a sob story

via here

I had multiple pity parties today. 
There were tears. There were shouts of anger. There were country music stations playing.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but I rarely turn my blog posting into a pity party. Feel free to link in the comments to past posts of mine that approach this dangerous blogging territory. I hope you don't find any. (Who wants to hear a bunch of whining?—I get it.)
So God crammed the majority of worst-day-ness for me into...today.
And I'll cram a year's worth of tearful self-pity into—hopefully—just this single post.


The story begins in a way that is perhaps counterintuitive to the title of this post:

I have the best dad. 

In the world. Ever. Of all dads that have or ever will exist.

Sure, we all have our dark days, but when it comes down to father-daughter relationships, I believe the most important thing is does she truly know he loves her? 

I totally do. Without a doubt.

(This is the part where I post a nostalgic photo of me and my dad, and you all go, "Awwwwwwwwww!")

Around my birthday I was feeling particularly homesick, so I sent my dad this text:

"You should come visit me!"

[Shout out to my mom, who is also amazingly wonderful! Over the summer, my mom took a roadtrip through Seattle with my aunt, and so we had some fun one-on-one time checking out my new-found Seattle life then, but my dad was only here during the overly stressful move-in week, over a year ago.]

Dad texted right back, totally into the idea, and totally excited. None of that, "Oh I think I might have a meeting" crap.
Long story short—really, I'm trying—we realized I had a free weekend coming up, so he booked a flight for last night. We planned, bought concert tickets, looked up other concert tickets, and I was oh-so-excited to have my dad so stoked to come hang out with me all weekend! 
When you're 26, single and living in a fairly new city, having your dad by your side is simply the best. Even when you're not single, it's the best. [But, let's be honest, especially if you're single.]

But then, this is how the last 24 hours went:

• Last night's United flight cancelled— ☹
• Rescheduled for this morning
• Dad flies from SBA to LAX this morning—YAY!
• Next flight cancelled
• Mom calls me at 7am with the news
• I cry
• Dad gets whole new flight from LAX to SFO on Virgin America—YAY!
• Next flight cancelled
• Next flight cancelled
• Next flight cancelled
• You get the idea
• I cry some more, picturing my poor, sweet dad vainly trying to get on the next flight, and then the next flight, and then the next...just to come see me for about the same amount of time he'd already spent in the airport. After getting up at 3am.
• Dad gets back to his starting point (aka NOT Seattle) around midnight.

In the middle of all of this, the snow is creeping higher and higher over the streets of Seattle. I drive a two-door Honda. And I had to work today.

I'm also from California and don't own snow clothes. Or anything that remotely resemble snow clothes. Shout out to my roommates who swaddled me in smothering layers and snow-booted my twice-socked feet. 

And then I walked to work. Two miles. Uphill. In the snow. Like the kind where it's 28 degrees.

I told you this was a pity party/sob story post. 

And the partying really only takes off when you're alone, I've realized. With no one to punch your tear-stained face back into reality and remind you that there are homeless people with no shoes dealing with the same weather elements. Who have never even owned a Northface!

Twice I walked past a 4WD truck warming its engine in its driveway, and I almost got in the passenger side hoping no questions would be asked. [Don't worry, Mom, I'm only half joking.]

Work was hectic. Tips were lame. There was no dad to greet me with jokes and hugs at the end of my shift. And I found out that the mysterious hot guy who lives up the street and drives a black truck has a girlfriend. And she owns cute snow clothes.

My plans for the evening:

• stop looking at GreenWeddingShoes.com ("My life could be so much better!")
• start reading my current memoir about a raging drug addict ("My life could be so much worse!")
• drink a glass of Riesling while reading about said drug addict—just one glass.

last Christmas...

This time last year I was with my real family. In California. Holiday-ing it up.

Hey Dad!

Please supply your own captions.

 

 "Sisters...sisters..." —White Christmas

Dad pole dancing. Mom improv dancing.

Classic Emily face.

 Truth be told, we are a fun bunch.

I have no recollection of where our youngest sister was. Sorry Becks. But you probably found a more traditionally normal family to tag along with by this point.

I'm in California...

...where no one goes below 75 on the freeways, no one can parallel park, and no one tips at coffee shops. 

Ahhhh, home.

Wasn't expecting this, but I'm actually missing Seattle. I know...right?!

So I found an alcove in one of my fav SB coffee shops between friend dates and shopping with Mom to sit back and process. New reading material close by, some surprisingly good cold-brewed coffee...and there's even a guy outside the window wearing a hoodie and smoking a cigarette on a bike. Perhaps Seattle and Santa Barbara are more similar than we thought...except for the fact that the coffee shop is playing Pepper. So that's a struggle.

I'll get all introspective on you guys later (who's excited?!?!), but for now, some photos that just make me glow inside. I've shown her off before on the blog...in fact I think she was one of my first posts two years ago! 

Meet Zoe, my sort-of-niece...aka my cousin's 5-year-old daughter. Every time I see her (every time) she asks if I brought my "clicky camera." And so we do photo shoots. Every time. The missing-tooth-gap kills me. I'm in love.

 

In other news, head over to my dear friend Allie's blog, No Small Dreams, to see me rattle off about high school crushes and semi-embarrassing "pros & cons" lists. Life-changing stuff.

momsicles

 

How cute is this? My mom and her sister took a roadtrip from Santa Barbara to Northern California to visit my cousin, then to Portland to meet up with their other sister, then to Victoria, Canada, to visit their aunt and uncle, and then to Seattle to see me!

Nothing like sister-bonding on the road.

Reminds me of this video Sister #2 and I made in January.

My mom is one in a million, but boy does she have a sweet tooth. And that's fine for her, because throughout most of my life, she's weighed significantly less than me. Props to her.

That being said, we rocked Seattle in true dessert-lovers fashion, and I joined a gym the day she left. :)

Top Pot Donuts • Macrena Bakery • Mighty-O Donuts • Zoka • Molly Moon's Ice Cream

And no, that list is not all-inclusive.

 

We also marched all over Seattle, and it was awesome feeling like I finally live here and have earned the right to 'show people my city.' 

Nordstrom Anniversary sale, antique-shopping down town, thrift store shopping on Capitol Hill, sightseeing all the famous parks and lookouts (Gas Works, Kerry...).

 

They even let me have an hour alone to watch the finale of Friday Night Lights. Took me a while to pull myself together after that one. If you're missing it already, watch this little "best of" highlights video. 

It includes my two favorite lines (just humor me):

Tyra: "I have dreams, Tim."
Tim: "I know you do. I have dreams too...maybe one day our dreams can merge together."

 •

Eric to Tami: "I wanna go to Philadelphia. Will you take me to Philadelphia with you, please?"

 

momsicles

It's MY MOM's birthday! Wooooeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooo! She's only 35, but she barely looks a day over 30!

(Obvs trying to score daughter points here. No my mom wasn't pregnant at age 10.)

Leave a comment about how much you love her/how fabulous she is and I'll forward them on to her.
Right now Sister #2 is in Santa Barbara scoring major points since she'll be the only daughter actually with my mom on her birthday. 

Suck up.

I love you, Mommy! ☺

happy 22nd!

 

...to my sister Emme!

She's the real deal.

And I'm so blessed to have her in my life.

1...2...3

Wishing we could all three be together on this day!

together again ♥

Vera & Stan Kuschnir

My maternal grandfather passed away on Saturday, just in time to be with his beloved wife in heaven for Valentine's Day. He just couldn't live any longer on this earth without her. 

Losing two grandparents in one month is something none of us were prepared for, but they are together again in paradise! What a way to celebrate.

Praise God for perfect peace that surpasses all understanding.

Miss you both! Love you always.

♥

miss you already, Grandma!

Heaven scored a leading lady this week, when my grandmother Vera Kuschnir passed away suddenly Friday afternoon. She was a writer, a translator, a brilliant woman, and so well-loved by those around her. She made me proud of my Russian heritage, and who I was in Christ.

I think the hardest part for me through it all is watching my mom miss her mom. She has been carrying huge burdens for the rest of us, and handling her own grief with grace and dignity.

On the other hand though, I am beyond excited for my Grandma Vera...she is free of hardship, pain, sorrow and all the other junk we have to deal with down here. My dad said it well: "My "Other Mother" went to Heaven on Friday. I bet she's smiling pretty big today!"

So Grandma, thank you for paving the way for me. Thank you for being interested in my life when you were here and encouraging me in the simplest of ways. I am so excited for you to finally get true rest. Love you always. Miss you already. Hope to make you proud.

And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise 

 

kind-of-cousins

We spent Christmas Eve with my mom's side of the family, and my cousin Kirsty has the most adorable 5-year-old girl you will ever meet. (Or not meet, most likely.) So I believe that makes her my second cousin. 
She is crazy high-energy and one-of-a-kind. We broke away from the Christmas Eve chaos and played with Photo Booth for a while...

The girl is obsessed with Photo Booth. There are about 80 more where these came from. LOVE HER!

merry christmas...love, the Jacks

We gave up on sending out family Christmas cards years ago. And then this happened circa 2005. Go ahead and try to tell me your family is cooler. Just try.

Song: Winter Wonderhop by Fleming and John (aka the tune of Led Zeppelin's Misty Mountain Hop)

thanksgiving: little house on the prairie edition

This Thanksgiving our choices were Santa Barbara with extended relatives...or a Vegas timeshare. 

So we opted for a 10'x10' cabin on the outskirts of Lake Arrowhead, which apparently is always an option when your mom is Ika Jacks, who has supernatural last-minute reservation-booking powers. She also has supernatural Scrabble powers. Don't ever play Scrabble with her. By our second turn, I had 22 points and she had 103. Not kidding.

Look! The cabin is as big as the car!

       

making mashed po's

cozy. quaint. all those cabin-y words. 

turkey & apple cider on the bedside table

no room on the table for the mashed po's...good thing the bed is only two feet away!

Dad mad place cards :)

We also gave Jack a turkey leg. Thought it'd be fun to see if the tryptophan from the turkey would knock him into a coma. It didn't. But his eyes did look a little cracked out the next day.

We also made the poor little guy wear this AWESOME NEON GREEN HOODIE! the entire vacation.

Jack was also scared to pee in the snow. 

blogging, perhaps...?

sisters: 1, 2 & 3

I also attempted to eat a caramel apple with mittens on. Maybe don't try that. But definitely do try drinking a cappuccino out of a wine glass (Thanks, Daddy!)...you'll feel like Holly Golightly.

And I really do have a dad...but he was taking this photo "of his girls"  :)

Hope Thanksgiving was fabulous for you all too...full of warmth, board games and lots of cuddling. mj

we jacuzzied in the snow

29 degrees. No big deal.

poor little jack jacks

Yep. My sister named her dog Jack. Jack Jacks. The little mutt just can't catch a break. 
Last week he got hit by a car. AND SURVIVED. And the guy is like barely a foot tall, so we still don't quite know how he managed to pull himself out of that one. But it makes for a good story nonetheless. Not to mention I'm totally the hero of this one. 

I had just woken up and sat down at our kitchen table with my mom, when we hear Jack screeching and whimpering at the top of his little Jack Russell/Chihuahua mix lungs. We look out the window just in time to see a silver SUV (WHO DIDN'T STOP!) continue on up our neighborhood street...while Jack rolls out from underneath it—battered, bleeding, and somehow scampering up our driveway. The entire time—all of three seconds so far—my mom is starting to cry and screaming, "Is he dead? Is he dead?!?!" And then proceeds to run into the other room, leaving me to greet the almost-roadkill at the door. 

Backstory: Besides my dad, whom Jack still growls at, I'm probably the next person who likes and enjoys Jack the least. But man, do I pull through in emergency situations. 

So there I am in the entry way of our house, holding a bleeding and—how do I say this, defecating?—dog who is going into shock in my arms and shaking profusely. My mother is screaming about how she can't look, and therefore, can't drive him to the vet. "Mom, I can't hold a falling apart dog AND drive a car at the same time. Pick one."

Needless to say she drove. And I held the bleeding animal. 

Details that will become important later in the story: I had just woken up when all this happened. I had mascara under my eyes, wasn't wearing a bra with my oh-so-hot gray thermal shirt and sweatpants that now had huge wet stains over the crotch because of the wash cloth I was holding to wipe the blood off Jack. Oh, and that blood was also all over my shirt, pants and body, along with whatever else was coming out of or off Jack's body. Picture of morning beauty!

I didn't think twice about any of this though because, after all, JACK JUST GOT HIT BY A CAR, and when it comes to pets, obviously I love Jack the most (see photo below).

So I hand off Jack to the vet the minute we step inside the animal hospital, sit down in the waiting room, and look down at my self in slight disgust. And in walks a guy I graduated with in college. Insert all those luscious details about my ghastly appearance here. 

"Oh, you manage this vet hospital? Of course you do. Of course."

Moral of story: Jack had a round of x-rays and some pain meds prescribed to him, but he is oh-so-fine now with no broken bones and only minor abrasions. WONDER DOG! Back to sleeping with the cat. Who is bigger than him. What a guy.