the jmeoww diaries: v.12

Well, hello there! Long time, I know. We are beyond overdue for this edition of JMD and while the Queen Beast and I were brainstorming we came up with nothing! Nothing monumental, you see. She has become increasingly more lovable and cuddly. STOP THE PRESSES. Right? You see now why I have no blog content. However, she still has and always will have her evil tendencies. And her hilarious moments. So here are a few notable ones that occurred over the past few weeks:

The love of her life, Justin, bought her a house (so he could put away the plastic storage bin she had proclaimed her land). Her very own house aka the new base of attack operations. Shortly after the house purchase, I received a new purse in the mail that came in OMG A BOX. With tissue that made REALLY FUN TISSUE BALLS. Which means I won the house wars. Until I went out of town for a minute and Justin threw the precious box away. Like the devil himself.

HEAVENS.

Once she decided that said house was acceptable and totally not scary, she started sleeping on the cozy spot on top of it and my heart exploded into a million and one thousand pieces. Guys, when your cat has chased your naked ass through the living room trying to make you bleed, the quiet and sweet moments are much more meaningful.

We also sleep here. We sleep a lot.

She stole my cuddle spot. What the fuck are you even talking about, Tiffany? Okay, bear with me on this one. When we go to bed at night, I always curl up in the same spot on Justin. GROSS BARF, I KNOW. I will give you a minute to recover from our disgusting adorableness. One night as I was ipadding and pinning all of the things as usual, she jumped up on the bed like she always does for aggressive nighttime cuddles. Except she didn't come and stand all 15 pounds of herself on my delicate sternum like she always does. No. Instead, she went straight for the cuddle spot and stretched out all fucking proud. I WAS APPALLED. But also hysterically laughing because of her smug little expression. She laid there for about 4 total minutes (which is about 2 minutes longer than her normal cuddle sesh) and the entire time kept looking at me over her shoulder, like "SEE. SEE THIS?" Yes, animal. I see that you remain as the dominant being in our relationship.

She proved the Japanese wrong. And continues to do so. I can call her name from another room and she comes right to me and jumps up for some brief cuddles. Shit, she hears my car beep when I lock it and walk upstairs and she is at the door like a proud puppy ready to greet me. THEY CARE, JAPAN.

And like the stereotypical feline that she is when she thinks no one is looking, she has taken up her holiday residence underneath the Christmas tree. MY HEART. You guys, it is so fucking cute. Until we go to bed and hear the gentle rattle of ornaments and run out to catch her staring at the shiny balls on the floor like they are the most special treasure we have ever given her. The tree has been up for 5 days. She has knocked off 5 ornaments. And she is so happy about it. She just loves the tree we gave her.

Like a goddamned Christmas card.

I know. You try successfully photographing an all-black cat and report back to me. Better yet, those of you with an elf on the shelf — replace said elf with this photo and tell those damn kids that JMEOWW IS WATCHING.

That might be the best idea I've ever had. Look out, Christmas 2014. Jmeoww on a shelf, coming to a store near you! 

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.

this one time...

This one time I started a blog that I couldn't be bothered to keep updated because of 900 equally unimportant reasons. What might those be? SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

This one time...

• I severely injured my shoulder/neck trying on a wedding dress. Shit is dangerous. The first place that I went to completely dresses you. The place I tried last weekend, not so much. Also, my thighs. This combination led to me contorting my body in unnatural ways because I AM A SIZE 10 OKAY. Which led to a night filled with muscle relaxers and much whining.

• A few weeks ago, I threw my bridal party an initiation party in which I fed them fancy cheese and gave them tons of wine. I also gave them a brochure about being in my bridal party so that when they ask me questions I can say PLEASE REFER TO YOUR PAMPHLET. 

Those flower girls? I might let them wear those dresses. They kill me dead.

• I became completely enamored with Veep and Battlestar Galactica. Season 3 of BSG is giving me all the feels. And to recover from said feels we watch Veep so I can laugh for 30 minutes straight.

• Eastbound and Down came back for one final season. Enough said.

• I realized I am marrying one of those "fall people." Also possibly a "lifestyle blogger." This all started on a sunny afternoon in Manhattan Beach in which he was served beer in a mason jar and flipped his balls over it. And then all the pumpkin flavored things. If he starts hasthtagging fall and talking about sweaters and boots, I will not speak to him until winter. Lucky for him I am the best of the best so I give into making all of the pumpkin flavored things because that is practically all that exists at Trader Joe's. You need some regular flavored crackers? TRY THESE PUMPKIN ONES INSTEAD. 

• At work today I said "nail colish polor" and realized that I may in fact be ill and that I should just go sleep for hours like my body is telling me to. I think that I may be ill because I have been depriving my body of all of the fattening and greasy and alcoholic goodness that it needs to survive. Why, you ask? See the first bullet point. 

• And finally, because what with this blog be without a story about a cat and also farting...last night as jmeoww was doing her nightly aggressive cuddles, Justin spooked her when he stood up because that is so scary. This led to her digging her claws into my chest which caused me to flinch and release a fart, audibly, that I had been holding on to for dear life because I would rather die of bloating than fart in front of Justin. Because he laughed for ten minutes while I hid under a blanket and laugh-cried.

Close enough to 900, yea? 

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.