There's an oil for that.

In my quest to be more conscious of what I am putting on and in my body (except for beer, please don’t ask me about beer), I recently purchased a very highly rated organic-vegan-cruelty free face wash. Upon using it for the first time, I BURST INTO FLAMES. Okay, not actual flames. But when I looked in the mirror post-shower, I was terrified. Was I dying? Had the vitamin-C that was supposed to rejuvenate my tired skin turned against me? Maybe I overreacted just a bit, like that’s not unusual. But when something is labeled organic-vegan-cruelty free and is basically made of cloud whispers, I expect it NOT to burn off my skin.

This quest to avoid ALL THE BAD THINGS can be challenging and most of the time I take the easy way out. And most of the time I avoid getting roped into “things.” But let me tell you about essential oils…

No really! Please let me tell you. Because I am currently in a state of constant confusion and overwhelmed-ness about them. And as an educated woman with a biology degree, I *know* I shouldn’t let these magical oils BUT I AM. A large population of similarly well-educated females at my place of employment are into them. Like IN-TO them. And they have been so kind and generous with their samples and education and oil-party nights in which I get to smell all the things and do a scan test that told me my main life problems. And hot damn if that scan test didn’t hit a few (of the many) issues right on the head. For myself AND my friends. And perhaps maybe one or two of those scans showed weight management issues and I was like, I GET IT. Do I rub the oils on my fat to make it disappear? (The answer is no, especially since I learned the hard way that some oils are “hot” and will “burn” your skin...akin to the holy water facewash I tried this morning).

Yes, I understand multi-level marketing companies (Hi, Avon!). I also understand that essential oils are not going to cure cancer; but if they can help out with the blues and a bit of the sniffles (and a bit of the snoring) then I am SOLD. Also, some just smell really great. Also, some just don’t (meat marinade...you get it).

I sense that my issue here is classic avoidance. I know what is going on with my body. I fell off the wagon after the wedding. Nay, I leapt off the wagon screaming NO SALADS NO PAIN and never looked back. And here I am 10 months later chubby and constantly battling low energy and summer colds. If I could just get back on that stupid miserable wagon, I would be fine. I wouldn’t need any magical oils to cure my various ailments.

But like what IF they work, you know? WHAT IF? Don't worry, you'll be sure to hear back from me about this either way.

the jmeoww diaries: V.14

I know you all are wondering about Justin and I and the wedding and everything that has happened since. But I really know that anything that has happened in our lives is far less interesting than anything that has happened in hers...

It's totally okay, I accept that you all are here for her. While she did not actually make it to the wedding, she was there in spirit in the form of cardboard cutouts at the photobooth. She was a hit, as always.

Probably the next biggest thing to her unofficial marriage to Justin was moving to a new apartment. The entire process of finding a place, packing, moving, and unpacking is incredibly stressful for the humans. But for the meoww, she has her own story to tell.

Justin and I both had requirements for our new apartment. Must have a washer and dryer. Must have A/C. Must feel like a castle. And so on. But the one qualifier that got us the oddest looks from the apartment managers was an enclosed patio on the second floor. For our cat. A CATIO, if you will. Imagine us telling eight different apartment managers that their patio/balcony was in fact not good enough for our cat. We knew that for our sanity and hers, she needed to go outside in a safe, enclosed space. She had spent nearly three years expending pent up energy and anger out on that patio and also creeping out the neighbors. She LOVED that patio. And the thought of taking that away from her made us feel like terrible humans. So our new place would have to have a catio.

Well, turns out human needs trumped hers for once and she did not get the perfect catio. There is a small balcony, but it is concrete rather than fencing or railing and we imagined we could make it work. We will build a weather-proof cat tower that is tall enough for her to see the world! We will make this work and feel like less terrible humans!

But we haven't needed to build said dangerous cat tower because this glorious apartment has one thing that our old place didn't have for her: WINDOWS. The cave that we previously lived in had a sliding glass door and two bedroom windows that were blocked by our TV and dresser. But this castle? ALL THE WINDOWS. She can see the world from the air-conditioned indoors and peep on the neighbors just fine! Windows completely eliminated the need for the actual outside world. And us humans could feel a little less guilty.

The one tiny hangup with this perfect situation? Her fatass didn't know how to jump up on windowsills. Three months later, you guys, she still takes a spill every now and then and I die. Just die. Her intial attempts at getting up on the windowsill involved jumping straight up and using her claws to cling on to the ledge and just hang there while I scrambled to try to get a photo. Which was great for the new coat of paint. Then she learned she needed to launch all 14-pounds of her bad self up and onto the ledge but at the right speed as to not slam her face into the glass. I TRIED TO FILM IT, I DID. It was quite possibly my favorite part of moving. Jmeoww learning how to use windowsills, who would've thought.

Justin just discovered this picture on his phone and I can't stop cackling about it. It could not be more perfect.

To ease her troubles a bit her non-legal husband Justin decided to purchase yet ANOTHER piece of cat furniture which he said he would never have in his home. A nearly four foot tower that is her vessel of relaxation but also used for creeping on the neighbors. You guys I swear 6 nights a week she is up in the tower either watching us or watching the neighbors. I legitimately thought the neighbors were going to complain because she just. sits. there. And she doesn't just sit. She loooooounges. Full meow relaxation in her queen tower. Limbs poking out of the climbing hole, leg stretched out over the side. Sometimes she clings to the edge and looks down like she has never been up that high ever. And every now and then she gets in an epic battle with her tail or the tower or both. And we will pause the TV to watch it play out, because marriage.

So basically, jmeoww's life has been pretty darn great. Her only complaint is that we aren't in the same room with her at all times, and also where are the kibbles?

Until next time, jmeoww fans!

Step 1: Insert title

Approximately one hour and nine minutes have passed since I sat down to write this. Rather than write something, I have spent: 45 minutes on Amazon looking for a birthday gift; 10 minutes scrolling through my Facebook feed and rolling my eyes; 5 minutes applying to volunteer for the cat adoption center at Petco; and 9 minutes watching jmeoww kill dead the toys I place on her tower just to get her riled up.

Basically what I am trying to say is THIS IS HARD. I have every intention of writing again and sharing our ridiculous and sometimes mundane lives with you but you should see how hilariously violent that cat gets when the sushi toy is on her tower.

I have intentions and things to say. Can we call this a baby step? Yes, lets.

ps - can someone tell me how to make my blog titles UN-green?

pps - yes, jmeoww has moved into a tower and we can't wait to tell you more about it.

testing...

...is this thing on?

STAY TUNED (the three of you that still maybe possibly have me in your blog reader!)!!!!!!

things we need less of.

I spend a lot of time browsing the internet. WHAT. Totally surprising, I know. Next thing you know I'm going to be admitting that I like cats or that I'm getting married.

So throughout my browsing, I see a ton, more like a SHIT ton of tutorials and recipes. And some of them are incredibly helpful. Such as the one that taught me how to easily remove labels from glass bottles. Or the one that taught me how to make tissue tassel garland (helpful, although not easy).

And then some of these tutorials and recipes can best be described as...remedial. FOR INSTANCE, I present to you tutorials and recipes that we need less of.

• TOAST, four ways!
• A different take on the braid (you can show me 27 different french braid tutorials and I still won't be able to do it).
• THE BEST, no really the best ever best mac n' cheese.
• How to stock a bar/coffee cart! <- but what even are these and is it really that hard?
• Buns, buns, and more buns.
• The ONLY smoothie recipe you need! Then why are there 3,001 of them on pinterest? Guys, smoothies: a green, some fruit, liquid base, and whatever seeds or powders you wish to add. It is not a science.
• Cauliflower pizza crust. More like cauliflower not even a little bit like fucking pizza crust so no.
• Painting or glittering bottles, jars, and/or terracota pots. APPLY PAINT TO VESSEL. BOOM. 

Truth be told, the toast was what sent me over the edge and inspired this post. It is fucking bread. That you put in a machine. And put a variety of other tasty things on top of. Again not deserving of its own masters program.

Basically, I spend too much time online. What tutorials and recipes have you had enough of?