the jmeoww diaries: V.15

We recently returned from a long overdue vacation, AKA Tiffany's tour of the East Coast locales in which Justin once lived. From Boston to Maine to New Hampshire (and then to Mechanicville, NY for me because of course), we saw friends and family and some of the most beautiful lands in our country. But not one damn moose, which I am still peeved about. We did, however, hear elk breeding which is a story I will tell you one day over some beers.

Boston

The one and only FALL tree in New Hampshire.

Lake Winnipesaukee, NH

Glorious, yes? This past weekend we visited my family for the first time since the trip and they could not wait to hear....

...about how jmeoww handled herself during this vacation and our return.

Yes, her life is far more interesting than ours and we get it.

Leaving our precious feline child for longer than 6-hours is a daunting and emotional production like no other. My little sister was conveniently unable to take on meow-sitting duties, so we turned to jmeoww's other entrusted human — Paul. Paul is the hero who took on this task over our honeymoon last year. And because sometimes I need a good cackle, I saved the email he sent from that time and would like to gift you an excerpt:

"I went into the kitchen to get her food and while I was cleaning her dishes I could hear her hissing.  I'd look over and she'd perk up and meow when I saw her, then hiss again when we couldn't see each other. It was hilarious.

So I got the treats and the toys and walked over to her. Gave her a couple of treats and petted her, and she would purr, then meow, then purr, then hiss, then purr...she was SO FUNNY."

FUNNY INDEED. And because Paul is a saint and fully aware of the commitment involved, he agreed to watch her again this trip. We only heard from him once (although I did make Justin check-in several times for my benefit), and his text said:

How kind of Justin to LOL prior to asking Paul is he was okay. I just kept saying, SHE IS SO EMBARRASSING. At this point I assumed that she had accepted her new life as a parentless cat living in a one-bedroom apartment with appliances she could never operate and clothing that would never fit her. But at least we left a light on. Oh, and the A/C because thank you San Diego for reaching temperatures that would surely cause an indoor cat to implode. And because she doesn't have thumbs, she HAD to depend on Paul for food but also she had to make sure that he didn't steal it. Which is WHY she overreacted, obviously. Who knows when her next meal would have been! 

Justin returned home three days earlier than I did (because, Mechanicville!) so he dealt with most of the overly-clingy animal recovering from her brief stint as an orphan. He reported that there was a lot of very loud meowing and a lot of staring at the door waiting for me to walk through.

LIKE SO.

I returned on Monday afternoon while Justin was still at work. Basically it was like she didn't believe I was home. I had to wake her up from her daytime resting place underneath the bed, and then she just stared at me. Clearly I must be dreaming! But then. Then she smelled the OTHER CATS on my suitcase and continued to smell every part of all the things until she was certain they weren't with me. It was only then that I was granted a very brief yet very drool-filled cuddle session. 

While she most certainly has her asshole moments, we can see a big difference in the recovery time after these earth-shattering events. But let's not discuss what happens when it rains. Because if you wanted to hear about it at 7:15 a.m. on a Sunday morning, she would be happy to tell you ALL about it. 

Now, if you have questions about the HUMANS' vacation, please let me know!

My soul-inmate

I wasn't going to do one of those I'M ON VACATION, BITCHES posts.

But...

Bitches, I'm on vacation.

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.

the jmeoww diaries v.8

Fans of the beloved queen beast, welcome to our story of the month — stories, if you will. March was a challenging month for our dear JMEOWW. And although not as traumatic as going to the vet she did have some hurdles, the first being abandonment.

Jmeoww is not the type of cat that you can leave for a day or two and not worry about it. She is the opposite of everything you've ever heard about cats due to her severe abandonment issues stemming from her rough kittenhood. So when Justin and I took our 6-day vacation a few weeks ago, we enlisted my little sister to be our meowwsitter. She reluctantly agreed. She was jmeoww's original auntie, and then she went and got a meoww of her own. And now they do things like this together...

The only Harlem Shake I would ever MAKE you watch.

We thought that having Brittany check in on jmeoww would make it a lot easier for us when we returned. She wouldn't be so needy, we thought. She will adjust just fine, we proclaimed. When we walked through the door late Friday night we heard the loudest meows you would ever hear in your life. She ran laps. She meow-screamed. She ran in and out on the patio. And OMG HAVE YOU SEEN THE BIRD POOP OUTSIDE COME LOOK AT IT!

Jmeoww didn't sleep for almost two days, you guys. She meowed. She ran in circles. She lurked. She did everything but sleep. If she went to sleep, we would leave again. She just knew it. So she stayed awake. She yawned and head-nodded her little heart away but she kept her vigil. For nearly two days.

"You still have things in your travel box. I SHALL HELP."

When she did decide to sleep, she decided it was time to share the bed with us again. Two tall-ass adults that had spent a week in luxurious king beds were now sharing a queen bed with a fatass cat. Cute, yes. Comfortable, never. But do not under any circumstances try to move her or adjust your own self. THIS IS HOW IT MUST BE FROM NOW ON, HUMANS.

And if the pure shock and excitement of us coming home wasn't enough, fucking Iams changed the shape of her food again. Which she alerted us to several times. Yes, we see it. Yes, we are so sorry. Yes, I will write them a strongly worded email tomorrow. Yes, you can proofread it. Yes, you should definitely bring the kibbles over to the carpet and eat them so we can all see that you've accepted the shape change.

The final challenge that March served Jmeoww was daylight savings. Among her many skills, she has the unique ability of being an alarm clock. When she hears my alarm go off, if I am not out of bed by the next snooze she comes and meows in my face. It is charming, it really is. Well, her internal meow clock did not set itself ahead an hour so she was coming in at 6 a.m. meowing like there was some sort of emergency and she was probably saving the day. Not quite my darling animal. Go the fuck to sleep.

One of those morning when she came in too early to get me out of bed, a series of ill-timed events led to vaginal trauma that I have not emotionally recovered from. She was walking, ever so daintily on me and then over to Justin. She brushed his arm with her fur, which startled him in his sleep and he whacked her, scaring her and flinging her into the air. Where did she land? In my crotch, claws out leaving a nice puncture wound behind. She has scratched me in many places, but this was a first for sure.

We have all mostly recovered, just in time for another trip to the vet in two weeks (with sedatives this time...for all of us!). Jmeoww's life, you guys? Hard knock, indeed.

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.

30.

Well. Today is the day. And to commemorate this day, I would like to share with you a special poem that my dearest friend Michelle wrote for me last year. That's right, Grams. I saved it.

You're turning thirty, but not till next year,

But please don't worry, there's nothing to fear.

You'll still look hot, especially your ass

Every boy you see will still make a pass.

Your boobs won't be saggy, you're not forty two,

Is that when they sag? I haven't a clue.

Have fun in Vegas, it's a hot mess

And please don't forget a white wedding dress.

Isn't she the best?

Next week I will have epic party and vacation stories for you. This week two of my oldest and bestest friends are filling in for me.

Leeann of Join the Gossip

and

Kathrin of Shop.School.Sleep

I've known these broads since 7th grade, so prepare yourself for awkward Tiffany photos featuring that time I had "The Rachel." That was real life. Thanks for letting me make my own fashion & beauty choices in 7th grade, mom.

I will return to blogville next week. Stay classy!

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?

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!

Gal Pal Weekend in Palm Desert

This spring was a little rough for me as I tend to borderline lose my mind sometimes. As a result of this, my dear friend Jenna brilliantly suggested that we runaway for a weekend to her Mom’s condo in Palm Desert. Because we are both extremely busy humans, this past weekend was the first opportunity we had to do this.

For once I wasn't the oldest person in the group!

Upon arrival Friday night, we decided to stop in a highly rated local establishment called, “The Nest.” Their website states, “Life begins after 5.” I think what it meant to say was, “Life begins after 50,” the median age of the bar patrons. We walked into the piano bar area, which was packed full of snazzy dressed senior citizens getting their boogie on. A group of sweaty older gentlemen were kind enough to purchase drinks for us. One of them even offered to make-out with Jenna. One of them even asked us, "No offense ladies, but what are you doing here?" I responded like anyone should: "It was highly rated on Yelp." Naturally. They stopped purchasing us drinks when another group of silver-haired gentlemen pulled our attention away.  Fortunately, a  majorly inappropriate bartender had no problem pouring us drinks for free. I ordered a whiskey and gingerale and received WHISKEY. Jenna’s vodka and soda was VODKA. But it was FREE so we weren’t about to complain. 

Potential serial killer on the left.

We noticed that the older women in the bar didn’t take to kindly to our presence there. They danced aggressively in our direction bumping into us on purpose. It was probably because they thought we were swimming in their pool. I suggested to Jenna that maybe they were jealous that we have something they no longer do…periods. There was one woman who literally did not stop dancing the entire night. I would guess that she would nearing 70 and not one single part on her body moved. She was an absolute jewel and I hope when I'm her age I have that much fun.

There was also what appeared to be a serial killer in the bar. At least his hovering and staring at us led us to believe so. I tried to be sneaky and take a picture of him should we ever need evidence of his presence at the bar, but he kindly back away from my lens (I did get a cute picture of Jenna though!).

We danced, laughed, and drank too much as our hangovers the following day would remind us. After a long morning of recovery we lounged by the pool all afternoon, which was a perfect relief from the 100 degree desert heat. We ventured into Palm Springs in the evening to take advantage of Palm Spring Restaurant Week and have an early birthday celebration for Jenna with her Mom and neighbors. They took us to Sammy G’s Tuscan Grill for a delicious dinner. Here we were surrounded by what appeared to be Rock of Love auditions: rhinestones, infinite hair extensions and spray tans, and way too high heels paired with WAY too short skirts. Again, seems we were underdressed. After we went to Lulu for cocktails. Lulu was by far the coolest looking establishment in the city, with its South Beach meets Mid-Century décor and atmosphere.

Incredible chandeliers at Lulu.

Sunday was dedicated to shopping, which was largely unsuccessful except for some unnecessary accessories. We got lost in an amazing accessory store called Charming Charlie where everything is organized by color. Genius. Also, dangerous. After an interesting dinner at Blue Orchid Thai Bistro, we headed home. A girly weekend full of inappropriateness, alcohol, good food, and shopping is always good for the soul. And thanks to Jenna and her gracious Mom, I got just that!