the vacation, part 2: solvang and the time I ruined vacation.

Our next and final destination would be Solvang, but of course we made some tourist stops along the way. If you'd like to skip past the touristy stuff to the shitshow, please scroll down. I won't be offended.

Harmony — Please tell me you read/said that in your Anna Faris voice. With a population of 18, this town is a treasure.

Cayucos — A totally foggy and quiet beach city most famous for their brown butter cookies.

San Luis Obispo  — We made a quick stop for lunch and a tour of the one place I've wanted to stop more than any other my entire life, The Madonna Inn. I didn't take many pictures because I was too busy being mystified. You know who has some great pictures? Michelle. Go look.

Los Alamos — Another small town, surprise! Our drive for the day was rather short so we decided to start stopping at wineries. You know, being in wine country and all. Seriously, everything north of Los Angeles is wine country. Also known as heaven. Yelp led the way to Bedford Winery, a darling little place in a Nicholas Sparksian town. Somewhere between there and Solvang was Firestone Vineyards, the second and last stop of the day that set me over the edge. WHAT AN AMATEUR. I should've taken this as a sign...

And finally, we reached Solvang! If you live in California and you haven't been to this little jewel of a town, YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG. Michelle happens to have a great post about it too (sorry for being such a stealer!). This Danish little town was a childhood staple, and although everything closes early (8-9 p.m.), it has so much to offer during the day.

Hotel — Kronborg Inn. We were both a little worried what this place would be like because the rate was relatively low for the area, but the room was amazing. Totally roomy, and best of all it had a jacuzzi tub! You bet your ass I drank some of our new wine in that tub the first night.

Foods —  Breakfast is the shit in this town. Danish pancakes and ebelskivers will change your life. We went to Paula's Pancake House (to die for) & The Red Viking (not bad, but smelled terrible). The first night we had dinner at Solvang Brewing Company and while the beer was marvelous, the food was meh. The second night, we didn't really have dinner...we will get there...

Attractions — Beyond bopping around town to the shops, some short drives will take you to amazing scenery and roadside attractions — Ostrichland USA (only slightly terrifying), Quicksilver Ranch (mini horses!), and the former home of Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch (which I INSISTED we drive by even though it is way out in the boonies and you can't see a damn thing).

And then, WINE. So. Rather than take a bus tour of wineries, we opted for a DIY wine tour. Which Solvang could not be more perfect for. Many of the local vineyards have their wine tasting rooms in town...IN TOWN. Walking distance from our hotel. SO EASY, right? Right. Rigggggght.

Here is what went down:
Blackjack Ranch Vineyards (made famous by Sideways! Omg enough ...). But really, you can taste the price. Divine.
Presidio Winery where the wine-pourer gave us extra tastes because he loved Justin.
Sort This Out Cellars was my favorite not only because I can remember it, but also because it was a had a really unique rockabilly/vintage flair.
Carvintas won my heart because they combine wine with animal philanthropy.

And then it starts getting blurry. We remembered that we hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, so we went to the other edge of town and had quesadillas. Quesadillas and also beer. Then we stumbled into Viking Garden Cellars because I had a coup for a free cheese tray and I really wanted cheese. I couldn't even tell you what we tasted. Wine. More wine. And then I wanted another beer, so let's taste some of these beers!

Along the way to the what would be our last stop, we went into the Hans Christian Andersen Museum. Which was a library/museum/drunk people don't belong in here type of place. And because Solvang is basically a memorial to HCA, I sang the HCA song (which I mostly made up...) all throughout town, naturally.

The Good Life was our last stop and I remember choosing beer tasting over wine. I remember telling the guy not to serve me San Diego beers because I would not be impressed, like a total asshole. And I remember asking if the were on twitter SO I COULD TWEET THEM BECAUSE I TWEET AND BLOG. Oh my god. I did all of these things in public.

What I don't remember is how I got back to the hotel, took my clothes off, sang Hans Christian Andersen and then proceeded to regurgitate all of the liquids I had been drinking for the past 5 hours. What I do remember is Justin sitting on the bathroom floor next to me trying to get my head out of the toilet, which I refused to do. Because I was too busy sobbing. Not weeping. SOBBING. And apologizing for ruining vacation. And telling him not to break up with me OH MY GOD YOU ARE GOING TO BREAK UP WITH ME AREN'T YOU. In between dry-heaving and wiping tears and snot from my face I was wailing about how I was awful and I ruined vacation.

I don't remember what Justin was doing, but I do remember that he laughed. A lot. And then he put me to bed. At 6 p.m. on the last night of our vacation. So I technically didn't ruin vacation, but Justin has reminded me of how I thought I ruined vacation more than his fair share of times. I GET IT. Next time, there will be more cheese with the wine and this won't even happen.

After a quick stop in LA to visit his brother and sister-in-law, we finally made it home (to the jmeoww, who has her own vacation story to tell...) totally refreshed and only mildly hungover. With the exception of the Tiffany Wine Show on our last night, it was truly a wonderful trip and an excellent way to start my third decade.

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...

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.

"I don't think nuns drink..." "It's the blood of Christ!"

Monday, WHY? I'm too tired to make strings of words, so please enjoy this mild selection of photos from our Annual Golota Halloween Party (in which I did not sleep in the front yard but two people did and one of them was dressed like Wilma, ALLEDGEDLY).

Mom & Her Girls (Me, Daisy Duck, Brittany the Chipette, & Sable)

It's funny because it's ironic.

Blessing our Chipette, Brittany. Justin invented
the two-finger blessing.

Bonding with my sister, I guess?

We are drunk ninjas.

 Kick ass this week, my friends.

Hipster Big Bird.

I'm a little peeved. Due to the fact that the biggest controversy to come out of this election season is a controversy I created years ago. Sexy Big Bird costume is so 2010, you guys.

This was also the year that I drank a half a bottle of tequila and passed out in the front yard. Of my parents' house. Dressed as Big Bird. I will give you a moment to absorb that.

You see, it was my sister's 30th birthday and her special day just happens to fall on Halloween. So we decided to have the first of what would become a traditional Halloween bash. At my parents' house. Where parties were forbidden in my day.

That up there? That's us dancing on my father's pool table. On a normal day he doesn't let me sit on the edge of it because it might get thrown off balance. But on Halloween, all the rules are thrown out the door. 

Also thrown out the door was my common sense that year. I was going through a phase where tequila shots were my thing. I repeat, I took multiple shots of tequila rather than drink like a normal person (except for those beers I can't seem to put down, ever). I carried around my own bottle all night. Because it was MY THING.

You already know where this is going. Let me explain what was going through my head when I made the decision to head out the front door and lie down in the cool grass. We had a DJ and it was incredibly loud. My dad was smoking a cigar in the house because according to my mother who was dressed as Anna Nicole Smith, it was his party too! We all had great rationale that night. So I was hot, it was loud, and it was smoky. Who wouldn't head outdoors to the cool, quiet, and plushy grass?

Hours later my parents were alerted to my presence in the front yard by my mom's dog (my savior and love of my life). Which meant that EVERY SINGLE PERSON at the party came out front to witness me sleeping (okay, and occasionally vomiting) in the grass. They tried to get me inside. I refused. I was comfortable. I was FINE YOU GUYS. Oh my god just get me a blanket and let me be!

Finally much to my mother's elation, my sister's in-laws dragged my ass inside and dropped me in the bathroom where I remained for about 10 hours. Until I figured out how to get upstairs, where I remained for the next day and a half surrounded by my own shame and everyone elses' amusement.

To answer your questions, tequila is no longer my thing. And yes, my family and friends are still not over this nor will they ever be. And yes, there are photos but I threatened bodily harm if they ever met the internet.

If one of the thousands of people dressing as Big Bird can top that, then they may have the glory. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure I won the Big Bird contest before it was cool.

The annual Chino Halloween Party is tomorrow. Wish me luck!

We went to Vegas and came back unmarried!

Well, we somehow managed to return from Vegas relatively unscathed and very much so unmarried. I know, I know. Some of you were hoping that I would get him drunk enough to hop in a cab and go to the drive-through wedding chapel. Okay so maybe I am the only one. Whatever. But really, this might have been the best weekend of my life.

When we arrived on Thursday we headed to check Justin in for his convention (which I will not be going into detail here because although it was mind-boggling and often hilarious, these are the people that keep him employed and are therefore off-limits. But if you are interested, it was SOE Live. Google will do the rest). Because we were starving we ate at the closest place we could find, Le Burger Brasserie. Where I quickly decided that the 100 ounce tower of beer would be the most economical way to get drunk. Because above all, I am an economical drinker. 

Okay, I just forgot everything else that happened that night. It was a long time ago, really.

Friday we wandered the strip most of the afternoon and managed to get DAY DRUNK, BITCHES. Which Justin announced multiple times. MULTIPLE times. We had some "walking beers" and I played my favorite game, "Is that what my ass looks like?" The answer is usually, No. This was a great opportunity to show Justin the great ways of penny slots. And he was instantly addicted. 

While I was getting ready for dinner Justin played his favorite game, "Drink along to the Boston drinking songs!" So by the time we finished up dinner at Margaritaville and had too many of their powerful, fruity, and acidic concotions Justin was down for the count. Which was fine because I wanted to resume my important mermaid time in the jacuzzi tub. I also learned that if you plan on spilling a full drink on your lap, it is best to do so wearing a pleather skirt. That shit just wipes right off. Incredible!

Saturday saw much, much more gambling. Much more day-drinking on my behalf (he had some work to do in the afternoon and had to hold off). And much more mermaid time, this time with BUBBLES! Saturday night was our fancy night and we went to Gallagher's Steakhouse in our hotel. They are famous for doing something to their meat that I still don't understand, but I do know that it makes it taste amazing. It was most definitely the nicest dinner that anyone has ever taken me to. He does things like that, this guy right here.

And then we spent the rest of the night playing slots! We of course nerded out and played the Lord of the Rings, Ghostbusters, the Dark Knight, and many more. And the Hangover slots are the coolest. But we were most successful on a system that features "group play" in which everyone gets a bonus! Because it's the damn bonuses that keep you going, and going and hold on I need to go get more cash.

I have this embarrassing habit of talking to the old people that sit next to me at machines. And I cheer for them and get all involved in their business. Because I know that one day that will be me and some young bitches better be cheering for me when I win $3 on a bonus round.

We also eventually started yelling at the machines. And scaring questionable people away from us. I guess when you are sitting next to two nicely dressed people yelling "Fuck you, HORSE!" during the bonus round in a slot machine where $6 is at stake, you might get a little creeped out too. But really, we did pretty well and if I wasn't such a poor gambling influence we might have walked away with more money.

It was a spectacularly fun and oddly enough, relaxing weekend. Blackout curtains, a king size bed, and a jacuzzi tub will do that to you. Until next year, Vegas. You did us good.

And, we're off!

Holy hell, FINALLY. I thought this vacation would never come. I haven't had a vacation since April (Oh, my first blog post!)! I am going to make the best attempt I can to detach from my cell phone so I can focus on having fun and also my blackjack hands. Also, I hear if you drop your cell phone in a jacuzzi tub it breaks. So it will stay somewhere safe.

In my absence, please peruse some of my favorite old posts.

Gal Pal weekend in Palm Desert

A Magical Night

So this mom walks into a bar...

Only almost a month later...

The JMEOWW Diaries V.1

And if you miss Justin too you should visit his writing space, Pixelated Trip. He's a smart one, that man of mine.

I'll be back on Monday with some (hopefully entertaining) Vegas stories!

Vegas lies.

What happens in Vegas does NOT stay in Vegas because we all love a good shitshow. Am I right? With our Vegas trip on the horizon, I thought I would share some of my most favorite Vegas shitshow moments with you.

• The time a very awful, awful girl asked me if I forgot to put clothes on and then I cried and then almost got arrested at a liquor store for having a fake ID when in fact it was my real ID and the lady at the counter said, "Psht, not with THAT nose." Worst trip of my life.
• The time I went with a bunch of girls for work and it was just dramatic and oh dear god I'm having PTSD.

• The time I made my BFF fly out from Colorado to meet me on a trip I had planned for a boyfriend that I broke up with before said trip occurred. And the first night we found a bar where women drink FO FREE so I drank for free all the beer I could fit in my tummy and then some. And then because the strip was ridiculously dead we had a really weird photo shoot. We got lost in City Center, more than once. We saw a drag show. We molestered wax people.

• The time my little sister and I went to see Mumford & Sons and stayed at the Hooter's Hotel & Casino because we are classy like that and also she wasn't 21 yet. And we walked the strip to watch Robyn on the big screen of The Cosmopolitan and made friends with homeless rockabillies. And went to the PBR bar and ate the largest sampler platter known to man after Brooke got challenged by a much old man to an arm wrestling contest. And after eating all that fried food we rode a mechanical bull and her boobs almost fell out. Also, we saw Mumford & Sons are our hearts are still full of memories of that special night.
  
  

Okay, so mayyyyybe my trips are a little mild. Tell me your Vegas shitshow stories. You know you want to. What happens in blogland stays in blogland.

You guys, it's over.

Yes, it is true. Wedding Bonanza 2012 has officially ended. Until December. What will I do with all of my free time?!? Wait, there is no such thing. I am booked up through November. This must be why people do drugs.

Back to wedding 5/5! This was the wedding of my friend Kyle, and his lovely now-wife Jamie. Kyle is a friend from my high school job and a few years ago his job brought him to San Diego. We've literally grown up together and he has always been one of my most favorite people in the world. I can't blame him for choosing the hottest day in the world to get married.

Apartment planners really need to reconsider AC placement.

We talk about sweat a lot on this blog, I know. But seriously in the 10 years I've lived in San Diego, I have never experienced temperatures above 100 degrees. There was no way to gracefully deal with it. As evidenced above. Luckily Justin's apartment has AC so I got to have my Marilyn moment. Dreams come true, you guys.

Was that tangent #2? Does it seem like I'm avoiding the topic at hand here? Maybe I am. Maybe because an ex-boyfriend (that I kind of have a strange history with. Not kind of. Totally.) was at this wedding and him and Justin immediately bonded. THE ENTIRE NIGHT. I literally had to shush Justin when the ceremony began. Omg you two can talk after, seriously calm down. I'll meet you two when you are done taking BFF pictures in the photobooth. No, it's fine you two hang out I'll just continue to deal with my awkwardness by drinking. All the drinks.

Yes, I was incredibly awkward about it. But you know what's really great? Justin wasn't, at all. And that is something that I cannot take for granted because a lesser man would've been a complete asshole about it or just as awkward as I was. Did I mention I was being awkward about it? And when they exchanged phone numbers and probably secret handshakes, all I could do was laugh. I'm pretty sure this is what being an adult is. Dealing with life's really strange moments gracefully. Or with whiskey.

My favorite moment of this wedding happened as I was dancing with one of the groomsmen, yet another hometown boy who is know a full-fledged hipster, the Brooklyn kind. This is probably one of my favorite conversations of all time.

him: Tiffany, DANCE!

me: *dances*

him: NO, not like that! Dance better.

There is no dancing better when you've been taking whiskey shots and are in 4-inch heels. There is only balancing.

And because this post isn't long enough, I'd also like to mention that in my hungover state on Sunday, Leeann and I met Christina! For brunch with bottomless mimosas! My first time meeting a blogger IRL was everything I hoped it would be and I've decided that if she lived in San Diego, we would be super friends. 

And now I'm going to crawl back in bed.

Wedding Whirlwind Part 4

You guys, guess what? We went to a wedding this weekend! Stop with the surprise. I get it. But yes, we did go to Wedding #4 of 5 for the summer. The end is in sight. I'm not sure my liver can handle another one.

This wedding was of a friend of my bestfriendcousin, Mandy, that I became friends with too. The couple, Angie & Travis, are two of the most genuinely sweet and happy people I've ever known. Seriously, so much smiling happened during the ceremony and it was adorable. No tears from me this time! That doesn't mean it wasn't lovely, it just means that I've been taking my meds properly.

We met up with my cousin and her husband before the wedding so that she could meet Justin. Yes, my bestfriendcousin had not yet met the man. So they had some bonding time over a few beers before we made our way to the wedding. I was especially glad to spend some time with her because she moved away from me earlier this year, so we don't get to spend much time together anymore. Which is quite unfortunate because when we get together, we do things like this:

As if the bronzed children weren't bad enough on their own.

One of my favorite parts of the night included our table company, Team Crossfit. Crossfit instructors and participants. Now we are not the most physically fit people you will meet. Again with the shocking statements. But after about 30 minutes the instructor had converted Justin to the darkside. Which he denied the next day. How quickly we forget.

So again, Sunday was recovery day and this time it took much longer for me to bounce back. Because I drank all the booze. Late Sunday morning when I woke up, Justin kindly commented on how I was snoring loudly all morning. False, I say. I don't snore, I say.

I thought you might say that, he says. Are you serious with that right now? Did you really video me snoring? Yes. He did. It amused the shit out of him. Luckily his blackberry from 1964 barely picked up any sound which means I was in fact NOT snoring. I was sleeping with my knees bent up though, which needs some further analysis. But point being, we amuse the shit out of each other. Which I am so fortunate for all of the time because who else would willingly attend 4 weddings in 8 weeks with a smile on their face and wear a shiny red cowboy hat? That guy right there.

"Anyone can be passionate. But it takes real
lovers to be silly." - Rose Franken

Linking up with the ladies of Weekend Update: Leeann, Sami & Dana.

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!

A wedding and a near funeral.

This weekend was the first of the 5 weddings I have to attend in the next 9 weeks. You may have heard me mention that one or 16 times here. The couple, Bryan & Michelle, started out as friends of my sisters and then at some point we all decided to adopt them because they are wonderful and hilarious. Bryan also happens to be one of my favorite drinking buddies. Our favorite game is called, "see how much beer you can drink in one night." So needless to say, we knew it was going to be fun and dear god it got wild.

This is going to call for a lot of photos because #1 I don't get dressed up much and #2 I don't remember that much.

Oldest sister Jennifer, me, niece Samantha, and little sister Brooke
looking all ladylike early in the night.

Big sisser Jennifer.

This little studly nephew of mine
wearing the bowtie he requested.

He loves when I take 14,000 pictures of him. Little shit. 

Twin sisser Brittany was a bridesmaid. This is one of 2 new
dance moves I learned that night, The Bernie. The other is the burning tree.
I don't know what that means.

Me, Jennifer, cousin Jamie (alter ego Damie), and the twins.

And this is where is gets weird. That man in the photo above is my father. To say that my dad loves the groom is an understatement. He is the son he never had. They drink, swear, and watch sports and hbo porn together. It's such a lovely relationship. So dad, in rare form, busted out his famous wedding dance performance to "Shout" by the Isley Brothers. He has been doing this for as long as I can remember and not a wedding slips by without it happening. It is one of the few reasons that I would actually want to have a real wedding with a reception. Because as I told anyone that would listen, I'm not having one of these. 

This led to the "near funeral" because as you may be able to tell, my dad isn't exactly what you would call "in shape." But it was well worth the near heart attack. A true gift from Gary Golota.

I've been calling them "The Floreses" for years...it's finally official!

Some super hot messes at the end of the night.

As you can probably tell, it was an open bar and we totally destroyed it. In order to bond with my cousin's husband that I'm not that close with, he decided it would be a good idea to take shots. And more shots. And a few more with the groom for good measure. Bonding, complete. Someone thought it would be a great idea to attend Applebee's on the way home. My sister slept in the car. I was too drunk to order. It was a typical family dinner now that I think about it.

It was a lovely, lovely wedding and I'm honored to have celebrated with a couple that we all love so dearly!

Linking up with Join the Gossip, Sami's Shenanigans, & five30three for Weekend Update!