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!

On my nerds.

My cousin's son said that once and now I will say it forever. I don't rant a lot on here, I just talk a lot. And swear a lot. And drink a lot. But guess what? Some things have been raising my blood pressure lately. Let's talk, shall we?

#1 Shminterest.
Okay, I get pinterest. I use pinterest. I love it. But dear god, I feel like it is just encouraging people to be more obnoxious than they already are in every other social media outlet. It is perpetuating ignorant humor. And the spelling and grammar, don't even get me started. Yourecards ruined humor, forever. Someecards were pure brilliance, but once we let people with the sense of humor of my 90-year old grandma make their own, shit started falling apart. And that baby polar bear that everyone keeps repinning? IT IS FAKE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. Get off pinterest for 5 fucking minutes and read a book. Maybe one of the 75 books that you've pinned quotes from. Try those.

But really? Are they?

It can't be funny with a blatant typo. I CAN'T LAUGH.

#2 "Obama is silly OMG LOLZ"
Stephanie already covered this a wee bit. Yes, election season makes us all crazy. Thankfully, it is almost over. And luckily, we only have to endure it every four years. And by "endure it" I mean "endure the ignorant and obnoxious assholes that election season brings out." Really ladies, take some fucking pride in living in a country in which you GET to vote and have your voice heard. It is not cute to make jokes about how much you don't know about politics. We all have different levels of knowledge and interest in politics and that is fine. On a scale of 1 to Rachel Maddow, I'm like a 4 when it comes to political knowledge. It's not even the opposite team players that are pissing me off this year. It is the ladies of voting age all over the blogosphere, and twitter, and facebook mocking the election and proudly acknowledging that they don't get it OMG LOL. And if perhaps you do reap some benefits from the government and its associated programs on any level, you should be the first person in line to vote. I'm embarrassed for you. I'm ashamed of you. And I'm afraid for your future children. Get it together, ladies.

Whoa. I feel better already.