coming out of the fort.

It is incredibly rare that I stumble across a pin on the pinterest that fills me with so much emotion. I think I clapped my hands together and nearly started crying. THE NEST.

Most of October, I lived in a nest. Except, I call it a blanket fort. My days were filled with anxiety, with reason and without, and the only thought that gave me comfort was knowing that I would soon be able to flee to my home, my comfy couch, and my blanket. And I knew that I could cover my entire body and free my mind of any burdening thoughts and just be in that blanket fort. Because I could not do much else without crying or finding a reason to yell about something or just completely shutting down.

And that Justin of mine? He let me be in that blanket fort. For a few weeks. And when I finally just became a complete ridiculous and unreasonable mess, he life-coached the shit out of me and gave me incredibly rousing come-to-jesus talks that left me without reason for needing my fort. And while I hated mostly every second of the life-coaching because, hello blanket fort is so much easier than facing any bit of reality, I loved every minute that he took to do so. Because he cared enough to pull me out of the fort and kick my ass into gear.

I don't think I would've made it out of there without him.

"something tells me you've already had lots of candy."

Ah, Halloween. As a grown-ass adult, I choose to celebrate Halloween on a non-school night. Can we just vote that Halloween officially move to the last Saturday in October? Thanksgiving doesn't have an official date attached to it. Am I right?!?

How unimportant was the above rant? Moving on. We celebrated this past Saturday as Tony Stark and his executive assistant, Pepper Potts. I know, the most non-costume costume ever. But I promise you that we put a whole hell of a lot of thought into it. Because it is surprisingly hard to find douchey enough sunglasses to be RDJ worthy. And Justin even shaved his beard into that miraculous Stark goatee which he really wanted to keep until I threatened his life. Balls or goatee, you can only choose one.

You may have noticed a guest star in our photo. Posing. Actually posing. We set up the camera on the bar with a self-timer and this was about our third try. I knew that she had ran back there and collapsed. I did NOT realize that she was going to smize the shit out of the camera. This is however, the closest we got to a costume this year. I know, I know. I am greatly disappointed too. But the swollen scratches on my ankles were the final caution that I needed.

Have fun tonight, kids. Keep all of your b's covered (to refresh: boobs, butt, bagina) and don't take candy from strangers.

a short story.

As I was sitting at the computer desk in the bedroom, Justin and Jmeoww were running around as they normally do. Okay, maybe Justin wasn't running. Rather he was distracting her away from my enticing skin meat that she likes to attack while I do computer things.

As they rounded the corner into the living room, I heard an all too familiar fart sound. But I brushed it off because, MEN. 

But then I hear, "JMEOWW! Was that you?!?"

And I think to myself, cats can't fart like that. So then I say out loud, "No it wasn't her, cats can't fart like that. They literally do not audibly fart. DID SHE JUST AUDIBLY FART?"

"Yea, babe. She totally did!" followed by and appropriate yet suspicious amount of laughter. I repeated my question at least nine more times and because the answer was the same, I was convinced that my cat audibly farted.

At this point I peeked my head into the living room to investigate said audible fart because I found it all too hilarious and unbelievable. And what do I find but that Justin giggling like a child who just audibly farted and blamed it on the cat and successfully convinced me that said cat was capable of audibly farting.

We are adults and this is our life. I kind of love it.

Embracing the obvious.

When I originally told friends and family that Justin was a video game designer and yes, he does game himself, they looked at me like I had gone fully mental. Did I forget what happened LAST time I dated a gamer? Um, no. One doesn't easily forget waking up at 4 in the fucking morning to scream at someone to stop screaming at the television.

Not only have I accepted the gaming, but I have also accepted a lot of geek culture that was always knocking at my door. I would just never let it in because I was far too cool for that kind of shit. SPOILER ALERT: I'm not. 

It started with Game of Thrones and those baby dragons. Then a Lord of the Rings viewing that turned me into the world's biggest fan of Gollum. A deep love for Archer soon developed. Arrested Development. Spaced. SHERLOCK. CUMBERBATCH. And currently, Battlestar Galactica. You guys, its a hardcore sci-fi show and I CRIED during an episode the other night. Cried real tears during a sci-fi show.

Last week we attended w00tstock 5.0 — a "geek variety show" put together by Wil Wheaton (geek Jesus) and Adam Savage (of Mythbusters fame). Within the first two minutes George RR Martin had walked on stage and smashed a guitar (and also Neil Gaiman and while I am not familiar with his work I know that he is basically a god) and tears welled up in my eyes and I threw my hands up to my face and completely FANGIRLED.

This spectacular evening of geekdom also introduced me to Garfunkel & Oates — the hilarious duo behind this not entirely safe for work song. Girls can be funny, you guys! And while you're at it, check out "The Loophole," which makes me blush so I'm not posting it here.

At one point in the evening Paul & Storm introduced The Best 36 Seconds on the Internet. (Also, I'm sure you've seen this but just in case you have not — The Best 36 Seconds on the Internet.)

And this is when I had my epiphany. The heavens parted, the nerdy giggling silenced, and I thought to myself, This too is my favorite video on the internet.

At that exact moment, Justin turned and looked at me with only a mildly smug smile on his face and said, "These are your people, honey. This is your home."

 And it was. It is. I can't deny it anymore. Geek culture is a part of my soul.

Now if you'll excuse me I need to go watch the above video at least 6 more times.

it happens.

Saturday afternoon as I was driving 100 miles north to my homeland of Chino for a couple of family parties, jamming out to Yeezus and giggling at my hipster angel Justin Vernon singing obscenties, I felt my car slip a little. I assumed it was the difference between the old road and the freshly paved road I was now traveling over. But my car just. wouldn't. go. In the fast last on the highway. I nearly shit my pants.

Luckily I was near an exit that had both a Jiffy Lube and another mechanic. The guys at the mechanic scanned the magical computer wand situation thing to discover what was wrong with it but that they couldn't fix. AND THEN THEY CLEARED THE ERROR. So that I wouldn't be able to report to the next mechanic that I was now heading to. And did not direct me anywhere or offer any other advice, but assured me that I would be fine driving on the freeway to my destination, which had now become my hometown mechanic about 30 miles down the highway.

So I hopped back on the freeway and NOPE. This bitch wasn't going to go over 35 miles per hour. So I shit my pants again, pulled off the freeway and hopped on Yelp to find the nearest mechanic that was open. Oh, yea sure come in! We can take a look at it. 

And upon my arrival at the least-safe mechanic I could've chosen, Oh no we can't look at that today. I JUST SPOKE TO YOU ON THE PHONE ARE YOU HIGH RIGHT NOW?

Tow truck it was.

Guys, when it comes to anything that is remotely related to finances I cry. Because I am not a millionaire. DON'T BE SO SURPRISED. So when I got the news that my transmission was in fact dead and that I had no vehicle 100 miles from home, I cried my ass off. In between all of the shitting of the pants. 

So for the next few weeks Justin and I are sharing a car like savages. The only problem is that I typically leave for work as he is waking up. To pull a card from my boo Chris' book, Saint Justin is waking up early so I can drop him off at work and drive down to work. SAINT JUSTIN is also researching cars for me because that is what he did in his past life. He was a car. 

THE SILVER LINING? Because there is one. Right? I get a new car. I'll take any new car advice you have in the comments. FOR FREE because you know, FINANCES.

how not to plan a wedding v.1

Here we are, one week engaged and I am already in trouble. Because I am already searching venues, naturally, and even though we don't even have a date WHAT IF ALL OF THE VENUES ARE BOOKED FOREVER? These are the things I worry about. Irrational anxiety girl, at your service.

Rather than get explicit with details, please review this conversation/episode Justin & I had.

T: And not to keep talking about the wedding, but I found another venue I'm realllllly excited about.

J: Yea? Where?

T: It's this really swanky hotel on El Cajon Blvd...

J: NO. We are NOT getting married on El Cajon Blvd.

T: BUT THE HOTEL IS BEAUTIFUL AND THEY JUST REMODELED. Here, let me find some pictures....

He won. This time.

soon to be mrs. tiff dee

Did you hear the news?

KIM & KANYE ARE HAVING A GIRL. I know, I know. That is exactly what you all came here to read about today. You are so welcome.

Oh, right. JUSTIN PROPOSED TO ME.

And I said, "Yes." OF COURSE I DID.

Even as I try to type this out right now I really could never do this all justice. The amount of love and happiness we feel is incomparable. Also, maybe I'm a little hungover. SO MUCH CELEBRATING.

I knew he had something planned yesterday, I just didn't know what. And never in my wildest dreams did I think I would end up on a marathon-traffic-filled scavenger hunt throughout San Diego to some of the most important monuments to our love. Only to end up where it all started on that fateful December night in which I crashed his company's Christmas party. Obviously by the time I found him waiting for me at the Rancho Bernardo Inn, I knew what was coming. We had a little walk filled with awkward small talk to the exact spot where we met, only to be interrupted by me having to pee. Classy, I know. Once that was taken care of he got down on one knee and even said please. SO POLITE. It was perfectly sweet and romantic. He put so much thought into the entire day and my heart is so incredibly full.

Yes, I had some influence on that ring. MY PRECIOUS. That is a story for another day. And besides a secret pin board I may have started and some venue browsing, we don't have a damn thing planned. Maybe a year-and-a-halfish timeline? Maybe I'll convince him to marry me in Vegas this summer? As long as we don't invite Lord Walder Frey to our wedding, all will be well.

the phone call.

On this day last year my life went full-blown Nicholas Sparks. Let's break it down, shall we?

I received a phone call from a familiar area code, but the number no longer deserved storage in my phone. It was a number I tried my hardest to forget, time and time again. This number had been in and out of my life for the previous 23-or so months and according to the voicemail I received from this number, it wanted back in.

This phone call from that phone number was the final sign that Justin and I were supposed to be together.

Rather than call that number back, I sat around and cried. I called one of my friends and cried. And she asked me a very simple question: Who would you choose? And I answered without skipping a beat. So call him, she said. OKAY FINE.

I made a drink, took a deep breath and dialed a number that was stored in my phone. And he didn't answer. So I left a message.

I finished that drink and made another one. And then my phone rang.

Are you okay? No.

Are you, you're not pregnant are you? ARE YOU SERIOUS IT IS SO MUCH WORSE THAN THAT.

So I told him, this was it. This was the last time I would say any of this. The last time I would dial his number, the number that I liked to dial. The last time I would cry, and beg and plead for him to make the easiest and most rational decision of his life: to love me. To give us a chance.

You know how I know that I love you so much? I hate your shoes. Your shoes are awful, and I still love you.

He asked for more time and I said, no. Six months is plenty, right? I gave him two days, and only that long because my parents were coming in to town the next day.

I hung up the phone, called my friend back and asked her to bring me Taco Bell. Because during that phone call I had gotten myself drunk and hadn't eaten dinner. So she brought me Taco Bell at eleven p.m. and we watched stupid TV. And then I watched Grey's Anatomy because why wouldn't a completely emotionally disturbed person make their life that much worse? I didn't need sleep.

Two days later as I was laying on the couch recovering from a night of partying with my parents and also brunch drinking with said parents, my phone rang. And I panicked, so I let it go to voicemail. I wasn't ready to hear what I had been hearing for the past six months.

He asked me to come over, that he just needed a friend. Not knowing what that meant but secretly hoping I knew what it meant, I got myself up and ready and went to his apartment. Shaking and sweating, but at least my hair looked good.

I chose you. It's over. What? I don't believe you. 

And I didn't believe him. It took about two weeks before I believed him. It only took one week to go shoe-shopping though.

If you ask Justin the story of how we started dating, he tells this story with pride. He says it was the most endearing phone call of his life. I always get slightly embarrassed due to my utter act of desperation. But I also always feel quite a bit of satisfaction that my lack of shame actually got me what I wanted the most. And I will always be completely overwhelmed with the amount of love that I feel for one person.

one of many.

Day 10: Your most embarrassing moment(s). Spill.

Spill? SPILL? I wrote about leaky tampon issues and my boyfriend almost catching me changing said tampon. SPILL IS MY MIDDLE NAME.
This is like Christmas morning for me. Okay, here we go.
Once upon a time, when Justin and I were in relationship purgatory, he suggested we go get drinks, as friends! Yay! Let's be friends! Fine. Let's.
I spent the entire day with my younger sister in a tattoo parlor — that we only ended up in because we were bored. We had a really light lunch and of course I had a couple of tall cans while she was getting worked on. This is all just to say I didn't set myself up very well for the evening.
Justin met up with me later and we walked from my apartment to my favorite dive. A friendly walk. Justin ordered a beer. And then this happened.
Me: I'll have a PBR and a shot of Jameson. Justin: Oh, it's that kind of night? Me, in my head: FRIENDS NIGHT!
So we talked, as friends, and talked and drank and did more shots of Jameson than I can remember. And then I stood up to go to the bathroom and it all snapped.
Me: I need to go home. IMMEDIATELY.
And then I bolted out the door and started walking home before he could even say anything.
What happened next was not a far cry from that time I ruined vacation. The difference? We were only friends. We had only known each other for about 2 months. And here I am puking a liter of whiskey right in front of him.
So I did that thing in which I lock myself in the bathroom and yell that I AM FINE repeatedly. I begged him to go home. I was fine! 
I was not fine. I was wrapped up in a damp bathroom towel and crying mascara out of my nose. I was nowhere near fine.
Justin. That Justin. He didn't leave me. He refused to leave me. He let me sleep in the bathroom for a while because once I am in there, I am in there. And then he dragged me to bed and made sure I didn't die for a few hours. And then he went home. My friend.
To say I was embarrassed is an understatement. When I woke up the next day — in the middle of the afternoon — I thought for sure I would never hear from him again.   
SPOILER ALERT: I did.

that voodoo magic.

On this day one year ago I was in New Orleans with my LP Leeann, which you can read about right here. Long story short, this happened.

Don Draper, I am not.

One thing I didn't really talk much about at the time, because if you tell secrets they don't come true, was about our trip to the Bottom of the Cup Tea Room. Where we got a psychic reading. From tea leaves.

Okay, first of all this cost three times as much as I expected AND I didn't even get to drink any tea. However, my psychic...she was psychic. She was about 117 years old and a completely crazy, Southern jewel. My 10-minute reading turned into a 30-minute conversation in which she predicted a future for me that in a few short weeks CAME TRUE. And I never, ever would've imagined so.

I walked out a little shell-shocked (but secretly hopeful) to a completely stone-faced Leeann, who had a terrible reading. Terrible as in her lady missed every single mark she tried.

At the time of this reading, Justin and I were in relationship purgatory. But this woman, this treasure knew that our love would blossom and that he would be in my life. She said, "Next year when you visit for Jazzfest, you bring him by to say 'hello!'" And while I didn't go to Jazzfest this year (because it is a special type of hell), I should at least write her a letter telling her that she is in fact psychic, in case she ever doubts herself. Do I have to, or does she already know that she was right? Unclear how far her psychic abilities travel.

I also decided to get into voodoo whilst in NOLA because that is what one does. The voodoo shops are not tourist friendly, at all. They are actually downright terrifying and the shopkeepers enjoy being rude to you. But damn it if I didn't want to get a voodoo love candle (specifically the hummingbird one...one must be specific in casting magic love spells, okay?). So I did, and although I never lit it (because Leeann had convinced me it would explode) I prominently displayed it on my bookcase and longingly stared at it. Which also worked.

Those that know me well know that I don't believe in many things, but psychic readings and love spells are now on the list of things I sure as hell do believe in. And I have a wonderful trip to New Orleans to thank for that.

And now my boyfriend knows that he was magically tricked into this relationship using voodoo magic and everything else short of an animal sacrifice. Thank god he gave in before that occurred...

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The Meowpocalypse is coming. Don't you forget it.

Whoopsies.

Hi there. Consider this a fail post. I was too busy drinking all of the wine at a wine tasting party and eating all of the cheese at said party to do a proper Friday summary for you. So instead, I present you this:

That spectacular photoshop job was done by none other than Justin, available for hire! Come to think of it, he should've photoshopped his head over Christoph Waltz, because I mean that is how those two roll. 

Be kind to each other, yea? Cheers to the weekend!

eyes wide...shut?

In addition to the other 90 shows that we regularly watch, we are now completely obsessed with My Cat From Hell on Animal Planet. I know exactly what you are thinking and I don't know why we didn't watch it before either. It is gold. Pure, sweet gold. And the cat whisperer man is an absolute genius. If you aren't familiar with the show or said whisperer, he is pictured below.

Right? We have learned so much from this so, most importantly that our wee devil is not that bad. She has come so far, you guys. Fine, she pees herself at the vet (yes, only pee this time...thankfully) and she still hunts me (and only me). But I have learned that it could be SO MUCH WORSE.

One of the cats that Sir Galaxy was dealing with was feral, and to make the cat feel more comfortable around him, he slow-blinked at it several times. You know, slow-blinked. It is how cats know that you are not a threat and you like them. 

So at this point I'm all up in giggles. HE IS BLINKING AT THE CAT. THEY ARE SPEAKING WITH EYES. Dying. And then that Justin. He says, "What? I do that to jmeoww all the time."

You guys. I lost my shit. Completely. My boyfriend had been secretly eye-communicating with my animal and not telling me. Okay first of all, he eye-communicated. Secondly I had no idea and that was the kicker. They have secrets, those two. I KNEW IT. Next time I enter a room and they are both silent and glancing at each other I will know, just know that they are talking shit about me behind my back. WITH THEIR EYES.

Of course, because I'm a complete asshole, I shared this story with my friends and had to take it a step further. This is now how we communicate at lunch. Because sometimes you can't always say things out loud and nothing expresses your mood like a good slow-blink.

or the non-blink...

Ladies Can Do Stuff Now

Greetings Polka Dotted Cats! Tiff's been on me (seriously, like on me) for a few months to give her another guest post, because let's face it - my posts have bigger brains. It's science. So after turning her down just enough times that she appreciates me even more I've decided to pause my jazz flute sessions long enough to compose something for all you loyal PDC'ers. Read on and let your brain weep in ecstasy at the divine order I've chosen for these words.

Ultimately the first question I asked myself about writing more for her was: what do I have to say to a bunch of women that would be interesting to them? Then I remembered that the times are changing and ladies can do stuff now. So I now sit here in my bright orange robe drinking scotch to write out some random thoughts that will be of interest to you. Because YOU MISS MY MUSK. Scotchy scotch scotch.

Me being sexy.

Anyways, here is my master plan. I've been trying unsuccessfully to convince Tiffany to do one of two things (get your mind out of the gutter, ladies). One - stand-up comedy. Do any of you know this woman in person? Her story delivery, expressions and mannerisms are just plain hilarious. She probably has a fear of speaking in front of large crowds, mostly I would guess because Jmeoww probably has that fear and they share a brain when it comes to most neuroticisms, but we could work past that. Maybe some cheese would help.

Number two - write a book. This one is self explanatory. Her stuff is funny. By and large she uses correct grammar and punctuation. So why not begin to corral it all into a legible manuscript? I've tried bribing her with promises of trips to Pleasure Town and doing her on a rainbow, but she's still just focused on blogging.

All this could have been hers.

Come to think of it, it's probably all your faults... Yeah, yeah, what the hell people? Stop being such an encouraging community and tell her to go write a book! I'm seventy-two percent sure she'd succeed. And seventy-two percent of the time she'd succeed one-hundred percent of the time. You couldn't ask for better odds.

So let's all stop thinking of our own personal daily reading needs. In fact, for one night, let's not be bloggers. Let's be people. Now drink in my formidable scent and get lost in some jazz flute.

(If you like the order of these words, I have many other words in different sequences available to be viewed at Pixelated Trip. So stop by! I'll give you little cookies an hour before we're doing the no-pants dance.)

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.

the vacation, part one: monterey, highway 1 & cambria.

The morning after that fabulous party that was held in my honor, we left for a fabulous vacation. Not as smoothly as that sounds, of course. Someone forgot to set the time back for daylight savings on the alarm clock and someone else was incredibly hungover and could barely put on sweatpants. And someone else was in full panic mode because we brought home REALLY SCARY BALLOONS from the party and she wouldn't leave the bedroom even after Justin popped them. It was quite the morning.

The 7.5 hour drive up to Monterey was largely uneventful. How did you not kill each other?!? Well, we enjoy each other's company, SURPRISING I KNOW. Even when I am pointing out everything on the side of the road like a goddamned tour guide and jabbering on about the gorgeous blooming cherry trees.

We did realize as we were deep in farmland CA that I either a.) can't read or b.) can't see. Or both. As we passed a sign that said FRESH FRUIT: PIES & FUDGE (which are not even fruit by the way so what the fuck), I proclaimed, "FIGS? Who the fuck would stop for figs?" And then later when we passed a sign for Lightfighter Road my blindass yelled, "Who the hell would fight a lamp?" Which led Justin to believe that I caused considerable brain damage at my party the night before.

And this is where I give you the Monterey summary, as to avoid this becoming a novel about my vacation.

Hotel — Best Western Plus Beach Resort. Right on the sand and totally relaxing. The dinner we had there was one of my favorites of the trip (which included the World's best artichokes from Castroville, CA!).

Attractions — Lover's Point Park & Monterey Bay Aquarium.

Foods — Old Monterey Cafe (fantastic!) and Cannery Row Brewing Co. (not bad, but a total twatty bartender).

And then we were on our merry way to Cambria, which required a drive down Route 1 (aka the coast highway). I knew it would be beautiful, and oh it so was. What I wasn't prepared for was how damn treacherous it was. Justin was in heaven. I was sweating, swearing, and clutching the door handle for dear life, like it would actually save my life should we go over the edge.

The thing is, if I don't understand how it was built, I do not like it. Who built these roads, and how? The bridges? DOES NOT COMPUTE. But it was truly amazing and I even spotted some whales (well at least their blow — shut up that is the proper term for it, not spout).

After two hours of sheer terror we reached Cambria — the sleepiest town on the west coast (seriously, everything closes at 8 p.m.).

Hotel — Mariner's Inn. Newly renovated and a perfect beachy, rustic room. They also gave us a bottle of wine when we checked in, which is totally the way to my heart.

Attractions — Moonstone Beach, Fermentations (for wine-tasting), one million antique stores (which I developed an irrational fear of) and Cambria Beer Co. The beer tasting was by far one of the highlights of the town. We met a "regular" and exchanged life stories, and we met the "mayor" who is not a real mayor because they are not incorporated so she became mayor by winning fundraisers. My new goal is to move there and claim mayorhood.

Foods — JBJ's Round-up Pizza & Grub (the only thing that was open when we arrived...but a great birthday meal!), Linn's Restaurant (a Cambria staple) and Cambria Pub & Steakhouse.

Although a quiet town with not much to do other than walk along the beach and browse the local shops, we loved it. I loved it as a child and I love it even more now. It has always been a special place to me and I can definitely see us returning many, many times and then properly fitting in with all of the adorable gray-hairs that were vacationing along with us.

Stay tuned for the vacation, part 2: the time I ruined vacation. Shit gets real.

the party.

Oh, hi there! Remember me? I went on vacation and never wanted to come back. But, I did. And I have many stories to tell. The first of which you may have already heard from Leeann or Kathrin. I had a little birthday and my family threw me a little party. 

But really...I turned 30 and my family and friends threw me an amazing fucking party and filled my heart so much.

The party was held at 98 Bottles in Little Italy, San Diego (California, United States of America). What a great venue full of great beer. So much great beer that I don't remember a lot of details from the party. 

A few things I do remember...

• My sister created a kick-ass little photobooth situation that we all died over.
• My dearest friend Emily & her fiance DROVE from SEATTLE to come to the party. They DROVE 18 hours. The thought still makes me cry.
• Justin's mom met my family and no one died or started a fire. Success.
• Justin made a speech that everyone thought was going to be a proposal (AGAIN), including my dad. And it was sweet and wonderful and hilarious and people caught incredible pictures of this moment that I will laugh over forever.

I am forever grateful to have had such an amazing party with such wonderful people. And thank YOU all for the birthday wishes and love you have sent my way. It's long past, but I still feel the love. SO MUCH FEELINGS.

That's all I can muster up for today. Stay tuned for vacation recaps and the time I thought I ruined our vacation. Such a treat.

Is it vacation yet?

Birthdays! Vacations! Is there anything else spectacular for me to talk about this week? Should we share opinions on the papal conclave?

Nahhh. Let's plan my vacation, yea? 

So the day after my birthday party, which was probably poor planning, we are embarking on a road trip up the California coast. Which is also poor planning because I yell at Justin when he drives, even though he does absolutely nothing wrong.

We are driving straight up to Monterey (so I can go to the aquarium, which I have never been which is blasphemy according to my marine biology degree), and then working our way back down throughout the week. As a psychotic planner, I have naturally googled every possible thing to do along the way which includes wine, wine, and more wine. I do not object.

What I'm most excited about so far is Ostrichland USA. Why? OBVIOUSLY they are my other soul animal. Even though you hate birds, Tiffany? Yes, because they are not birds they are dinosaurs. Obviously.

You know what other kind of amazing animal farm exists in this region? MINIATURE HORSES. And I might just buy one and get it a tiny saddle so that jmeoww can ride it around our apartment. Obviously.

And then my search stopped there because I spiraled into searching for tiny cowboy hats. So, I ask for advice. Besides these three amazing and animal-centered activities, and also wine, what else should we see along our Central California Coast journey? Some of you have already given me fantastic recommendations, and for that I praise you. Is there anything else that we absolutely cannot miss on this journey?

These things I've learned.

With my 30th birthday on the horizon (are you sick of hearing about it yet?), I've been thinking about posting something profound and hopefully quite wisdomous. Wisdomous is a word, trust. But I would feel like such an asshole spouting off wisdom that I don't even follow. And, I realized I don't like talking about myself THAT much. I like telling stories, but like a laundry list of Tiffany wisdoms? As amazing as that sounds, I'm already sick of hearing myself.

So I will leave it at this - I am going give you some cliff notes on things I have done/learned in my life that have shaped the 30 year old woman that I am. And a few things I need to work on, just to keep it fair-and-balanced, you know? Let's do this shit.

THINGS I HAVE DONE/LEARNED

• Daily drama & crisises, while entertaining, help no one. I have made a conscious effort to be more positive and stop bitching about every single little thing in my life. Am I 100% positive? Nope. But in the past 5 years I have gotten SO much better at looking at the bigger picture and not letting little details get to me.

• I will always be judgmental. I can't help it. And if you are going to wear 6-inch stilettos to work and then you can't walk in them you deserve my judgement. 

• If you are unhappy and unfulfilled in a relationship, end it. It will be awkward and awful and you will feel like the worst person in the entire world. That will all pass. But you can't force happiness and fulfillment. You just can't. I ended a 5+ year relationship much to the shock of my family and friends and I have never regretted it and never looked back. Making yourself happy and complete will always be #1 in my book.
• Footnote: And if you should perhaps leave an unfulfilling and awful relationship, please read Eat, Pray, Love. GUYS IT REALLY HELPED ME. Learning to let go was the most important lesson of my life.

• Single ladies...LIVE ALONE. At some point in your life, ditch the roommates. Suffer financially. Decorate the shit out of your apartment. Eat dinner in you underwear. Sleep naked. Pass out drunk in your bathroom and cover up with the rug. No one will ever know. You will really discover who you are, who your friends are, and what is important to you.

• You will know when you find your other half. You will. If you can honestly not find one single thing wrong with a person, besides their shoes, then they are truly your perfect fit. And when you find that person, don't let them go. Fight your hardest fight. Have no shame. Because when it works, you will never regret the sobbing and mildly drunk phone call which sealed the deal and also solved the problem of the ugly shoes. It is so worth it, you guys.

• And speaking of having no shame, lighten the fuck up, you know? One of my favorite (probably made-up) words from a book is erleichda - and it literally means "lighten up." Laugh at yourself. Relax. But don't relax to the point of farting in front of your significant other. That shit is UNACCEPTABLE. 

• Not all cats are self-reliant. Some are special-needs. Really special-needs.

THINGS I STILL NEED TO WORK ON.

• Learning the difference between left and right.

• Saving money and sticking to a budget.

• Setting boundaries. BIG TIME. And then sticking to them. BIG TIME.

• Not getting caught up in other people's drama. Not my bid'ness.

• My fitness. I'm getting better at it, and I like it! I just really need to stick with it. Like, forever.

• Not loving beer so much. Or whiskey. 

• My television viewing choices. Or do I.

And now that I'm through this I still feel like a total asshole. Because who I am to tell you how to live your life? I didn't even have hair until I was four, so why should you listen to me? Because I am happy. I am turning 30 and I can honestly say that I am happy. And once I finally distinguish between left and right, I feel like I might really have a chance in this world.

milestones.

Late night conversations are my favorite. Exhaustion, muscle fatigue...I know where your head is going and omg get a room. I've been kicking my ass trying to get ready for a teeny dress, okay? So by 10 pm I can't feel my legs and I can barely make sentences. The thing is, I'm really bad at anniversaries. Lucky for Justin, most of the time...

me: Tomorrow is our anniversary! Our month anniversary!

Justin: Month?

me: Monthly. Months. You know, Monthly.

Justin:...(still not getting it...probably contemplating my use of the word monthly and bracing himself for some sort of period talk).

me: 9 MONTHS! OUR NINE MONTH ANNIVERSARY!

Justin:....ohhhhh–

me: It's like a BABY! Our relationship baby has been birthed!

Justin:......

me: Can we name is jmeoww?

Justin: Or would it be born when we started dating making it turn 1 in May? Now I'm confused.

me: OBVIOUSLY NOT. You impregnated me with your love!

And then it just stopped because sometimes he knows there is no winning with me and these intelligent thoughts of mine. Which is why I keep him around.

You're doing it wrong.

Relationships. We've all had them. Good, bad, really bad. As I told my dearest hetero life partner Leeann, practice makes perfect.

Saturday night I was in a REALLY BAD MOOD. Like really bad. Like holy shit don't even look at me bad mood. All because it took me 4 tries to get my outfit right and then I was all sweaty but damn if I didn't rock those boyfriend jeans (thanks for the recommendation, Kathrin!). And also because I didn't know where I was supposed to be driving us to, and also it really wasn't that big of a deal. I just couldn't handle my shit, and you all know what I mean. And Justin just let it happen and rolled with it, like it was no big deal that I was stomping through the streets of Solana Beach like a major beast. At least I looked good doing it...

Fast forward to Sunday night. Justin caught the REALLY BAD MOOD/also probably a hangover from the 190 whiskey shots he took with the boys Saturday night. I don't catch onto his bad moods very well because, well, quite honestly they are rare. I know, I found an angel from the heavens that farts confetti. I wish. But, this is when he loses his patience and I turn into a toddler.

I have a habit of asking mindless questions that don't really require attention. So at one point, he got up to go to the bathroom and I said, "where are you going?" GOOD QUESTION, Tiffany. Narnia? There are three places he can go in this apartment and not one of them require permission nor space physics to enter.

So, he lost his patience with me and like a proper 29-almost-30-year-old I cried. Well, kind of. I waited to cry until he shut the bathroom door, which before he did he had ALREADY apologized for being short with me.

At bedtime, the same thing happened. Except it was, "when are you coming to bed?" which I knew would happen soon enough when he finished using the internets. Just mindless questions, you see. And then he was all, wtf and I was like omg now I'm crying again.

And then there were more apologies and yesterday morning when I was giving him the JMEOWW feeding update (we are trying to cut down on her food intake...it's not going well...she thinks she is dying...) he apologized again. And then I apologized again and promised to be more mindful of the pointless questions I ask, and he said:

Once a relationship starts going down the road of "it's okay to do this in this situation but not in this one," and when you're talking about basic stuff like just asking questions, you start inhibiting who someone is. I REALLY don't ever want to inhibit who you are, because I love you with all my heart - even things that you think are annoying (leaving cloTHES* around?) I still love because it's YOU.

And then maybe I teared up a little at my desk, but didn't like cry-cry because I'm growing up, guys.

The point, the real point of all of this? Is that practice does make perfect. And there will be awfully bad moods and annoying questions, and super sexy looking boyfriend jeans. But beyond that, all that matters is that you remain YOU in a relationship, and never inhibit or silence a part of yourself that you think you should be insecure about. Except farts. Those should always be silenced, ladies.

*For the life of me, I cannot pronounce clothes properly...I say "close." You?