was feral...)! Because Justin wouldn't let me buy her a tiny hat and because cats actually can't taste sweet flavors, we are celebrating with shredded cheese and a laser pointer. He also convinced me that a party would be a complete nightmare for her because she hates people.

In one year she has accomplished SO much. She has: possibly killed her brother and allegedly her mother, ruined Christmas, peed her pants, set the world hissing record, made ZERO friends (but two boyfriends!), grown a fupa, gotten fleas three times, and has probably inspired an entire generation to NOT obtain a cat. Now if only she could catch that fucking red dot she would be the happiest meoww alive.

The face of an ANGEL.

She is also wondering why my
forehead looks so large.

We've come so far. But not really.

My PeePants is turning 5

Five years ago I received a phone call at 2am. "I think it's happening..." And then they sent her home. And then a few hours later I was flying up the 15 freeway. And then 11 hours after that, this little guy was born. And by born I mean he slowly made his way out of my sister's you-know-what as she screamed obscenities at her Asian doctor who thought it would be funny to say, "Oh you can't do this? Okay! No baby for you today!" My favorite part of that day: Somewhere in the middle of her long-ass labor, we left to go have mexican food and margaritas. HA! 

Back to the point. That day, Bryce joined our massive and ridiculous family and it hasn't been the same since. Not just because once my sister popped out one kid, everyone else followed. But because he has brought us so much joy and happiness that we never knew existed. HOW CLICHÉ , I KNOW.

At some point in time, I decided I would call him "Pee-Pants." Which is further evidence that I might make a great mother someday maybe possibly. I could go on for days about this kid, but let's summarize:

• He is my little nerd who gets all in to animals and dinosaurs and rock collecting, just like me.
• He is a tiny hoarder/collector. If you buy him one, he MUST have them all.
• I bought him a hermit crab for Christmas last year. He named it "Penguin."
• He is our sports buddy, and loves it all. We call him our "Little Bookie," because he knows how to run a sportscenter app on a cell phone and is always giving us score updates.
• Once he told me I looked like a dinosaur. A brontosaurus, to be exact.
• He used to call his pacifier his "is-it" which was the cutest thing in the whole entire world.
• The way he laughs at his ridiculous little sister and just shakes his head. He is the BEST big brother.

Yesterday, he started kindergarten. Today he turns fives. Next week he will probably take over the world. Because he's badass like that.

That Time I Didn't Get Engaged.

That title? IT'S FINE. At some point this weekend, Justin referred to me as "the woman he is going to marry" to which my friends of course made the decision that he had actually proposed and then posted messages of congratulations on my facebook wall because they are complete assholes that I love dearly. Let's talk about how much my mom appreciated that. Humorous, I realize. But also, he says stuff like that. Which is why he totally wins. He also accompanied me on a 29-hour whirlwind of celebrations that we survived, yet again.

Friday night we celebrated Emily's 30th birthday at Medieval Times. We did not, luckily, have to put chicken skin on our face as she intended us to. And no one got kicked out or arrested, as we thought they might. They did sincerely piss off one of the knights, who are way too sensitive in my opinion. The master of ceremonies did know Emily by name by the beginning of the event. Possibly because she got knighted as a wench. Possibly because Medieval Times is her "Disneyland," which would make so much more sense if you had an Emily in your life.

I normally wouldn't post a picture of Justin
being a total perv, but omg EMILY. 

After a wild evening of drinking ALL THE BEER and some of the whiskey in Buena Park, we woke up early to head back to San Diego to get glamorfied to go to a wedding. Because, WEDDINGS. This was #3 of 5 for the summer (#6 is in December so I haven't counted it yet). This was our dear friend Maggie's wedding to her childhood crush that she reconnected with in a bar. The ceremony was held at a park overlooking all of San Diego and it was gorgeous.

Attending all of these weddings is teaching me many do's and don'ts although as I repeated yet again, I don't want one of these. Besides the obvious, two seriously amazing things happened that may not have been so hilarious if we had our full mental capacities intact.

1. Maggie's brother lives in Japan so he could not be present but he sent a video they played during the reception. It started out very sweet and witty, and then his small child starting pushing his way in to the frame and her brother gently shoved the little guy away stating, "They practically raise themselves." Perfect. By the end of the video the tiny child was all up in the frame and it was so sweet and genuinely hilarious. I might make one of my sisters not come to my non-wedding just so I can have a fun video.
2. A very much older couple seriously getting their groove on. They were having so much fun and my heart exploded with glee. I don't dance much now because it makes me uncomfortable. But I suppose at that age, you don't have to worry about looking silly when you dance. It was perfect and I want to be them when I grow up.

Oh also, our blushing bride did the Dougie. On her own accord. Because she is seriously that awesome. We also totally bonded with another work friend's girlfriend and I suspect he had been keeping her from us for that reason. Now he HAS to hang out with us outside of work.

Bestie Jenn. We always take a couples picture
because that's never weird for anyone.

The man. He wants to marry the shit out of
me but not yet and THAT'S OKAY.

So pretty right now.
Open bar, so you know...

Much better. Jenna & Jenn. Don't get confused.
We live in a 5 block radius of one another.

Joined by our new friend. She fits right in!

And after all of that, Sunday was this:

Isn't that a sight? We didn't move. Only for food. And J drank out of Justin's cup all day because she was too lazy to walk to get her own water. He got all weird about it and I'm like, she's just resourceful JEEZ. I'd let him drink out of my cup (not anymore probably...). I'm clearly tired and rambling. These weekends do that to me.

A severe case of the weekends.

Why, oh WHY is it not the weekend yet? Earlier this week, time was fa-ha-lying by and now I swear three weeks have passed before it turned into Friday. I am super excited for this weekend's events but also completely overwhelmed by the timeline in which they will be accomplished. Friday night we are celebrating Emily's birthday at Medieval Times and last time we went, this happened:

Yes, that is chicken skin. Cable Guy wasn't all bad.

In conclusion, I am equally excited and horrified to find out what happens this time. This CASE OF THE WEEKENDS has totally fried my brain, so you get some linkage today.

Aminals! 

Ice Cube, as told by cats.

Did you know HuffPost has an entire page dedicated to cats and cat related things?

And to prove I'm not entirely biased, dog shaming. Okay, so I am biased.

Faves Posts of the Week

The Everywherist kills it with this one.

Miss Erin totally made me PMP (pee my pants, for those of you playing at home).

Randomness

The only three dance moves you need to know. Ever.

Someone needs to buy me this sweater.

And holy neatness! The Smithsonian is pinning! (I pin too! If you're in to that sort of thing...)

My weekends are itching. I've got to deal with this problem. Hopes yours is equally amazing/horrifying!

The JMEOWW diaries V.3

One time JMEOWW peed her pants.

Wait. What? Here's the thing. The meoww has been quite well-behaved lately. Well-behaved meaning I haven't lost any blood lately. She also hasn't attracted any more fleas. But she has attracted the neighbors' cat, which is now her second boyfriend (Justin will always be her first love. It's disgusting). Since she can't go outside (yet), they lay on opposite sides of the screen door like fucking Romeo & Juliet. We also started slowly acclimating her to the great outdoors by letting her spend a few minutes on the patio. Her tiny brain exploded. It was adorable, and then I had a panic attack imagining her jumping off the balcony and getting hit by a car. So indoors we went. Baby steps. For both of us.

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS FUCKING LEAF? *

Because her antics have been limited, I thought I would tell an old story. About the time she peed her pants. The J had a deep love for BAGS and I came home one day with a paper bag with handles. I put away my purchases and gave her the bag to play with. And then said bag tried to murder her.

Not the night in question. This was way before the murder attempt.

What happened next was a blur of movement and laughter that would last for hours. Jenna  and I were sitting on my couch probably watching 20/20 on TLC when out of nowhere, a paper bag comes running into the living room at speeds only previously achieved by Usain Bolt. And then it went back in the bedroom. And then flashed through the living room way into the kitchen. And we were laughing so hard we couldn't do anything to stop it. Which probably would've made me an accomplice to the murder.

When the bag finally stopped running, I ran over to comfort J who was the most terrified I've ever seen an animal. She was breathing rapidly, all puffed out and hunkered down hissing her life away. I grabbed the bag to cut the handles off so she would never have to suffer such entanglement again and the bag was wet. And then I looked around. The carpet was wet. Dear god, my cat had pissed herself from fear.

This realization only made the laughing worse which scared her more and then it just spiraled into a pee-filled laughterfest. Once she calmed down I was able to clean her peepants and comfort her while stiffling my giggles.

Paper bags are no longer allowed in the house of meoww. They are a threat to meowws worldwide and should probably be outlawed due to their murderous nature.

*JMEOWW thinks in caps-lock and would probably swear a lot.

I'm sure Jessica is a nice woman...

I was going to write an entire post about my hair and how I am growing it out and how it is making me crazy, but I decided to spare you such boredom. Long story short: In 2009 I wanted to be Victoria Beckham. In 2012 I am still paying for that.

CASE IN POINT.

The extreme emotional trauma that growing out my hair is causing me reminded me of the times that I wore Jessica Simpson hair extensions (pre-posh cut, mind-you. This was circa 2007). I'd like to send out a huge thank you to all of those who let me do so without telling me how awful they looked. SERIOUSLY, you guys? I'm going to hold on to this forever and one day when your hair looks awful and you say, "Why didn't you tell me?" I'm just going to walk away shouting "JESSICA SIMPSON!" One day when you need help fixing your hair for an important event? JESSICA SIMPSON! And you're going to be all, "What does she have to do with anything?" and I'll say, "Did she really name her baby girl Maxwell?" And then I will forget about the extensions and move on with my life.

Also, if you are going through an awkward growing out phase with your hair as I am, Confessions of a Hair Stylist will save you. Jenny posts very easy-to-follow tutorials and once my hair is about a half an inch longer I think I can totally master some of them!

My missing childhood

Because it's Friday and because I am only halfway through a multitude of jam-packed weekends and because my boyfriend is meeting most of the rest of my family this weekend, I am going to give you guys an opportunity to verbally abuse me. Does that make any sense? Does it matter?

Here is why. I was raised in a cave. Mom, I know you are reading this and I would apologize but this is entirely your fault. How I grew up to be such a well-rounded human being is practically a miracle considering what I missed out on. What the hell am I ranting about?

Here is a list of culturally significant movies that I have not seen (or seen in their entirety), in no particular order:

The Goonies

The Neverending Story

Willow

The Princess Bride

Labyrinth

Dark Crystal

A Christmas Story

Raiders of the Lost Ark (or any Indian Jones movies)

Ghostbusters

Stand by Me

Weird Science

Beetlejuice

Fright Night

Evil Dead 1,2 and Army of Darkness*

Rocky. All of them.

Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure

The Terminator movies

Robocop

The Matrix

Lord of the Rings 

Harry Potter

The Bourne series

Firefly & Serenity*

Okay, okay. The last few there are my fault as I was probably old enough to choose to watch them myself. I suspect I was too scarred from my childhood to not even think about watching them. Thankfully my boyfriend cares enough about me to make up for the severe lack of cinematic culturization I experienced as a child. We have already conquered the original Star Wars trilogy, Alien, and Aliens.

I hope you all will continue to accept me in your lives. I understand how different I am, and I am working through it one day at a time.

*As deemed culturally significant by the boyfriend.

I met THE QUEEN.

Tuesday night I went to my first ever book signing to meet one of my most favorite people in the world. And by world I mean Internet. You guys I met The Bloggess, Jenny Lawson. I read her blog religiously and have been for a few years now. Her writing is not only some of the funniest shit I have ever read, but also at times painfully honest about her struggles with depression, anxiety and other mental health issues. And I find that so damn inspiring. She is one of my blogging heroes and was just as amazing and adorable in person as I would have expected.

Copernicus, The Bloggess, & an overexcited me.

She read a chapter from her book, Let's Pretend this Never Happened (which you should totally read if you like to laugh). The chapter about overdosing on laxatives, naturally. And in true Bloggess fashion, she admitted to us before she began speaking that she had in fact taken one too many anti-anxiety pills. Amazing.

If you are unfamiliar with The Bloggess, here are some of my favorite posts

Serious & Amazing Shit

The fight goes on

Tightrope walker

The Traveling Red Dress


Shit that literally made me laugh out loud

Beyonce the giant metal chicken

You're ruining Nathan Fillion for me, Nathan Fillion

The Nathan Fillion post is how I got Justin to send me a picture of him holding a can opener way before he was my boyfriend and HAD to do such a thing. Which made my life, naturally. Which I told her as she signed my book, naturally. I also told her that when she followed me on twitter I totally peed my pants. But not like literally. Oh my god I rambled. What a dork.

Anyways, if you enjoy shenanigans, taxidermy, and metal chickens, you can happily consider yourself a Lawsbian. We are a proud bunch of misfits.

Music: The XX

If you haven't heard this song yet, you're doing life wrong. It is quite possibly the most delicate and sugary sappy love songs I've heard recently. What? Is that really a question? OF COURSE I cried the first time I heard it. Listen and then we can talk.

Again, I realize my blog updates are a little overemotional lately. But so am I. Love is an overwhelming and powerful thing and causing my emotionometer to go all wacky. Emotionometer. It's a thing now. Make it happen.

Music has always been a pillar in our relationship. Our first kind-of-date was at his best friend's band's show. Then a week later I forced him to go to a fest put together by a local radio station that featured a few bands, most notably Florence & the Machine and Noel Gallagher's High-Flying Birds. Wonderwall happened. And then I died of happy. And during a time when we weren't even supposed to be speaking to each other, we drank whiskey and listened to music for hours which made me fall even more in love than I already was. So busted.

So the first time I listened to this song and actually paid attention, I immediately picked up the phone WHILE DRIVING to tell him to listen to it. It was a necessary risk.

If you like this, you will most likely enjoy all of the lovely music by The XX. Just remember to be aware of your emotionometer.

His Best Friend's Wedding

Sunday will henceforth be known as "Wedding Recovery Days." Saturday was the special day of Justin's best friend in which he married the love of his life (which he met online!). The couple, Justin and Mireya (Yes, another Justin. Don't get confused, please) chose to have their special day at his parents' house, which made for a very lovely and intimate day. Also, hot. In addition to all of the love that day there was also so much sweat. I completely abandoned any attempt at a wedding appropriate hairstyle and threw it up in a bun. Did you read that? A BUN. It's official.

As you probably know by now, I am quite an emotional person. I am a cryer. The Olympics, Grey's Anatomy, weather. It all makes me cry. But something about this wedding literally had me in tears every four seconds. Here are some possible explanations:

• The vows. They wrote their own. I've never been to a wedding in which this has happened and it was so special. I could never get through reading my own vows without turning into a slobbering mess.

• The music: The groom is a musician and song choices were spot on. Meaning, torture for me. The mother/son dance was to "Baby Mine" from Dumbo which is the number one reason why I am 29 years old and cry when I watch Dumbo. Later in the night, the groom's parents and sister sang "I Won't Give Up" by Jason Mraz. Yes, they sang. So much talent in one family. And the topper was when Mireya's sister sang "The Wedding Song" by Angus & Julia Stone. I completely lost my shit. Good thing Justin doesn't embarrass easily and this was later in the night because I could not stop the tears. You MUST listen to this song right now:

I'll give you a moment to collect yourself....Pretty major, right? When we got home and I was changing for bed, I found not one but two tissues stuffed down my bra (I was keeping them close at hand for these moments, not for enhancement!). I forgot they were even there.

It was an incredibly special day that allowed us to make some great new friends and reflect even more on our relationship. Which is pretty badass.

Linking up with Leeann, Sami, & Dana for Weekend Update.

Only almost a month later...

So all the way back in July Leeann of Join the Gossip tagged me in a random facts post which is stupid because she's known me since 7th grade. But for the rest of you who haven't, I will take this opportunity to give you 10 random facts about me, answer 10 questions, and then tag people because I like to put people on the spot.

Facts.

1. I am a recovering diet soda addict. I broke my habit of about 4 a day to about 3 a week. All thanks to my lovely boyfriend who convinced me I WAS GOING TO DIE. Diet Cherry Pepsi was my weapon of choice.

2. I dislike birds. Clarification: most birds. Penguins don't count. Especially penguin chicks. Other birds, absolutely disgusting and awful.

3. I'm 5'11. That's a huge bitch.

4. Chuck Palahniuk is my favorite author. David Sedaris is a close second.

5. I have 3 sisters, 2 of which are twins.

6. Laughlin, Nevada is one of my favorite places to travel and I love going with my parents. So that Mom and I can sit at a blackjack table for hours on end and get completely shwasted AND win money.

7. I modeled for a hot minute in my early 20s but I was too fat. Not my words, but a size 4-6 was considered plus-size and well I'm not really a fan of exercise.

8. I don't eat seafood. ANY. No, not that kind either. I KNOW IT TASTES GOOD, to you. I get it.

9.  I love football. Chargers, naturally.

10. The only places I've traveled outside MERICA are in Mexico. So, so much more to do.

Questions.

1. What is your profession? I work as a writer in the Education & Conservation Department at SeaWorld. It's a long explanation, but if you ask I'll tell you more!

2. How would you describe your style? I once told my boyfriend that I was "Target Snotty." Meaning I like to look nice, but I like to do it on a budget. Big accessories, bright shirts, tight jeans. That's me.

3. What one makeup product can you not live without? Does chapstick count? Then chapstick.

4. If you could be besties, with one celebrity who would it be? Chelsea Handler. Read her books, immediately.

5. What is your dream vacation? Laughlin. Just kidding. Somewhere tropical, relaxing, and all-inclusive. I can't be picky. Beggars cant be choosers. Except I don't want to get murdered so maybe I should be more selective.

6. What magazines do you subscribe to? What? People still do this? Okay, I do still get Glamour but that's because it was a gift subscription. And my bestie gives me a crapload of magazines that her grandma subscribes to. I appreciate grandma's free Vogue mags.

7. If you could have any special talent what would it be? Contortionist. Seriously though, I'm the least flexible person I know. Which is sad because I've always wanted to be a gymnast. Imagine realizing at a young age that you would be too tall to accomplish your dreams. Cry with me, internet.

8. What is your favorite breakfast food? CHEESE DANISH. Not a food, I realize.

9. What is your dream job? Being a regular on SNL. Kristen Wiig changed my life, y'all. She's so talented and it is absolutely inspiring.

10. What is your guilty pleasure? PBR. Tall cans. I think I just won at life.

Now, for the tagging. Because I've seen a lot of posts of this type lately, I will spare some of you and only tag two of you: Kathrin of Shop.School.Sleep & Emily of Nerd Love 101.

Imma touch your buttons...

So two months ago I started this blog. And I've learned some things, but not nearly enough. Here is what I have learned so far:

• You blogging bitches are awesome and hilarious and constantly inspiring me to want me to write more and better. MORE BETTER.
• I don't dress nearly cute enough and my hair is not nearly long enough to make a bun.
• There is not enough time to read all of the blogs I follow each day and still have a normal life. There's never any time! 

• Blogging is WORK. Reading, commenting, reading and responding to comments, tweeting, entering giveaways (haha!), finding more and more wonderful bloggers to follow. I'm EXHAUSTED.
• I had a mental list of nice things to say and then I forgot.

Overall I have learned that I don't know what I am doing. YET. So, in the spirit of not knowing what the hell I am doing, I made a button. It's not the fanciest button in the world, but I love it (until I decide on a damn blog design...). That said, I will be grabbing your buttons. I know there is supposed to be some official button swap or something to that effect where we hold hands and spin in a circle and on the count of three make a wish and trade buttons. But that is all a part of the stuff I don't get yet, and the stuff I'm not sure I care if I get or not. The thing is, I just really like you guys and I want to touch your buttons. Too much too soon? Deal with it.

In which I make a terrible mistake.

For the past two days I have been dizzy, nauseous, tired, and weepy. And shut your dirty mouth right now there is not anything spawning inside of me. I'm trying to be serious here! I slept A LOT Sunday and then watched the saddest and best documentaries I've ever seen, Dear Zachary. Now let me tell you, it was emotional. But I was CRY-ING. Like, let me pause this part so I can sob for four minutes type of crying.  I chalked it up to being overtired and the sheer intensity of the story that was being told. Then I went up to see the man after he had been in Vegas for two days and I immediately melted into tears when I walked through the door. Because that damn documentary was SO SAD, right?

I left work after two hours on Monday because I was shaky, tired, and seriously weepy. After sleeping for about four hours, I laid in bed thinking what the fuck is going on. And then, DING DING DING. I tried to remember the last time I took my Effexor and could not remember. Mystery, solved. And dear god I am kicking myself in the ass right now because I feel absolutely terrible and it is entirely my fault. It was a busy weekend and I simply forgot.

I've tried to quit taking antidepressants several times in my life and have failed miserably each time because well, you just aren't supposed to do that. But my biggest fear is that even if I want to slowly taper off, all of the above will be every day of my life. And isn't that just awful? I am happier than I can ever remember but I am completely dependent on a pill for my stability. I know, I know. You quit them. Your friend did it. Your mom's cousin's best friend did it. I get it. I just can't.

At least not right now. I've taken some major strides to help with the anxiety side of the issue but even sometimes that comes around and bites me in the ass. Which leads to a similar spiral. I was doing so well, what happened?

Nothing happened. This is not conditional, it is who I am. I will continue to change as much as I can in my life to ease the effects. And I will hopefully never again forget to take my pills this many days in a row.

Photo 411 linkup!

The lovely Erin of Shades of Gray and a Pinch of Pink is hosting a really fun photo linkup and I love me some photos. I am taking this opportunity to make a fool of myself because some of the ones I found are hilarious. Let's get to the shitshow!

#1 My Little Tyke Self

If you've ever wondered if the "bitchface" was a lifelong thing, here is your proof. And no, I sure didn't have enough hair for a ponytail until I was 4-years old. Thanks a lot, genetics.

#2 My High School Self

Post braces shot. Can you tell I was excited? And who in the hell ever let me cut or dye my hair?!? It hasn't looked like this in years!

#3 My College Self

This is the part of the photo tour in which I logged into my photobucket account that I haven't used since MySpace days and then I peed my pants. Because I was such a piece of work, I'm giving you two photos as my punishment for acting like such an asshole.

You guys, I legitimately wore those sunglasses out in public. Not to mention, at night. And then on the right we have the Emo Tiffany Phase which was awesome. This was not only when I discovered emo music, but also antidepressants. Thanks for the memories, 2005.

#4 My Right Now Self

Drunk, silly, and happy is how you will find me most of the time now (okay maybe not drunk most of the time, that actually sounded pretty awful). I've been having my moments of anxiety and stress, but overall you will find me giggling and being a total dumbass in a good way. Happy Tiffany is an even weirder Tiffany and you know what, I like it! I also really like my eyeshadow in this picture.

#5 My Furry Friend

Oddly enough I know someone who is actually a furry and I thought about posting his picture but I didn't want to give you all nightmares. Luckily, Erin clarified to use a PET so be sure to thank her for that. This bitch needs no introduction. Here she is blocking my access to food. She is slowly killing me.

#6 My Manly Friend

I didn't ask for his approval for this photo but I don't care because I love it. SO THERE. This be the man that makes me smile. So much. I cancelled my cable subscription to save some money so I was missing out on a lot of the Olympics which I obsess over. And you know what this guy did? He bought me an antenna so I could get NBC to watch the Olympics. Now if he could only assassinate the commentators...

#7 Where I Once Lived

Chino, California y'all. Okay, this is actually Chino Hills which is considerably nicer than regular Chino where I grew up and where my parents still live and one time their neighbors had a chicken coop in the backyard. In the suburbs. On a non-smoggy day we do have a lovely view of the San Bernadino Mountains, which Chino and the rest of the Inland Empire sit below. It's not an awful place like The OC made it out to be.

Image via chinohillsestates.com

#8 Where I Live Now

University Heights neighborhood of San Diego, California. How cute is that sign? On both sides there is an ostrich, which is apparently our city mascot which is wonderful because one time I dressed up as an ostrich. I LOVE this little neighborhood. I am a block away from the main strip which is home to a liquor store with one of the best beer selections in San Diego, an awesome bar with one of the best beer selections in San Diego, a fancy little cocktail bar, and my favorite dive bar in the entire world.

#9 What I Love

I love this picture and moments like this. It explains everything that is wrong but yet so right with my family and friends.

#10 What I Miss

These little monsters (nephew & niece) and my godchild. Life has been incredibly busy and isn't letting up any time soon. I miss having so much extra time to spend with the kiddos. But that makes the times I do get to see them even more special.

The Finest Happy Hour in AMERICA

I used the crappy artichoke photo in the upper right
to prove that there are HEALTHY options.

Living in America's finest city, we are surrounded by some of the best restaurants in the world. Which means some of the best happy hours in the world. Some of my favorites include La Puerta, Casa Guadalajara, and R-Gang Eatery. (I only included those because I like to pretend I have good taste in restaurants.) Although we have an endless array of options for amazing food and drinks at reduced costs, my friends and I have become weekly regulars at one of the best establishments in the city: Black Angus. You read that correctly. The Bullseye Bar, more specifically.


Wikipedia tells us that Black Angus is a steakhouse chain that has been around since 1964, making it a classic. And I love me anything vintage. We love The Blangus' Bullseye Bar for many other reasons:

• You can drink and eat more than any one person ever should for less than $20.
• There is never a wait for a table.
• Tuesdays feature ALL NIGHT HAPPY HOUR. Meaning we were there until nearly 10pm. 
• You can look like a hot mess (as I usually look after work even though I sit at a desk all day) and not one person in there will judge you (because you will still probably be the best dressed customer).
• We have "our" waitress that has our orders memorized (drinks AND custom food items) and you guys, this past visit she finally asked us all our names. So you know, it's not weird anymore.
• Also OUR WAITRESS makes us our own special garlic bread. See above photo. We are so in.
• THE REGULARS. Oh dear god. Wait, we are regulars. THE OTHER REGULARS.
• And finally, we bring to you the Fresh Berry Cowboy Cookie. One of the greatest things that will ever go in your mouth.

Should you choose to visit your neighborhood Black Angus, do be careful with the amount of food that you choose to consume. Otherwise you will be hit with an ailment called, "The Blangus." Yes, the nickname of The Country's Finest Establishment is the same as the abdominal pain/baby you will be faced with later in the evening. However, it is well worth the risk.

And no, this isn't a sponsored post. No one would ever have to pay me to eat here. I love it THAT much. Well not as much as these folks. Pretty sure they own Black Angus.

The Jonaks have a special kind of love for The Blangus.