if i were queen of the world

the day we thought would never come

2007-04-27T00:50:00.000-04:00

um, hi.
i know you've been missing me.
i mean...
your comments yelling at me for being gone since monday...
those came out of love, right?

anyway.

i wasn't going to tell you this yet...i wanted to make sure it was perfect first (or as close to perfect as possible)...
but my new blog is ready.

i haven't gone through and categorized my old posts yet, i haven't fiddled too much with the 'about' pages, and the header isn't as great as i had imagined.
but, it's it's there.

and, to be honest?
i'm feeling a little sad as i type this.
i will miss this little blogger-posting window. i mean, it only ate a post one time...it wasn't that bad.

but, i'm moving on.
i hope you'll come with me.

i'm not going to delete this page quite yet (separation anxiety...), but if you want to see anything new, you're just going to have to CLICK RIGHT HERE

see you soon?

stuff. and also, things.

2007-04-20T01:08:00.000-04:00

(alternate title: in which i attempt to make up for lost time.)

this may possibly be my randomest post ever.
and, yes, i'm aware that 'randomest' is not actually an actual word. i just don't care.

at any rate, here's what i have to say:

1) official progress has been officially made at my new blog. i still can't tell you where it is, but i can say that when i type in my new URL, there is actually something that exists in what was previously a completely blank server space, or whatever. now, i know many of you will be all what the eff is the problem, lady??!!?? to which i reply, i'm an idiot, that's what the problem is!! perhaps you should pay more attention, because i'm not exactly hiding that fact, people!!

ahem.
anyway.
for the first time in a month, progress has been made.
i expect that once i get that batman guy over here, things will begin to progress even quicklier-like.
so, hang in there.
good things are coming.
or, at least, things that don't totally suck.

i don't want to set you up for disappointment.

2) and then there's this:

being that i'm part of the team at wtb!?, it's kind-of my duty to post an ass hat entry, even though i can't win a prize.

i've been paritcipating, but, this week i just don't have time to do the work that i normally would. for instance, i would have loved to do some research and post an entry about how stupid paris hilton is, complete with one hundred frillion links to different letters and text messages that she's sent to 3 frillion different boyfriends, many of which confused words like 'they're' and 'their,' and 'your' and 'you're'...but i just wasn't able to find the time.

and, for the record?
i'm totally not being sarcastic.

i really wanted to make a case against paris hilton.

alas, i'm sure that the 'ass hat celebrity' theme will return at some point, and i will knock it out of the park.

wait for it, people.

until then, entertain yourself with the emails of another uneducated celebrity 'pretty-girl', courtesy of mamapop.
here is a picture of an email between paris hilton and lindsay lohan:

(hint: if you reallywant to read that, you can click it and it will get bigger. i think. if only all things in life were so easy.)
up first for discussion is the fact that apparently 'broughten' is now a word.
also on the table: having lots of money means you have to act like you're in high school forever?
it kind of makes me glad that i'm poor.
next time that i want a new coach bag or a pair of uggs, and i feel sad that i can't get them right away because i will have to save for a few weeks to afford them...i will just take a moment to reflect on the fact that i can spell.

and, speaking of mamapop...
have you been there?
you should totally go there, because it rules.
and so ends another chapter in the gospel of tiffness.

3) has anyone else played that taggy game where you have to show what your desktop screensaver thing looks like?
i was supposed to do this a long time ago, and i just spent 20 minutes--seriously, people, 20 minutes of my life that i will never get back--trying to figure out who demanded this of me, but i can't.
at any rate, my screensaver changes every 30 minutes, and as far as i can tell i have 7 bilion options that rotate through every now and then. to be completely honest, 98% of them are courtesy of that batman guy. but, here are the ones that i really like:

(edited to add: i have just been yelled at. apparently these things are wallpapers, not screensavers. whatever. some days i'm just glad that i can type. i can't be bothered with that nonsense. which may explain why i can't make my new blog work, but we'll deal with that later, ok?)

4) a big thank-you to miss zoot for showing me the new harry potter trailer. and, because the internet is (or should) be all about spreading the love, i now give you the new harry potter trailer, which is the awesome. the awesome what, you ask?
just the awesome. that's all.
like, you could look 'awesome' up in a dictionary and you would find this movie trailer. except, no, you wouldn't, because i just made that up.
but, i'm giddy.
you're just going to have to deal with it for now. i'm sure it will go away in a few seconds, as giddy isn't normally in my nature.

see?
awesome = this trailer.
i may have had a few tears. but don't tell anyone.
i mean, did you catch that glimpse of bellatrix? and harry kissing cho? i may have just had a mild stroke. fuck blogher, we should just all get together to hole up for a week, watch this movie, and read the new book.
just kidding, i'm totally going to blogher. who else is going to teach me how to use the internet?
but, if anyone wants to do a harry potter party...i can't lie. i might very well be down for that as well.
p.s. i hate umbridge. and also the fact that there is only one more harry potter book ever. for all time.

*weeps*

ok, come back tomorrow.
this is all i have for you at this time.

and feed them on your dreams...

2007-04-16T22:06:00.000-04:00

last night, i started writing a post about the baby shower i threw for b.g. yesterday.
actually, it wasn't really about the shower. it would be more accurate to say that it was inspired by the shower, by the multitude of baby things: tiny pink pumas, cute little dresses with those matching diaper cover thing-things, and, of course, all the practical crap like butt-wipes, car seats, bouncy seats, and the like.

it started with all of the crap that b.g. got yesterday; i just couldn't get over how such a teensy little person can require so much...stuff. and then i started thinking, even with these carloads of crap...is she going to have enough stuff? how can we reallly make sure that she's going to have everything she needs?

and then i started thinking about the bigger picture: like, material crap aside, how are we going to raise this little girl?
yes, i say we.
it takes a village, you know.

all of the sudden, i just couldn't stop thinking about b.g., and i, and all of the crap that we've helped each other through. there've been so many lessons that we had to learn the hard way: so many nights crying on the couch, so many freak-outs about things that weren't worth it, so many moments of self-doubt. thank god we were there to help each other through it. but, now, i wonder: can we raise this baby girl to be a better woman than we have been? can we give her everything she'll need so that one day she will walk out into the world with her head high, sensitive to the needs and desires and opinions of others, but still sufficiently self-confident that she will never be broken by the needs, desires, and opinions of those other people?

****
working in the bar, b.g. and i have been through many 'cycles' of workers. being that we work in a college town, we'll have about two years with a pretty consistent crew, and then they'll move on, and we'll get a new crew who seem like the norm after a while. but, b.g. and i? we worked there before we went to school, we worked there while we went to school, and now that we're done with school...yeah, we still work there.
(we will not discuss the possibility that going to school at all may have been an enormous waste of time and money, because some of us might still be pretending that they will actually get a job 'in their field' at some point.)
the point is:
when b.g. and i first started working at the bar, we were the young ones.
(sadly, that was over 10 years ago)
we were the ones with the overly dramatic stories of woe, and the break-ups that we thought would surely kill us, and we had the 'older girls' who already worked there to teach us the ropes. sure, they taught us how to drink, how to work a double with a hangover and only 45 minutes of sleep, and many other such things. but they were also our therapists. they listened to our stories, and they weren't phased: they had seen it all. they listened, and they gave us advice. they called us on our overly dramatic crap.
they gave us perspective.

now, b.g. and i are the 'older girls.'
(actually, we've been the 'older girls' for quite some time now)
for the past few years, we've been the ones that the younger girls come to. now, we call them on their overly dramatic bullshit, but we also try to give them strength. we try to help them be better than we were.

we try to get them to love themselves more than we have loved ourselves.

we try to give them perspective.

and, while i'm sure it is helpful...
mainly, we've learned that there is one steadfast rule that comes with being a woman: we simply refuse to learn from each others mistakes.
we insist on making them for ourselves.
now, this isn't to say that there isn't some value to trying.
when you go out there and fuck something up really bad, it is always comforting to know that you're not the only ass hat to have ever done such a thing.
it's that whole 'strength in numbers' thing, i suppose.
still, we've been frustrated many times when--no matter how convincing we were, no matter how much evidence we gave, no matter how much the object of our advice agreed with us--they simply cannot stop themselves from learning the hard way.
****

but, now? b.g. is about to give the world a whole new person, and i wonder: can we finally break the cycle?

can we make her love herself more than we have loved ourselves?
****

anyway, that's what i started writing last night.
then, today, i woke up and saw that someone had shot someone else in their dorm room at virginia tech.
at noon, i looked at the tv again, and all of the sudden they were saying that at least 20 people had been killed. shortly after, they upped the number to 32. apparently, some guy walked into a classroom and started shooting people.
and, of course, i know it's cliche, but i started thinking about how it must be the scariest thing ever, to buy all this baby stuff: a rubber duck-head thing to cover the faucet in your bathtub, baby aspirin, a car seat, a monitor for the baby's room, so you can always make sure that they're breathing, and still know that there is absolutely nothing you can really do to keep your baby safe, because it lives in a world where sometimes people get mad and go on random shooting sprees.

but, that's just the same old story, right? there's never been a baby born into a completely safe world.
we can't protect her from everything.

but, we can hopefully raise her to see the good in things, before she sees the bad.
we can teach her to love and laugh with every ounce of her being, so that any bad moments--which will inevitably come--will be at least slightly more tolerable because real love and laughter are insulators of the soul, and they can keep you strong in trying times--even if you can't summon a laugh, or even a smile, in the moment.

we can love her with our whole souls, and we can hope that she loves herself the same way.

really, if she loves herself even a little, we will have succeeded.

at any rate, i can't wait to start trying.
i can't wait to see b.g. and tim become the little family that they almost are, and i can't wait to see how much love is about to come into this world.
****

and you probably can't wait for me to stop it already, with the sappiness.

in which i, again, require some help.

2007-04-12T00:18:00.000-04:00

so, remember how my best friend is having a baby?

well, on sunday, i'm throwing a shower in her honor. and i'm very excited about it.

but, the thing is, i've been so excited thinking about things like: what will i give her as a gift? what sort of delicious treats will i serve? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHICH CHAIR SHOULD I TIE THOUSANDS OF PINK BALLOONS TO, SO I CAN MAKE HER SIT IN IT WHILE SHE OPENS HER GIFTS???
and i sort of forgot to think of anything for us to do at the shower, other than, you know, eat and open presents.
now, i don't want to get all out of hand with the stupid games that nobody ever wants to play anyway...but i am sort of thinking that we should have at least one game.

so, does anyone have any ideas?
has anyone ever been to a baby shower and played a game that was even moderately cool and/or entertaining?

please...
i'm begging you.
dig into your inner martha stewart andcome up with an idea for me.

p.s.
i have the menu planned, but if you have some kind of an amazing party recipe, i'd totally love to know that, too. if not for this particular party, it would just be awesome to have.

now, get going!
you have work to do!

it's always something

2007-04-10T00:34:00.000-04:00

to: jelly beller maker-type peoples
re: flavor?
from: tiffany, with the wounded palatte

dear people who make jelly bellys,

someone needs to explain why i just reached into a delicious looking bowl of colorful little jelly beans and ended up chewing on something that tasted like PINE TREE. and, not just pine tree. no, it would be remiss of me to call it anything other than CHEWY PINE TREE.

now, i have no way of knowing whose fault this is, but i can say that someone in your company definitely needs to be fired, for they clearly have no concept of what candy is meant to be: something that tastes sweet and delicious.

has anyone ever looked at a pine tree and had the urge to break off a twig and have a little snack?

i think not.

i suffered further trauma when i couldn't get the pine tree taste out of my mouth. obviously, i could not simply reach in for another bean, hoping to wash the bad flavor away. i mean, who knows what other horrors could have been waiting for me inside that bowl? i wouldn't want to wash down a pine tree bean with a motor-oil flavored bean, or some other such nonsense.

and that's why i had to eat the almod joy bar that was in the fridge.

after the taste had been significantly cleansed from my palatte, a childhood memory suddenly popped into my mind--and, what do you know, it involved another flavor-trauma that i suffered at the hands of your 'candy' company, when i innocently reached into a bowl of candy and was rewarded with a bloody mary flavored jelly bean.

now, i know that you've been rocking the whole harry potter thing, with your bertie bott's every flavor beans, and good for you! we all need to make a buck. sure, you've included flavors like 'vomit,' 'dirt,' 'earwax,' and 'rotten eggs,' but people know what they're in for when they purchase these candies. why people buy them is a mystery to me--i love harry potter as much as the next 14 year old, but there's no way in hell i would eat those beans. still, they are properly labeled, and as such you are not putting any innocent candy seekers at risk.

however, i did a little web-snooping, and i found out that the following flavors are all included in your regular assorted bean packs:

1. jalepeno
2. roasted garlic
3. baked bean
4. bacon

seriously, jelly belly peoples.
you are some sick fucks.

i recommend that you eat an entire bag of bacon and pine tree flavored beans, and see if that changes your tune any.

if you would like to chat further, you can find me scouring the candy aisles at my local target and other such places, in search of reduced-price easter candy. i'll be the one with the basket full of jolly rancher jelly beans.
those things rule.

have a nice day,
tiffany

the bar is an ass hat breeding ground

2007-04-05T23:21:00.000-04:00

this post contains bad words. cover your eyes if you are easily offended.

*****
so, it's about that time...

to prove my undying devotion to wtb!?, i have to tell you a story about an 'ass hat at work.'
lucky for me (???), i work at a bar, where there is never a shortage of ass-hattedness.

*****

there is a lady who's been coming into our bar for years. to be honest, i've never liked her. i thought she was a crazy bitch the first time i saw her, but i tried to keep it to myself. i mean, i have flaws, too. and one of them happens to be being too judgemental. so, i behaved myself and awaited further input on the situation.

alas, it turned out that i was right.
not only is this lady a crazy bitch...she just might be the craziest bitch ever.
there's a specific story that i want to tell you about her, but first, of course, i have to give you the background.

to that end, i now present a list of crazy things this lady (whom we shall refer to as kim, because that is her name) has done since we were first exposed to her craziness.*

one: she walked in and sat next to my friend (who shall be known as GT) at the bar. GT is a very friendly guy, so he chatted with her for a few minutes. then he turned back to his other friends to continue whatever conversation they were having before she sat down. a while later, she tapped him on the arm and announced: either you're eating my pussy tonight, or i'm going to kick your ass. this was very frightening to my friend, because not only did he not know this lady, but he's also gay. so, you know. the chances of him being persuaded to go home and eat pussy were not high.

at first, we dismissed that behavior by convincing ourselves that she must have been really drunk. still, we started to notice that everytime she came into the bar, even when she was stone-cold sober, she was always looking for a reason to be angry with our staff...

two: once kim came in and ordered some buffalo wings. because i know that she complains about everything, i asked about a million questions as i was taking the order, to ensure that the food would come out the way she wanted it.
ie) me: ok. so you want spicy wings with a side of ranch? her: yes. and a side of blue cheese, too. me: ok, so, spicy wings with a side of ranch and a side of blue cheese. anything else? her: no. that will be all. so, i bring out the spicy wings with the ranch and the blue cheese and she throws her hands up in disgust and practically screams how hard is it to bring me a side of honey mustard?

ummmm...
i don't know.
i suppose IT'S ABOUT AS HARD AS ASKING FOR A FREAKING SIDE OF HONEY MUSTARD, FUCKTARD.

oh.
ahem.
where were we ?

three: then there was the time kim got mad because b.g. wouldn't give her any quarters. she asked for change for a twenty, and specifically mentioned that she was going to get up and play pool. b.g. gave her a ten, a five, and 5 ones, because there is a quarter machine RIGHT NEXT TO THE POOL TABLE, and we only get a certain amount of quarters in our bar drawer for the night. kim then started yelling at jen for not giving her any quarters, and even went so far to say: aren't you only here to serve me?

you know, i really don't even want to go on at this point...
but you really aren't going to believe the next thing that happened.
this one was only about 3 weeks ago.

four: kim came into the bar and sat down next to GT again. the poor guy.
for reasons we will never be able to understand, she started telling him about her various vibrators. apparently, she has six different models, and for some reason she thought that GT needed to know all about them: what color they were, the differences in the way they vibrated, how many batteries each one required, WHAT SHE LIKED TO DO WITH THEM, etc.
GT tried four different times to politely let kim know that he wasn't interested in hearing about her vibrators, but she didn't believe him, and would just reply oh, yes. you're interested. while giving him what she probably thought was a sexy look...i don't know. to the rest of us, it just looked crazy. finally, GT had enough. he turned to look her right in the face and said: i'm sure that your vibrators are really great, but i'm gay. so, no. i'm really not interested in hearing about them.

and then she looked at him with pure disgust on her face and said:
oh. so, now you're a fucking faggot? that's great.

***it should be noted that i wasn't at the bar when this happened. had i been there, i would have grabbed her by the hair and thrown her right the fuck out of the bar. in fact, i got totally furious again, just typing that story.***

anyhow, i suppose that leads us up to the most recent epsisode of THE CRAZY i've suffered at the hands of this woman.

last saturday, i was bartending with xtina when kim showed up. i made xtina go over and deal with her, because i am the boss of her and she must do what i say. (hi xtina! i love you!)
kim ordered a bottle of molson light, as usual.
then she went to the bathroom.
she was gone for so long, we thought maybe she had left.
she hadn't paid for her beer, but we still hoped maybe she was gone. we would have gladly eaten the $3.50, if it meant we didn't have to deal with her anymore.

sadly, she returned.
and the way that she returned is quite possibly the most ridculous thing i have ever seen.
she walked back up to the bar, but she passed the spot where she had been sitting before.
you know, the spot where her beer and her coat were sitting.
instead, she walked five stools past her preivious spot, sat down, and glared at xtina and i for 15 minutes as if she was offended that we were ignoring her.

she knew damn well that she had a beer, and she chose to sit down at a different spot so that she could pretend like she was getting bad service. oh, and i should probably mention that the bar was pretty empty at this point, because that makes the situation even more ridiculous. i mean, she was sitting and glaring at us while her beer sat 5 EMPTY stools away.

finally, my boss walked over, pushed her beer towards her and said here, kim. this is your beer.

at first, she shook her head in disgust and pushed the beer away from her.
i know.
how dare we give you your beer?
what kind of an establishment are we running?

but, after a few minutes she realized that no one was going to bite on her whole 'why are these bartenders ignoring a new bar guest' game, and she retrieved her beer and started drinking.

we had a few minutes of complete normalness.

then, some kind of blues song came on the jukebox. i wish i could tell you what it was, but i honestly have no idea. what i DO know is that this lady--who had been sitting there trying to get pissed at us for 40 minutes--all of the sudden started bursting into song.
except, not really.
because she didn't know the words.
but she was pretending to sing along, and she was really into it.

because i love you so much, i've made a re-enactment for you. here is what kim looked like as she randomly busted out with emotion to the music:
(and, really? it did look like this. because she would be sitting with a sour look on her face and then she would be 'bursting with song' for a second. and then she'd be still again. and then back to the music, and so on.)

after the music moved on to something that she wasn't feeling quite as much, she wandered over and plucked a dirty shot glass off of a table and brought it back to her spot at the bar...where she started pouring 'shots' of her beer into it, and drinking them as if they were whiskey or something.

she was also seen telling four different guys that they would have more fun if they went home with her, rather than go home with their girlfriends.

oh, and i guess i forgot to tell you guys how this lady is the ugliest scrawniest most wrinkled-up old bag of hate i've ever seen. so, you know. your girlfriend would have to be pretty bad off before you'd prefer to go home with kim.

so, yeah.
i'm sorry it took so long, but i'm calling ass hat on this lady.

and, really?
i think if she comes in again while i'm working, i'm going to refuse to serve her. because...i know i gave a lot of examples of her heinousness...but, you just aren't allowed to call someone a faggot at my bar. i really think that behavior is reason enough to ban someone. and i would really like it if i never have to see that bitch again.

*this list is in no way complete, but her craziness is too expansive for one blog post. also, i can't be bothered to plan my writing ahead of time...so, you know. you get whatever comes to mind when i sit down and start typing.

2007-04-04T04:18:00.001-04:00

you want drunken opening day pictures?
well, shit.
you know i can't deny you.

here we are before anything of note happened:

we look pretty good for a couple of fools who are getting their drink on at 10am, no?

things started to get interesting when a bar regular that we randomly ran into started buying us shots of crown royal...

i no likey shots of crown royal.
or beer.

but, i CAN put on a positive face in the name of opening day.

i mean, come on.
i am no amateur.

but, sometimes?
pretending that you likey shots of crown royal when they really make you want to vomit on yourself can mean danger.

as in...
DANGER! IT'S A DRUNKEN VINNY!

(who, shortly after this photo was taken, disappeared to take a time-out [read: nap] in the alleyway behind the state theatre for, like, three or four hours.)

or...
DANGER! HIPPIE SARAH HAS HER BOOB OUT!

(AGAIN!)

or...
DANGER!
TOO MANY SHOTS OF CROWN ROYAL MAY LEAD YOU TO BE ATTRACTED TO RANDOM THINGS...

tiffany says: well, hello there...wall. you're looking mighty sexy today. would you like to buy me a drink?

on the way home, i took this picture of myself, so that my exact level of drunkeness could be preserved in hard copy for all of history...

all in all, i have to say i didn't do too badly. i mean, expecially considering that i must have been treading on really dangerous ground for a second there...you know, with that little wall episode.
i've certainly had opening days which ended far worse than this one...
in fact, while you guys are busy enjoying my beautiful photos, i think i'll go ahead and start working on the story--what i can remember of it--of opening day two years ago.
it is a scary story, so be prepared. but, what can i say? apparently bad things happen when a girl decides to go downtown for opening day, even though she doesn't have tickets for the game.

i don't want to give too much away, but i'll tell you this much:
the day ended with me, alone, sitting on a stool at a strip club, crying my eyes out.

i know you probably can't wait to hear this one...

oh freaking dear

2007-04-02T05:54:00.000-04:00

so, it's nearly 6am.
in an hour and a half, i have to get up.
and prepare for opening day.

(of the detroit tigers, of course.)

i should remind you all that, when i go to baseball games, i tend to end up looking like this:

or:

or:

or:

(okay, so that one wasn't the worst picture ever. buti got excited by the nice shot of the field. sue me.)

and, apparently, sometimes i have to take a picture of myself in the bathroom mirror?
please see below:

i don't know. but, should i ever feel compelled to do such a thing again, i will try to remind myself that if i feel the need to take a picture of myself in the bathroom mirror, i am likely far too drunk to pay attention to what i look like.

anyway, considering that i haven't been out drinking in months, coupled with the fact that i will be lucky if i sleep for an hour...
yeah.
it should be an interesting day.

i'd better go plug my camera in...
i wouldn't want to deprive you guys of the horror that will be me roaming the streets of detroit tomorrow.

sigh.

p.s.

i'll be missing my girls!

that's right. you know who you are. and if you weren't busy 1 )creating new life or 2) having a real grown-up girl job in arizona? you'd be in bg trouble. that's all i'm saying.

in which i was almost sorry

2007-03-29T22:59:00.000-04:00

so, the other day, i wrote this post, about the ridiculousness going on with the whole U.S. attorney firing scandal in which i called out/made fun of/expressed my pure hatred for tony snow.
and, wouldn't you know it? like, three days later, he had to come down with cancer.
and i really felt bad for a minute.
i mean...
maybe i've led a fortunate life...
but i have never hated someone enough that i would wish cancer upon them.
i'm a horrendous bitch, sure. but even i am not that heinous.

but, here's the deal:
i still don't wish cancer upon the man. i don't wish him or his family any of the physical or emotional pain that comes with it.

but, i have to say this...
when i hear that tony snow is taking time off because a malignant mass was found in his stomach?
my first thought is, how many lies do you think you can swallow, how many times can you stand in front of the public and perpetrate those lies, before you make yourself physically ill?

now, of course, i am no scientist.
i am in no way advocating the position that people get cancer because they deserve it--clearly, that just is not the case.

but maybe it is possible that certain lifestyles are poisonous.
i don't know.
but, seeing as how i get a nauseated every time i hear this man speak, it doesn't surprise me a bit that he's come down with a stomach tumor.

i was going to write a really detailed post here, with many examples of tony snow blatantly lying to the american people.
at this point, i'd rather get to bed, so i'll leave you with one (slightly funny) example.

one of the many things that tony snow likes to talk about in an attempt to give me a stroke is his belief that evolution is just a wacky theory made by mad-scientist lunatics, with absolutely no evidence to back it up.
his favorite criticism is to point out, when advocating 'intelligent design,' that the theory of evolution is based mainly on the idea of 'missing links,' rather than actual links that can be seen, examined, and discussed in a real way.

and, people? i really wish i possessed the follow through to write an actual post, with actual quotes and research...i simply don't feel like it. however, you can google 'tony snow and evolution' and very quickly come up with all sorts of quotes, should you so desire.

instead of doing all that actual compelling and well supported writing, i'd rather just provide the 'missing link.'

mr. snow?
here, just for you, i will reveal to the internet the 'missing link' that you've been so concerned with.

i hope you feel better soon.
i hope you overcome the cancer: the one in your stomach, and the one you've chosen to defend until now.

another letter again. or, another another letter. whichever you prefer.

2007-03-28T00:55:00.000-04:00

to: the higher powers of the internet
re: the apparently wasted $166 that i sent into the abyss of you
from: tiffany

dear higher powers of the internet, thou who sittest upon high to the sounds of an angel choir, somewhere in some kind of ethernet port, laughing at the stupidity of the masses:

what.
the.
fuck.

yes, that is the most eloquent sentence i can come up with.
and don't even get mad at me about it, because i've seen way worse things going on in your kingdom, if you know what i mean.

anyway, i would like to issue a formal complaint.

i recently purchased something called professional web hosting.
i did not really know what that was, but it came with a free domain name, and i think it meant that i was going to be able to upload a a 'theme' of my choosing, and then start blogging over there, much in the fashion of a cool and internet savvy type of girl.

but you decided to take a big fat shit all over my plans.

why, high lords of the internet?
why, when i worship you daily, as i do?

why would you make it impossible for me to upload my theme?
why would you let me log-in to my blue host control panel, and then try to pretend that i don't exist when i click on the ftp manager?
and how did you convince my cyberduck to join in your cruel games?

i really liked my cyberduck, you know.
i thought he was very cute, and then you came and turned him against me.

i also do not appreciate the cronies that you have working for you.
who do you think you are, george w?

i called the 24 hour 'support' that i have paid $166 dollars for, and a guy who sounded EXACTLY like napoleon dynamite told me well, i've never heard of that happening before.
so i guess that means everything is fine.
you know, except for the fact that i'm out $166, but i'm still blogging at blogger.com.

still, mightly lords of internet-ness, i know there is one thing you are good for, and that is getting the word out.
here is the word:
HELP!!!

i'll be waiting right here for your answer.

most sincerliestly yours, or whatever,
tiffany

p.s. again

2007-03-26T09:55:00.000-04:00

no, i cannot use photoshop any better than that.
stop laughing at me.
i was so proud, just that i got the picture to be the right height and width and whatnot!

also, there is very little hope of my skills improving much.
john brought photoshop over, set it up on my computer, and taught me how to re-size pictures to fit on my blog.
which i sort-of forgot how to do right after he left.
the next day, i called him up and said:
i'd really like to be able to edit weird light out of people's eyes in some of my pictures, is this something that's possible?
to which he replied:
well, it's not impossible, technically. but no, i can't teach you to do that.

my first instinct was to be irritated, but then i remembered that it must be very difficult to be john: i ask him to teach me how to do stuff all the time, and if i don't understand it in the first 30 seconds of his explanation, my brain stops listening. i don't do it on purpose...it's just that, in my head, his words start to sound like this: lala, something. lalalalalala. christ, he's talking a lot. dodooododooodo. damn, bill maher is going to start in 5 minutes. lala. i'm hungry. la.
then, when he's done talking, i'm just giving him this totally blank look and he probably wants to stab himself in the eardrum.
it's not his fault.
my brain does the same thing when confronted with any scenario that it doesn't immediately understand.
which explains why i've never been able to do math, but i digress.

the point is, there is little hope for me and my photoshopping skills.
so, if you were going to point out this, that, or what-have-you technical term about how i improve that picture?
i do appreciate the gesture, but you should know, in advance, that i will likely have no clue what you are talking about.
you might as well just do it for me, and then send it back to me.
(jen, i'm talking to you).

p.s.

2007-03-26T04:27:00.000-04:00

speaking of books...

remember how i told you i was working on moving to a new blog, with a new design and everything?

well, that right there is as far as i've gotten.
that picture will (hopefully) one day serve as the header-picture-thing-thing on my new blog.
my new blog, which has it's own server space and it's own official domain name, but which i cannot seem to work.
at all.

so, there you go.
an update of sorts.

hopefully i'll have more on this breaking news situation in the somewhat near future.

a letter

2007-03-26T04:08:00.000-04:00

dear internet:

did you know that there are these things called books?
they are made of paper, mostly.
they have many, many pages of words that you can read without sitting at your computer.
you can even read them in bed, all snuggled in with your blankets, which is what i have been doing instead of talking to you.

mainly, it's been these two.

i'm sure i'll become bored with them tomorrow, and then i shall return to you.

love,
tiffany

same old ass hat, different day.

2007-03-21T20:14:00.000-04:00

(alternate title: the complete idiot's guide to the great bush/gonzales/miers/rove/snow scandal of 2007)

so, kids...
it's about that time, for me to perform my wtb!? administratorly duties by posting my own tirade about an 'ass hat in the news.'

(hee! jen rules at making these things!)

***[public service announcement interlude] any of you who don't know what wtb!? is? you should go here. no, really. right now! go! if you know what wtb!? is, but aren't a member yet, but are thinking about becoming a member, you should DEFINITELY just decide to become a member, and go here to sign up. if you know what wtb!? is, and you're already a member, but you're not participating in our bi-weekly ass hat adventures? SHAME ON YOU! go here immediately and sign up to participate in this week's adventure. all you have to do is write a post--with no length requirements--about some sort of ass-hattedness you have witnessed in the news in recent weeks. that really is all there is to it! for a more specific tutorial on ass-hattedness, please see here. oh, and--last, but not least--if you want to see the winners of our last contest, please click here. that is all i have for you at this time. [/public service announcement interlude]***

so, try as i might to come up with a different ass hat who was ass-hatty enough to inspire me to turn away from the quality programming on my television tonight (read: jericho, america's next top model, american idol, and top design) and into any kind of entry writing, alas, i find myself being irritated by the same guy--who is ALWAYS in the news--over and over again.

it's the same old song and dance, you know?
a classic case of same ass hat, different day.

same old ass hat, yes.
but! now with added bonus ass hats!

wait...
what's that you say?
you're bored with all this political he said/she said hullaballoo? you've grown sick of watching the news?

i don't blame you one bit...
but, humor me on this one, and allow me to give you a VERY abridged version of one of the biggest stories in the news these days. as an extra added treat, i'll even tell you what you should think about it when i'm done!

you are so lucky!

***[disclaimer]there are many viewpoints and arguments that could be made in this case. i am going to speak from the viewpoint of an average person who knows only an average amount about this case. however, if i say here that someone said something, it will be true--at least that they said it. if you interpret it in a different way than i did, then you're obviously not as smart as me, and that's no one's fault but your own. i'm kidding.[/disclaimer]***

cast:
[Wik]

there's our esteemed president, of course.
next up is this dude.

his name is alberto gonzales, and he is the attorney general of the united states of america.
i think that basically means that he's, like, the boss-man of all the lawyers who work for the government in the whole country.
like, you know, if you break your leg because you slipped on a wet floor at the grocery store and you hire a personal injury lawyer? we're not talking about that guy. we're talking about the district attorneys and whatnot.
so, yeah. he is the boss-man of all of those people, and george w. is his boss.

****
george w. also gave him his job...

...but, this isn't the place to make any commentary on that. especially because i don't know if the things stated in that cartoon are true. i just know i think it's funny.
****

also starring are:
[Alsø wik]

harriet miers

and karl rove

they are two of the president's 'top aides.' (read: bffs)

and then, of course, there's tony snow.
[Alsø alsø wik]

he is the white house press secretary. aka, the guy they send out to tell lies for them every day. who is also a guy that i really hate.
[Wi nøt trei a høliday in Sweden this yër?]

****
i'm sorry, but i enjoyed my lies much more when they came from the mouth of this guy

oh, ari! why be-est thou so gone from me? you were a lying little devil and, still, i loved you. please hit this tony snow schmuck upside the noggin with a blunt object and return to me. ahem. what? oh, yes. back to the real story.
****

anyhow, i guess what happened was that alberto gonzales fired a bunch (around 8, i think) of US attorneys.
which, in and of itself, is no big deal.

the problem was that a large number (maybe 4?) of these fired attorneys were actively involved in cases against republicans in various standings throughout the nation, and since democrats are always on the look out for naughty republicans (and vice versa), of course it was brought up as an issue.

boring so far, yes?

so, anyway.
then some other stuff happened while it was all still boring and blah blah blah, whatever.

but, then!
forty million emails came to the surface!
emails that were going back and forth between the people who were to fire the people who were to be fired, giving them advice about how to be sneaky and answer questions about the firings in at least moderately deceitful ways.
[also starring 40 specially trained equadorian mountain llamas, with the help of ralph the wonder llama, and terrry gilliam]
i know, it's still boring.

but, then!
there was a gap in the emails!
missing emails!

and the congress started to go nutso, and they wanted karl rove and harriet miers to testify under oath that albereto gonzales wasn't ordered to fire all of those attorneys based on the personal politics of those attorneys.

still bored?

i'll get to the point.

the thing is, the attorney general and the president are allowed to fire any number of these attorneys, at any time, for absolutely any reason they see fit.
i don't know if that's a good thing--in this case, for example, where it certainly appears that some of these people were fired because they failed to play along with the president's politics...it seems like maybe it's not-so-great--but, regardless, it is the law.

were it to be proven that the president ordered gonzales to fire those attorneys in order to put a stop to the cases they were working against his fellow republicans...well, we might not like it, but there would be absolutely nothing illegal about it.

the problem is the lying and the missing emails and the refusal to testify and all those other shenanigans; the problem is throwing up the shield of executive privilege.

the whole thing leaves a very bad taste in my mouth.
like nyquil. mixed with 3 week old milk. and bat shit.
****

see, when the president stands in front of the nation, like he did today, and belittles the congress for thinking about issuing subpeonas to rove and miers...i can't help but think of the patriot act.

good americans have no reason to have a problem with the patriot act, right?
if you don't have anything to hide, you have no reason to be afraid that the government can get all up in your personal shit at any old time they please.

so why should georgie take such outrage in the idea of congress issuing subpeonas to his aides?
it doesn't add up.
****

but, perhaps i'm getting ahead of myself here.
the thing is, i'm sick of the president talking to me like i'm an idiot.
i'm sick of being spoon fed omissions, misleading statements, and flat-out lies, as if the president and his administration think i'm too stupid to notice the words coming out of their mouths.

and, you know?
i wish that wasn't the case.

they should be smarter than me, no?
they should be able to lie to me much better than this.
but they don't even respect me, or the rest of the american people, enough to be bothered to try to tell a good lie.

it's infuriating.
****

today, when asked: "Mr. President, are you still completely convinced that the administration did not exert any political pressure in the firing of these attorneys?"
george answered: "there is no indication that anybody did anything improper."

(full transcript available here.)

ummm, there is no indication that anybody did anything improper?
is that like, i did not have sex with that woman?
george may as well have said: "well, i know exactly what happened. and i know a lot of people probably wouldn't like it. fortunately for me, i don't think you guys have enough evidence to prove that anything happened...there is simply 'no indication that anybody did anything improper.' you know, except for the fact that i know they did."
****

still, i think my favorite example of the administration thinking we're all idiots came today, during tony snow's bullshit--oh, excuse me...i meant to say, during tony snow's PRESS release.
yes, that's it.
anyway, it was when i saw this little nugget of conversation that i started to get really pissed...

Q: There is one email from November 15th from Mr. Sampson to Harriet Miers, I believe, "Who will determine whether this requires the President's attention?"

MR. SNOW: Right.

Q: And then there's a gap in emails. Was there any -- perhaps any emails about the President in there? And did the President have to sign off on this? Because the question was raised --

MR. SNOW: The President has no recollection of this ever being raised with him.

the president has no recollection?

hmmm.

because, i'm thinking that if the president wasn't involved, he would be able to say with confidence that no, the issue was never raised with him.

in my opinion, mr. snow's response means nothing other than: i'm not telling you shit until you can prove it for your own damn self. and, when you do? you won't be able to say we lied, because all i've said here is that he doesn't 'recollect' being involved.

sweet christ on a cracker, if only bill clinton had thought to assert that he didn't recollect getting a blowjob from monica lewinsky...we all could have saved ourselves a lot of grief.

oh...
and speaking of bill's blowjob,
you might be interested to hear what tony snow had to say about it at the time.
remember how clinton tried to invoke executive privelege, so that his aides wouldn't have to testify about his relationship with monica?
well, here's what tony snow had to say about that effort, at the time.

when asked about the validity of invoking executive privilege, he said (and, i quote):

"Taken to its logical extreme, that position would make it impossible for citizens to hold a chief executive accountable for anything. He would have a constitutional right to cover up."

!!!DING DING DING DING DING!!!

congratulations, mr. snow!
you've won yourself a big fat slice of hypocrosy pie.
yummy!

still, feeding off the hypocrosy pie doesn't faze our press secretary...earlier today, when a reporter questioned him about his former assertions, the conversation went like this:

REPORTER: Tony, back when President Clinton was citing executive privilege to keep internal deliberations in that White House from being talked about in Congress, you wrote — now famously — that taken

SNOW: I didn’t know it was famous. It didn’t that kind of coverage at the time.

REPORTER: It’s become more famous.

SNOW: Is it making its way through the left-wing blogs?

REPORTER: But you wrote quite eloquently about this. You said, “Taken to its logical extreme, that position would make it impossible for citizens to hold a chief executive accountable. He would have a constitutional right to cover up.” So why were you wrong then and right now?

SNOW: Because you’re — this is not an entirely analogous situation. I just told you what we have in fact offered to make available to Members of Congress. What we’re doing is we are holding apart confidential communications between advisers and the President. And that is pretty standard practice in the White House.

REPORTER: But in the Clinton administration –

SNOW: I’m not so sure. I’ll let others do the legal arguing on that.
****

dude.
did he have to rip on blogs, too?
it's just too much.
****

still, i think my biggest problem--once again--stems from my problem with george and his religion, and the way he sort of forces it upon all of us,
(ie, saying things like 'i believe god wants me to be president,' or 'i don't know if atheists should be considered as citizens, nor should they be considered patriots. this is one nation under god.' even though there is supposed to be a separation of church and state; even though we have a right to religious freedom)
i know it seems like i'm going way off topic here, but i promise i'm not. just stick with me for a second.

the thing is, i think i learned a long time ago that, in the eyes of god, no one sin is greater than another. a sin is a sin is a sin is a sin, or whatever.

so why should george and his crew think that what they are doing is ok?

why should they not be held responsible?

i mean, personally? i think the whole idea is a pile of crap. i think george is far more likely to go to hell for telling a lie about there being weapons of mass destruction in iraq, for scaring the living b. jeezuz out of a nation already scared out of their minds in order to gain our support for a war during which thousand of lives would be lost than i am for lying and telling my boss that i was late for work because i got pulled over on the way, when the truth was that i was just reading blogs instead of putting on make-up, and so i ended up leaving the house late.

but, clearly, george is very interested in following THE WORD, rather than THE IDEA.

why should they not have to play by the rules of the god that they try to force upon all of us--upon our bodies, with laws about abortion and stem cell research; upon our hearts, with legislation about gay marriage; upon all of us, even though we are all individuals with our own religious (or non-religious) ideals?

how can he pick and choose?
how can he think that what he's doing is any better than bill's blowjob?

i have to go to bed now, but in case there's any confusion...

i'm calling ass hat.
i'm calling ass hat on the whole lot of them.

and i hope with my whole heart that they will finally be held responsible for something.

because, the american people?
we can be a little dense.
but we deserve far more respect than we're getting from george and his bffs.

p.s.
i'm not at all sure that i spelled subpeona correctly at any point in the above post. in fact, i'm rather sure that i did not spell it correctly. but, see how it says this was posted at 8pm or something? that's bullshit. i started writing this around then, but it's now 4am. granted, i watched a lot of t.v. while i was writing this. i wasted valuable time i could have spent looking up the word subpeona in the dictionary.
too effing bad.
i'm tired, and i have an appointment at 8am.

peace out, ya'll.

edited to add: damn! i couldn't help myself, and i just realized that i quite nearly spelled it right! i would have rather been way off, then be only slightly off, you know? anyway, i'm going to leave it. because i'm not a perfect person. there's many things i wish i didn't do, but i continue learning. oh, jeez. i don't even like that song. clearly i am suffering from exhaustion.
goodnight, sweethearts.

what's this? a blog? hmmmm.

2007-03-20T00:07:00.000-04:00

so.

i can't even tell you how many times i've visited my blog since thursday and wanted to smack myself across the face.
i wanted to smack my damn self across the face so bad, i couldn't bring myself to type anything new.

and that was sad, not just because it's not a good feeling to want to smack your damn self in the face, but because until thursday, i almost had a blog entry for every day of the month.
i was damn proud of that.

but then i had to go and talk about my feelings. and also, my fat rolls.
blah.

i comforted myself in the knowledge the st. patrick's day was rapidly approaching.
i mean, surely i would bear witness to some completely ridiculous happenings, which i could happily report back to you.
i expected a virtual fount of blog fodder.

what i got was a completely normal weekend populated with completely normal people.

wtf?

that isn't too say that we weren't busy.
we were.
it's just that nothing went wrong.
people weren't even being assholes!

i really do not know what this world is coming to, when you can't even count on bartending on st. patrick's day to offer up a few blogable stories.

***

i do, however, have some picures of how cute we looked while bartending on st. patrick's day.
you guys are so lucky.

this was taken right as we were opening, at about 9 am, which is long before any of us would EVER like to be awake.
i think we look alright, all things considered.
oh, in case you're not familiar, that's b.g. on the left, then timmer, then my sister b.j., and then me.
and b.g. would probably like me to make sure you all know that she is not 'tubby,' as she calls it, she is pregnant.

and, for a girl who's 7 months pregnant?

i think she looks pretty damn amazing.
i'm loving the shamrock sticker on her bellybutton...
she is totally rocking the belly.

***

in other belly news, i felt the baby kick for the first time on friday night.
it was so amazing, i almost started crying in the middle of our local outback steakhouse.

*confessions of a fat-ass interlude*
yes, we went to dinner at outback, even though i had just written two huge entries about how much i hate my stupid fat self. but, you know. b.g. is eating for two, and far be it from me to deny a pregnant girl! anyway, the actual eating of the dinner ended up not counting, because i threw up about two minutes after dinner. no, not on purpose! i think i just ate WAY TOO MUCH. in my defense, i hadn't been to outback in, like, two years. so i really wanted to try a little bit of all my favorite things. my favorite things at outback include: sharing aussie cheese fries with the table, bowl of french onion soup topped with stinky but delicious cheese, sharing a salad with my sister, and prime rib with a baked potato. I KNOW. i figured i would just take a few bites of everything, and take the leftovers home to eat after work the next day. and i really did only eat a few bites of everything...i think it was just that 'everything' that i took a few bites of was super rich, or something. and the delicious espresso martini that was covered in a really thick (but delicious) cream? yeah. that probably didn't help. in fact, it was the first thing that came up--which seemed bizarre, since it was the first thing i put in my belly. and aren't you all just so glad that i told you that? you know you love me because i'm disgusting. anyway, it was terrible because it was one of those scary thow-ups, where all of the sudden your mouth starts watering uncontrollably and you quickly come to the sad realization that you are in a public place and the bathroom is a VERY far away. anyway, i did make it to the bathroom, and in an amazing stroke of luck my sister was already in there and she went to get me some water. and, when i got back to the table? i totally ordered dessert to go. i mean, at that point i totally had room for more calories. actually, that dessert is still upstairs in the fridge as we speak. i wonder if it's still there...
*end confessions of a fat-ass interlude*

anyway, we were about to leave, and we'd been talking about b.g.s belly through pretty much the entire dinner.
i decided that i just couldn't go home that night without feeling a kick of some sort, so as we were getting up, i totally accosted my best friend's belly.
i just pressed on it as hard as i could, and sure enough, i pissed the baby off and it tried to kick me away.

it ruled.
i totally wasn't prepared for how amazing it would feel to physically interact with that baby for the first time.

i can't wait until she shows up.
(snif, snif)

***

anyway, back to st. patrick's day.
i do have one slightly ass-hattish story to share:

it was getting toward the end of my shift, and i walked up to three guys who had just come up to the bar.
it appeared that two of them were together, while the other guy was by his random self and talking animatedly on his cell phone.
i walked up to the two guys, and began the process of getting them whatever the hell it was that they wanted.

i wish you could have seen the reaction of the guy on the cell phone.
he was simply INFURIATED that i was helping these other guys before i was helping him.

as soon as i directed my attention toward the other two guys, the cell phone guy melted into a pool of twitchy fury. he was gesturing, huffing, throwing his arms about and making faces at me that looked like this:

now, it is possible that cell phone guy was there first.
but, if he was there first, it was only by 20 seconds or so.
20 seconds does not equal a big deal, in my book.

after another 20 seconds, i was nearly done taking care of the other two guys, and the cell phone guy hung up his phone and gestured wildly for my boss, who came over and asked him if there was a problem.
the cell phone guy said yeah, i've been waiting for, like, an hour. can i get a fucking beer or what?

as i turned away to put the other two guys' tip into our tip jar, my boss said don't worry, i just let him in the front door three minutes ago. i know he hasn't been waiting long. he's a dick, but just go see what he wants.

so, i walked up to the cell phone guy and said:
sir, just so you know? i wasn't ignoring you, i was trying to do you a favor by not bothering you when you were obviously in a heated discussion on your cell phone. and my boss said he just let you in the front door 4 minutes ago, so i think it worked out ok. 4 minutes is not too long to wait for a beer on st. patrick's day.

then he rolled his eyes at me and said: whatever. get my fucking beer.

and i said: no, i don't think i will. and walked away.
because, fuck that asshole.

***

but, yeah.
you can see how sad it is, when that's the best story i can come up with after a weekend of working in a sportsbar when march madness and st. patrick's day were in full swing.

here is what i looked like when i got home:

and here is what i looked like 5 minutes after that, as i enjoyed a piece of pizza:

i hope you all had a good weekend and, for the sake of the internet, i hope some interesting shit happens to me in the very near future.

sigh.

updatey

2007-03-15T23:41:00.000-04:00

so, um...
hi!

how's everyone doing?

i guess this is the part where i'm supposed to thank everyone for their kind and supportive comments.
while i'm at it, i'd like to thank anyone who stopped by and thought i was a) fat, b) ugly, c) stupid, d) self-obsessed, or e) all of the above, but managed to control their urge to leave a comment along the lines of get a grip, woman! there are starving children in the world, who are dying of aids and avian bird flu, and here you are taking up all the taco bell and then complaining that you have too much to eat! sheesh!

it should be noted that i do realize how insignificant my little problem is in the grand scheme of the world...but, at the same time? if i continue to let myself live in a way that makes me miserable on a daily basis--if i continue to live in a way that forces me do confront self hatred every single day--what kind of positive effect can i hope to have on the world around me, from my close friends and family, out into the blogosphere, and beyond?

so, i guess it is kind of important.
self-obsessed, but important.

anyhow, bonus thanks to my girls 'tall one' and 'b.g.' who have regularly had to deal with me when i'm in an inconsolably bitchy mood because i feel fat.
oh, and bonus thanks to all the people who called me pretty.
and the people who said they liked my hair.
you know, i'll actually accept that compliment.
i'm a pretty big fan of my hair.

****

that problem is, i often catch myself thinking:
thank you little baby Jesus, who's sittin' in his crib watchin the Baby Einstein videos, learnin' 'bout shapes and colors...
thank you sweet baby jesus, for giving me this hair, because if i didn't have this great hair i would have to shoot myself in the face and call it a day.

of course, i would never actually shoot myself in the face.
i'm very afraid of guns.
(and matches, and scary movies, and airplanes, and fish, and tornadoes, and driving on the highway, and ghosts, and bugs, and...)
but, anyway. you get the point.

****

i really don't want to underestimate how much it means, that some of you shared that you sometimes feel the same way that i do.
i mean, it doesn't make any pounds spontaneously fly off of my body. it doesn't change anything at all...but the whole thing feels a little better--having finally admitted how much i'm struggling with this, and learning that there are people here with me.
misery loves company, i guess.

to that end, i really must recommend that everyone go become a regular reader of Y's blog, joy unexpected. seriously, if you are one of the commenters who felt like you knew exactly what i was talking about yesterday, YOU. MUST. READ. Y.
she isn't afraid to talk about this stuff, and she does it in the most amazing way. i can't even describe it. she's just so...real.
i know, that was a horrible cop-out of a description.
so, how about you just go check her out, and then you can see what she's like for your damn self.
if you don't feel like fishing for my links in the section above, click here, and you'll be taken to all of her posts that fall in the category of 'body image.'
except, it looks like she hasn't updated the categories recently, so you should really visit each of the first links and check out the stuff she's written more recently, because it's really good.
actually, i take that back.
the whole entire blog, every single word of it, is awesome.
you should read the entire thing, regardless of the state of you personal body image issues.

this has been a public service announcement, brought to you by the letter 'f.'

'f,' for fat.

****

i thought i should give you a little update, to let you know that i worked out yesterday and today.
yesterday, i ruled.
i worked out for 70 minutes. i actually got, you know, sweaty.
today i only worked out for 20 minutes when i got home from work, but i was on my feet running around waiting on people for 6 hours today, so i decided that had to be worth something.*

before you get too proud of me, i should also confess that i ate another mexican pizza from taco bell today.
i did throw it away when half of it was still left...
i guess it's all about the baby steps.
i couldn't stop myself from going to taco bell, but i could stop myself from eating all of it.

edited to add: i was all excited because i was going to tell you that there has been a box of girl scout cookies sitting right next to me for the past 2 hours, and i didn't even eat a single one. except, while i was waiting for my picture to upload...i caved. sigh.

****

so, yeah.
i guess that's all i have for you at this time.
to recap: thank you, i have pretty hair, i'm scared of a lot of things, i worked out twice, and you should go read Y's blog.

in the meantime, i'd like to take a moment to reflect on the good ol' days, before it had ever occurred to me that i should suck my stomach in:

that?
is not a girl with body image issues.

*don't worry, this blog isn't going to become a workout log. in fact, it creeps me out when i read about how many minutes someone worked out for, and it creeps me out to give you a detailed accounting of how much time i spent moving my body around today. but i figured that i can't very well write a post like the one i did yesterday and then not say anything about it. so, i'm saying something now, and i'm going to give an accounting of my workout progress every once in a while, for the benefit of those who might be trying to get into shape, too. strength in numbers, and all that. anyway, the point is, i promise i'm not going to start telling you how many calories i've ingested and how much water i've drank and all that.
ok?
ok.

i'm putting my foot down...

2007-03-15T00:53:00.000-04:00

...and more body parts than i'd care to admit are jiggling from the sudden impact.

no, really.
it's true.

please witness the following progression of my fat-assedness:

this is me--about 6 years ago, i think--with an old boyfriend (who reads this blog, actually...everyone say 'hi, dan!') after i ran an experiment in anorexia for a couple of months. to this day, i have no idea how i did it. i know that i could never do it again, and i know that were it not for this picture, i would never remember how ABSOLUTELY EFFING SKINNY my face was, but i will never forget how sick i was, after all the not-eating caught up to me.
anyway, blah blah blah, here's the picture:

oh, and here's what the rest of my body looked like at the time...

so, there's that.
that was probably the skinniest i've ever been in my life.

when i began to recover, i looked like this:

see? the face is a little different. i wouldn't call it fat...but it definitely looks different than the first picture.
and, by the by, that's my friend april in that picture, who i haven't seen in about four years. i'm under the impression that she lives in texas somewhere. has anyone seen her?

here's another example of how i looked at a 'normal' weight:

that was me and my two cousins after we won the 'snowbowl'--a family football game that we play before thanksgiving dinner every year in park city.

and this is what i looked like in a bathing suit, with my friend sweeney attempting to snack on my left boob:

(dude, don't make that face. my boobs ARE very snackable. or so i hear. although, as we trek onward through the depths of this progression of fat-assedness...they do beome more like *meals* than *snacks.* hell, i've had days where i felt i was carting around enough boob to feed the third world. but...maybe less talk about the boobs is a good thing. ahem.)

now, i know that most people will think that picture is disgusting. but, to me? i would give anything to look like that again. and, more importantly, i would give anyting to have been able to appreciate myself when i did look like that. i mean, could i have benefitted from a few (hundred) crunches every morning? certainly. but i thought i was ugly and fat then, and i wasn't.
i love that picture--i really do.
i just look so...happy.
i must have been drunk to be acting so free with my belly, but really?
what the fuck?
i'd kill to have that body back.
and, in that picture? i think i look like someone who feels comfortable, and that's a feeling i haven't felt nearly enough in this lifetime.

why, you ask?
because by new year's eve last year (when it turned 2006) i was on a FREE TRIP (to VEGAS, with 75 thousand of my family members, to celebrate my grandpa's 80th birthday) with john, and this was the most comfortable i could look:

don't worry...it doesn't make you a bad person if you're thinking oh my goodness, what happened to her?
it was a very drastic change, that took place not-so-drastically.
it was a million little stresses (and one really big one) that helped me put on weight.
but, just in case the difference wasn't clear enough, take a peek at this close up:

all i'm trying to say is, isn't it clear that this isn't what i'm supposed to look like?
i don't blame you if you're all:

because i feel the exact same way.

(although, i do think it's worth mentioning that even my yucky fat pumpkin face comes with a crown. and a feather boa. because you can only stifle fabulous so much, you know?)

anyway, after that trip--where i should have been at my most fabulous, i tried to put my foot down.
it wasn't a complete failure, as today i look like this:

so, i think i might look a TEENY bit better than i did then, but it's hard to say.
i mean, all of the pictures that i post on this blog--if i say i took them right when i was blogging--that's absolutely the truth. but, it must be considered that i'm taking those pictures myself.
you know, my profile picture is only 4 days old, and i don't think i look like an obese monster in it...but, i took it myself (read: sat at an appropriate angle in front of my computer).
at any rate, i think i weigh at least slightly less than i did in those horrible vegas photos...
but that's really not the point.

i lost (some of) that weight pretty much as soon as we got back from vegas, by working out, and going on the south beach diet. (evidence is chronicled here, here, and here. the relative failure of the plan is discussed here, in case you're interested in that sort of thing.)

pictorial evidence of the (at least somewhat) drastic change that i made in the 2 months between horrible-fat-ass-vegas-adventure and kick-ass-spring-break with my girls can be seen...oh, fuck it.
i was going to make a link, but there are already 6 frillion pictures of me in this entry, so, what the hell?

two months after fat-ass-vegas adventure, i looked like this:

and, you know?
i was proud of that.
i didn't feel great...but i felt ok.
looking back, i feel like it was a really amazing change for such a short amount of time.

but, since that trip?
i've only put weight on.
and on, and on, and on.

i didn't feel comfortable for one single second through all of last summer.
screw a tank top...
i didn't even want to wear a short sleeved shirt.
and EVERY SINGLE DAY i woke up pissed off at myself.
do you know how that feels?
to wake up and hate yourself every single day?
i know there are some of you out there who feel me...
it's terrible.
it's so terrible, that i can't even spend the time to think of a better word for how terrible it is...
i just don't want to think about it anymore.

but, i have to think about it.
now, more than ever.

this whole winter, i kept telling myself i was going to work out.
i was going to get my shit under control; i was going to use the 5 months of frigid weather to my advantage; i was going to excercise myself into oblivion.
i was going to become the kind of healthy that had no need for the south beach diet.

****

on monday, it was like 35 degrees or something in michigan.

on tuesday, it got up to 75.

nothing says
hey fat-ass...weren't you supposed to start working out 4 months ago?
like that kind of sudden change in the weather.

to be honest, i don't want to be writing this post.
i don't want to talk to you about how much the way i look bothers me.
i don't want to talk about how i prefer to not do anything that requires leaving the house on my days off because i can't stand the thought of taking a shower and spending all that time blow-drying my hair, and putting on make-up, and curling and/or straightening hair, and picking out clothes, all the while knowing that no amount of prep i can do will make me feel like i look decent enough to leave the house.

does that sound overdramatic?
of course it does. and, really? i don't want to disappoint you--i come off as so bitchy, so above taking other people's shit.
but, i'm not.
and i take more of my own shit than anyone else could ever possibly hand me.

the thing is, if i can write to you about boones that smell like rotting roadkill, and about my feelings about 9/11, and about my father's death...
i don't know, i feel like at some point i can start telling you the truth about my everyday life, which is this:

i need to lose weight, and i think about this every single second of every single day.
often times, i think about it as i enjoy a mexican pizza from taco bell.
(in fact, i was enjoying a mexican pizza as a began writng this post. but don't tell anyone, ok?)

of course i realize that 90% of people reading this will think 'ok, then get started!

but i know, having been inspired by y's post, and the comments that follow, that there are plenty of people out there who know how i feel.

still, it's not for them that i write this post.

it's for me.

i need to admit this: that i am not happy, and that this thing is bothering me so much that i wish i didn't have to leave the house.
i mean, that's a problem, right?

i refuse to live through another summer where i'm ashamed to wear a short sleeved shirt.
it's entirely possible that i'll never wear a bikini again--but, you know what? that's ok.

but i'm putting my foot down...booty shaking in the aftermath and all...
at the thought of dreading wearing a short sleeved shirt.

i simply cannot put myself through this again.
i'm not morbidly obese...
it can't possibly be that difficult.

all i ask of you is this:

i'm not sharing this because i want you to tell me that i'm pretty.
i know that to do so will be the first instinct of many of you, and if you can't keep it in check, that's ok. i mean, i'm not going to turn down a compliment.
but, you need to understand that you don't REALLY know what i look like.
sure, you've seen recent photos.

you want one from right this very second?

there you go, courtesy of my pretty i-mac. which is much skinnier than i am.

at any rate...
the point of this whole thing is that i just needed to tell someone.
so, i told all of you.
now, i can't pretend like everything's okay.

everything is not okay.
i just need everyone to know that, because obviously i need to be accountable to someone other than myself.
left to my own devices, i will eat mexican pizza and baked potatoes with cheese and brocolli and sour cream and fried mushrooms--omg, fried mushrooms, they are sooooooo good--into oblivion.

so, all i can say is, if you're still reading after all this...
thanks.
i promise i'll be back tomorrow evening with a funny or bitchy story of some sort.
i just needed to get this out, and i thank you from the bottom-most of my fat rolls for listening.

seriously.

biding time

2007-03-13T03:15:00.000-04:00

hello, internet!
i was thinking about writing a post about ann coulter tonight, along with various other things that i find undesirable, but i got sidetracked.
looking back, i have zero idea what i was doing instead. i only know that it is 3:20am, and i haven't done anything.
at any rate, i'm going to have to put that off until tomorrow, as it's far too late to think in too much detail.

in the meantime, there is a little business that needs to be taken care of.
some of you may have noticed that john* made a little appearance in the comments of my last post, in which he questioned the veracity of my narrative reconstruction of the previous night's events.

(no, i have no idea why i just started writing that way for a second. but, it seems to be over now. thank god.)

anyway, in the interest of absolute truth, i thought i would share the i-chat we had over our computers tonight, in which the discrepancies were discussed.

~as you join our heroine, she is badgering her boyfriend to read her damn blog already~

tiffany: are you going to read it know?
tiffany: now
tiffany: i hate it when i do that
john: know
tiffany: no?
john: no
tiffany: go their!
tiffany: they're
tiffany: haha. i think i'm funny
john: yes you do
tiffany: i think it's a good thing. if the whole world is destroyed and i have to hang out by myself for the rest of forever, it will be all good, because i can entertain myself.

computer chat silence ensues for about 10 minutes

john: that sounds fun
tiffany: it would be more fun than i-chatting with you, slow-ass.
john: i was reading your blog, bosy
tiffany: what is a 'bosy'?
john: bossy
tiffany: ha
tiffany: so did you likey it?
john: it was innacurate and i left a comment to that effect
tiffany: what!!!???
tiffany: it was not...i wrote it down! right when it happened!

~i go to my blog and read john's comment~

john:a few parts were not as i remember
tiffany: haha...your comment is funny.
tiffany: and i did call you a dickhole. but you're right, i did say 'rotting roadkill' and i didn't post it that way because i was trying to protect the internet
john: okay
tiffany: i struggled with that...
tiffany: but then i thought...
tiffany: does the internet need to know that my boones smell THAT bad?
tiffany: but now you've outed me.
john: it's funny as rotting roadkill
john: funnier
tiffany: dickhole
john: that's what i'm here for
tiffany: ah...i was wondering what the point of you was.

*you might have also noticed that john comments as 'batman,' even though i use his real name on here all the time. i think he has a superhero problem of some kind.

easy like sunday morning.

2007-03-11T17:32:00.000-04:00

john and i had to close the bar last night. it was decently busy, so we didn't get done until about 10 after 3, and the late hour was complicated by the fact that john had to get up and open the next morning, and an hour of sleep was immediately thrown out the window because of the daylight savings time hoopla.

unfortunately, john and i were so tired we became hysterical before we went to sleep.
it was 5am, and we were laying in bed giggling uncontrollably--it reminded me of when i'm on vacation with this girl, or this girl, and we come home from the bar in a drunken fit of giggling at things that really aren't funny, and we laugh until our sides ache in a seriously painful way, and one of us may think she's going to pee herself. and then we have to take really deep breaths to get ourselves under control and then we're like ok, ok. we have to go to sleep! and then it's quiet for 5 minutes until someone starts giggling AGAIN, and it goes on and on and on.

anyway, that was john and i last night.
here's a little peek...

(after we had been trying to go to sleep for quite some time)

my stomach: makes a squeaky noise.

me: i didn't just boone, just so you know. it was a tummy squeak.

i should probably explain that a boone is a fart, before i go on. i should also explain that i've never booned in front of john, and it's a point of contention between us. he begs me to boone on a regular basis. no, i am not kidding.

john: my tummy just made a noise, too. so i didn't even hear your tummy squeak.

john, again: but i don't believe you. i think you tooted.

the giggling begins.

me: if i tooted, you would know because it would smell bad. my toots don't smell good. that's why i don't toot in front of you, dickhole.

bed shakes with laughter.

john: that sucks for you.

more giggles.

john: my boones smell like flowers.

john: laughs so hard i think snot may have come out of his nose, but i'm not sure because it was dark and he had his back to me.

me: no, they don't. more giggling.

john: my boones smell like clean butt-hole.

at this point, the entire house may be shaking with our laughter.

me, after giggling for a few minutes: great. now i have to get up and write this down, or else i won't be able to remember how retarded we are tomorrow.

i get up and write the exchange down on a tiny scrap of paper.
john is silent the entire time, and i think he has finally fallen asleep.
then i crawl back into bed, and he starts giggling again, which make me start giggling again.
i think we fell asleep giggling.

i mean, do we ever get old enough that farts cease to be funny?
oh well.
at any rate, giggling is good for the soul, and i know i fell asleep happy last night.
er, this morning.
whatever.

options

2007-03-10T16:06:00.000-05:00

so, what does everyone think of "queenofnothing.com" as my new domain name?
it hasn't been taken yet, but "ifiwerequeenoftheworld.com" has been taken already, and so has "queenoftheworld.com."

i'd link you to them, but i'm going to be late for work if i don't get in the shower five minutes ago.

oh, "supertiff.com" is available, too.
i really like that one, but you guys don't know any of those stories, and it certainly has nothing to do with my blog the way it is now.

i am starting to have blog moving anxiety.
when i first started working on the other site, it went so easy. but now i'm finding it difficult to make it exactly the way i want it.
apparently i have to learn how to edit css, so it might still be a while before i actually move.

i am off of work tomorrow, though.
maybe a bottle of wine and 18 hours in front of my computer will do the trick.

anyway, here's a few things i need help with:
(d.b. echo, one lonely success, i'm looking at you guys.)
(and any one else who knows the answers, obviously.)

1. can i transfer my site meter? i know it's a little retarded sometimes, but i don't want to start from zero again. i lost my old site meter when i switched to the new blogger, and 4,000 unique visits disappeared. i was not happy. i really do not want to part with my visits. i'm sure i''m the only one who looks at it, but i love it very very much.

2. nevermind. must shower. more later.

not-so-elderly woman behind a counter

2007-03-10T01:26:00.000-05:00

it was 10:55am.
we wouldn't even be open for another 5 minutes, and i was fielding the fourth phone call with someone wondering if we would be showing the university of michigan basketball game.
please keep in mind that this is a really dumb question to ask.

we are a sportsbar.
on the university of michigan's campus.
OF COURSE we will be showing the basketball game.

the phone: riiiiinng, riiiiinng.

me: the (blank) sportsbar.

a guy on the phone: are you a sportsbar?

me: um, *i* am not a sportsbar, no. but i do work at one.

the guy: so you ARE a sportsbar.

(sigh.)

me: yes, sir. i'm a sportsbar.

the guy: well, do you have t.v.s?

me: no, we're a sports RADIO bar.

the guy: so i can't watch the basketball game?

(sigh.)

me: sir, i'm kidding. of course you can watch the game.
me, inwardly: can't wait to meet you!

****

by 12:15pm, every seat in the restaurant was filled, which was complicated by the fact that they were all empty at 5 til. things were a little crazy, to say the least.

the phone: riiiiinng, riiiiinng.

me: the (blank) sportsbar.

another guy: can i speak to the owner, please?

me, seeing the owner run around like a chicken on the other side of the restaurant: actually, we're right in the middle of our lunch rush, so it's a really bad time. could you call back between 2 and 4?

him: i'll just leave a few of my numbers...

me: i'm sorry, sir. you've called a sportsbar, and we're right in the middle of a big game. it's lunchtime. i have 6 tables that i haven't even been to yet. i cannot go find a piece of paper to take your message right now. please call back between 2 and 4.

him: it's not my fault that it's my job to call people. i'm just trying to do my job.

me: me too, sir. me too. please call back and try to do your job again between 2 and 4.

****

the thing is, how could anyone think it's a good idea to make a sales call to a restaurant at 12:15?
that's lunchtime everywhere, right?
i'm pretty sure it's not just an ann arbor thing.

here's a tip, in case there's anyone out there is any kind of phone sales business:
if you call us during the lunch or dinner rush, we are not going to buy what you're selling.
plain and simple.
you could be selling a thousand dollars for the bargain price of fifty cents, and we won't care, because we will have stopped listening to you as soon as we figure out that you're trying to sell us something in the middle of our lunch rush.

****

so, yeah.
not-so-elderly, but definitely grumpy.

i'm not dead, yet.

2007-03-09T04:00:00.000-05:00

although probably not one single soul in the universe has noticed my absence...
i do feel bad that i haven't enlightented you with any of my enlightening enlightenedness since tuesday.
and since i know that i am going to be mighty busy at work tomorrow, i thought i should say something.

so, here you go:

i am not dead.

i've been working on a new 'home' for my blog.*
and, change?
it is not easy, people.

so, i've been working on that,** and also wandering around leaving comments to remind people to play the ass hat game, and then worrying about the people who apparently do not like me because immediately after i left the comment, they emailed jen and asked to be taken off the wtb!? blogroll.
if that's not a blow to the ego, i don't know what is.

oh, and YES! i know that i haven't been very funny lately.
you want funny?
go here.
or, here, if you want a little 'adult' humor.

as for me?
i'll bring the funny soon, i promise.
if nothing else, i know that this weekend is the big 10 basketball championship, and next week brings both the start of the NCAA tournament, and st. patrick's day.
for a girl working in a sports bar?
this equals comic gold.

i don't even have to try, people are that ridiculous.

so hang in there, fair readers!
funny is on the way, with a shiny new blog to boot!

*no, i will not tell you where to find it yet! i'm working on crap, people! crap called 'design,' or some other such nonsense. (read: i'm rambling on incessently to my boyfriend about how i want my new blog to look, and hoping that i can offer him something (food? sex? xbox games?) that will convince him to just design the damn thing for me already.)

**and i have to ask for a little advice.
i think i'm going to buy my own domain name, but all the usual suspects are taken--you know 'tiffany.com' is diamonds...and whatever and whatever. so, can anyone make some domain name suggestions? should i go with something that's not my name at all? like, an alias or a nickname or something? it seems weird, because my blog is my real (first and middle) name right now. of course, if i would have thought that there would ever be actual peple reading my blog, i may not have done that. but now i kind of feel like i should keep it similar to what it is now. or, does it not matter?
HELP!!!

the supermarket will be the death of me

2007-03-06T22:44:00.000-05:00

the supermarket down the street from my house is trying to kill me.
no clear pattern has emmerged, but to date, this supermarket has tried the following:
1. to run me over with several cars
2. to give me a stroke
3. to run me over with shopping carts
4. to suck my brain into a black hole of non-function

i don't know what it is about this particular supermarket, but something bad happens EVERY SINGLE TIME i shop there.

****

it started about two years ago, not too long after the store opened. it was about 3:30 am, and i was driving to my parent's house after work, because i was staying with them for the holidays. as i neared the supermarket--which is literally a mile down the street from my parent's house--i decided to swing in and pick up a few things i needed for a dish i was taking to a holiday party the next day. the store is open 24 hours, so i figured, why not? it seemed a lot easier than getting up extra early the next day so i could go to the store, during the holidays, fight through the masses for the 4 things i needed, and then go back home to shower, beautify, prepare food and blah blah blah, whatever.

you get the point.
probably a little too well, after all that rambling.

anyway.
the trip ended up NOT SAVING ME ANY TIME AT ALL, because the supermarket--while sporting a huge 'open 24 hours' neon sign in its window--didn't have any lanes open. only the u-scan area was open, but there was no cashier manning the lane. which is bad, because we all know that every other item you scan at the u-scan freezes the maching and tells you please wait for cashier assistance so they can make sure that you haven't snuck anything into your bag.
so, all four of the u-scan scan thing-things were occupied by customers who were awaiting 'cashier assistance,' and i became the 8th person in a line which was not only not moving, but also seemed to have no hope of moving anytime in the near future.

there was a guy stocking soup cans nearby, and another guy sweeping right by us with one of those hallway-wide brooms, but they just ignored us.
for twenty-three minutes.

finally a girl came out of somewhere and explained that she is entitled to a break every whatever amount of time, and that it wasn't her fault that the company didn't schedule anyone else to be there.

and, really? she had a point. i'd like to think that if my employer was blatantly not giving a crap about my rights, i would stand up for myself, too.
but it didn't stop me from being pissed off at the store itself.
i mean, if you can't handle being open for 24 hours, then just don't do it, right?

****

i've had an icky feeling about the u-scan ever since it made its appearance.
like, it's just another example of technology rendering us completely silent.
sure, we still communicate--i have many friends in the blogosphere whose voices i may never hear in the audible sense.
but it makes me worry a little about the state of humanity, that we can't even be bothered with the simple verbal correspondance required in a grocery transaction.
but, whatever.

****

if that seemed like a bunch of nonsense, let me give you a more concrete explanation of my u-scan hatred.

last week i stopped at said supermarket of doom, and i had to use the u-scan because they only had one 'real' lane open. even though it was 3pm on a thursday. i mean, we all know that no one wants to buy groceries at such a time--other than the 70 million people who were in the store--so why open any lanes?

it is fun to take an entire cart-full of groceries through the u-scan, so let the people do it themselves, right?

anyway, i only had 4 things, so it wouldn't have been a big deal if it weren't for the 5 people in front of me who had full carts.
but blah blah whatever, i waited my turn, and began to scan my 4 measly things.
it went like this:

thing one:
machine: beep.
computerized voice: please place the item in the bag.

i place the item in the bag.
i repeat the exciting process 2x.

thing four:
machine: beep.
compuerized voice: please wait for cashier assistance.

i look up (past the other 3 u-scan stations, as i'm at the last one) toward the cashier.

cashier, LOUDLY: what was the last thing you put in your bag?

me, glad it wasn't vagisil or something: umm, worchestershire sauce.

cashier, still loudly, but now with more attitude: don't lie to me!

me: um, ok. i'm not lying.

cashier: well how many items are in your bag then?

me, very aware of the four hundred million people who are now looking at me like i'm a criminal: there's 3, and then there's this last one that you haven't let me scan yet.

cashier: i seen you put 4 items in there.

~interlude: i must mention here that it took every single bit of strength i could summon to not correct this ugly bitch's grammar. because people who misuse that word do not deserve to live.~

me: there are only 3 things in here. please come over and have a look, if you think there's a problem.

cashier: i ain't coming over there. if you feel like you need to steal, go ahead. but you'll get your's.

my u-scan then unfroze, and i paid. i wheeled my cart to the door, sure that some security type person was going to tackle me on the way out, but no one did. i guess that lady was just a bitch. with piss-poor language skills.

****

two weeks ago, (before the humiliating trip described above) i went grocery shopping at the same store, and i left my groceries in my cart.

for a long time.
as in, my groceries were in the cart, in the store, but i WASN'T there, because i left without them.

while i was paying for my groceries--i think it was about $40--i noticed that i didn't have my wallet with me. so, i had enough random cash floating around--bartending job, and all--but i had other errands to run which were going to require i.d. and debit card and the rest of my cash, all of which were in my wallet, at home.
the only thing i can think is that, as i pushed my cart out of the store, i was re-thinking my errand plans, to accommodate the fact that i was going to have to go home before i did anything else.

i went home, and got my wallet.
i went to the party supply store to buy mardi gras beads for the bar.
i went to target for...i don't remember what for. but it's right next to the party supply store, and i can't be that close to target without going in. i mean, there's ALWAYS something that you NEED at target, right?

anyhow, i was getting back into my car, which was by then a fair distance from home and the grocery store when i realized that there were no grocery bags in my car.
of course, at first i thought that someone had stolen my groceries...
but my ipod and my itrip were still propped proudly (stupidly) on the dashboard.

why would someone steal my groceries, but not my ipod?

it was about that time that it occurred to me that i had left my groceries in the cart, in the foyer of the supermarket, exactly 73 seconds after i paid for them.*

because i am an idiot.

****

today i went to the grocery store again.
i know.
i should know better.
but, seriously, it's the only (geographically) convenient supermarket around!
and it also has the cheapest groceries.

anyway, the point is, i was grocery shopping.

and there's this other bad thing about this particular store which i haven't mentioned yet: there is really not enought room to navigate out of one aisle and into the next, because they didn't leave enough room between the registers and the actual aisles. and, of course, that's complicated by the fact that there is only ever one register open at a time...so it's ALWAYS CONGESTED AS HELL.

anyhow.
i was coming out of one lane, trying to turn into the next, and a man was standing in my way.
he was just inside the aisle, standing next to a cart that his wife was manning.
together, they were taking up the entire (poorly engineered, not-wide-enough) aisle.
he looked at me, smiled, and then turned his back to me and started text messaging someone on his phone.

i stood there staring at him for a second.
his wife was in a label-reading trance, so she had no clue what was going on.
but, he?
WAS TEXT MESSAGING.
he totally could have stepped to the side, as text messaging doesn't require being near any particular brand of cereal. at least not with my service.

after standing for a minute or two, i sighed VERY LOUDLY and moved on to the next aisle.

i was later rewarded when the man ran over my toes with his cart in the magazine/candy aisle.

****

see?
that supermarket has it out for me.
i swear.

*yes, they were still there when i went back for them. but that doesn't really make up for the embarrassment of walking into the supermarket and admitting that you are so dumb that you forgot you had purchased groceries 73 seconds after the purchase took place. i mean, i might as well have walked up to the customer service counter and asked 'did anyone SEEN me leave my groceries here earlier?'

excerpts

2007-03-06T02:04:00.000-05:00

~I've posted this before, but it was WAY back in the day, before there was one single soul (other than my own) reading this blog. i was just going through my archives, thinking about putting labels on my posts, and i decided that i should post this again. i hope you enjoy it, at least a little bit.~

from good bones, by margaret atwood (alien territory, part 7); for b.m.:

Those ones.
Why do women like them?
They have nothing to offer, none of the usual things. They have short attention spans, falling-apart clothes, old beat-up cars, if any. The cars break down, and they try to fix them, and they don't succeed, and give up. They go on long walks from which they forget to return.
They prefer weeds to flowers.
They tell trivial fibs.
They perform clumsy tricks with oranges and pieces of string, hoping desperately that someone will laugh. They don't put food on the table. They don't make money.
Don't, can't, won't.

They offer nothing.
They offer the great clean sweep of nothing, the unseen sky during a blizzard, the dark pause between moon and moon. They offer their poverty, an empty wooden bowl; the bowl of a beggar, whose gift is to ask.
Look into it, look down deep, where potential coils like smoke, and you might hear anything.
Nothing has yet been said.

They have bodies, however.
Their bodies are unlike the bodies of other men. Their bodies are verbalized. Mouth, eye, hand, foot, they say. Their bodies have weight, and move over the ground, step by step, like yours. Like you they roll in the hot mud of the sunlight, like you they are amazed by morning, like you they can taste the wind, like you they sing.
Love, they say, and at the time they always mean it, as you do also. They can say lust as well, and disgust; you wouldn't trust them otherwise. They say the worst things you have ever dreamed.
They open locked doors.
All is given to them for nothing.

They have their angers.They have their despair, which washes over them like grey ink, blanking them out, leaving them immobile, in metal kitchen chairs, beside closed windows, looking out at the brick walls of deserted factories, for years and years.
Yet nothing is with them, and from it they bring back messages:
Hurt, they say, and suddenly their bodies hurt again, like real bodies.
Death, they say, making the word sound like the backwash of a wave. Their bodies die, and waver, and turn to mist. And yet they can exist in two worlds at once: lost in the earth or eaten by flames, and here. In this room, when you re-say them, in their own words.

But why do women like them?
Not like, I mean to say: adore.
(Remember, that despite everything, despite all I have told you, the rusted cars, the greasy wardrobes, the lack of breakfasts, the hopelessness, remain the same.)
Because if they can say their own bodies, they could say yours also.
Because they could say skin as if it meant something, not only to them but to you.
Because one night, when the snow is falling and the moon is blotted out, they could put their empty hands, their hands filled with poverty, their beggar's hands, on your body, and bless it, and tell you it is made of light.

****

obviously, i adore margaret atwood.
if you haven't read the handmaid's tale or oryx and crake, i really think you should go pick them up right this minute and not leave the house again until you've read them.
oh, and the blind assassin is also very enjoyable.

taking 'ass hat' to a whole new level

2007-03-05T14:50:00.000-05:00

internet, please meet stephen grant, fuck-head wife killer and ass hat, esq.

his wife, tara, has been 'missing' since february 9th.
on friday, police found a human female torso in the garage of their home near detroit, leading them to make stephen the number one suspect in his wife's disappearance.
because, you know, maybe it was somebody else's torso that just happened to be chillin' in the garage.

the garage of a home where two very young children live, for the record.

this morning, stephen confessed to strangling and dismembering his wife WHILE THEIR TWO YOUNG CHILDREN WERE HOME.

he offered no motive, but on friday--before parts of his wife's body were found in his garage--he gave an interview to a local detroit news station, in which he portrayed his wife as a bad mother and a bossy and insensitive wife.

the thing is, all of that may very well be true.
we can never really understand the dynamics of other people's relationships--hell, most of us struggle to figure out our own.
it seems that tara grant was the primary bread-winner for her family.
it seems that she had to travel a lot to do this.
it seems that stephen was the primary caretaker of their two children.

of course, none of his makes tara grant a bad person or a bad mother.
but it doesn't negate it either.
stephen grant may very well have been justifiably unhappy. he may have been worried about his children's lack of quality time with their mother,and he may have felt taken advantage of, and overworked, and under-appreciated.

but none of that matters, because the minute that he decided to kill her, every unhappiness of his own that he could possibly describe became irrelevent.
tara could have been the worst mother in the world.
she could have been known to frequently tell casual acquaintances that she hated her husband and children, but, once you kill her?
you're the bad guy.

end of story.

there is nothing she could be guilty of that could justify this behavior.

****

maybe i shouldn't be this infuriated, about the lives of some people that i don't even know.
but i think about this guy, and that other ass hat, scott peterson, and i think about how the leading cause of death for pregnant women is homocide (google it), and i just can't think of ANYTHING in ANYONE'S little insignificant life that could justify not just killing somebody, but killing your own wife--the mother of your own children.

****

if i ever get married, my vows are going to go like this:

i promise that i am walking into this union with my eyes open.
i promise that i know one, or both of us may one day change our minds, but today i promise two things: first, that i HOPE that we never will, and that even though i know there will be days when it is very, very hard, i will try to make this work everyday for the rest of my life, and second, that if one, or both of us DOES change our minds, i will do everything i can to make that transition as easy as possible for both of us because even if one day it turns out that you are not the one for me, i will always care about you and your happiness.
i promise that this promise will be multiplied by eleventy thousand if we ever have children, because it would be in the best interest of our children that they have happy and fulfilled parents.

more than anything, i promise that i love you enough that NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, I WILL NEVER KILL YOU AND CHOP YOU INTO TINY PIECES.

sidetracked

2007-03-05T04:44:00.000-05:00

i had something in mind, something i was going to write after work tonight.

but...

how can one write, when this movie is on?

so, yeah. now it's 5am, and i'm still sitting here watching a movie that i've already seen.
although, i should point out that i've only seen this movie 4 or 5 times.
there are other movies that are still capable of rendering me useless, even though i've seen them 60 or 70 times.

do you guys have any movies like that?
ones that you've seen so much you could do most of the dialogue by heart, but for some reason you can't help but watch them when they show up on the television?

so, anyway.
i know you're all disappointed because you come here every hour in the hopes that i will have written something funny or something otherwise worth reading. but i have a movie to get back to.
and then some sleeping to do.

in the meantime, why don't you tell me about your movies?
you must have at least one or two that you'll stay up late for, even though you already know what's going to happen.

spill it!

easy like saturday morning

2007-03-03T16:24:00.000-05:00

does this look like a girl who woke up ready to face a long night of bartending?

if you're thinking no, you are very smart indeed.

oh well, i'm sure i'll have a good story for you tomorrow.
and isn't that really what it's all about?

screw the money; i do it for the stories.

as far as you know.

still tagalicious, after all these years.

2007-03-02T01:17:00.000-05:00

this guy dared me to post the top ten songs in my itunes library, and i swear to god, if my music wasn't so pathetic i wouldn't bore you with it.

but you know i can't turn down a good chance to embarrass myself, so of course i have to do it.
and, seeing as how my itunes gives me a 'top 25' list, i think i'll just go ahead and post that.
because there's just so much good fun to be had, you know?

anyway, here it is:

(oh, and it was specified that i should post in the 'song-artist-record' format. so when i tag you, make sure you do it that way, too. otherwise you'd be breaking the rules, and we all know that you certainly can't do whatever you want on your own blog.)

1. reverie, claude debussy. (album not listed)
2. mr. brightside, the killers, hot fuss.
3. dirty harry, the gorillaz, demon days.
4. alone, heart, greatest hits.
5. golden slumbers, the beatles, abbey road.
6. everloving, moby, play.
7. the great gig in the sky, pink floyd, dark side of the moon.
8. the district sleeps alone tonight, the postal service, give up.
9. all i want, joni mitchell, blue.
10. nice to know you, incubus, morningview.
11. porcelain, moby, play.
12. strawberry fields, the beatles, magical mystery tour.
13. heard 'em say, kanye west (featuring adam levine), late registration.
14. encore, dangermouse, the grey album.
15. echo, incubus, morningview.
16. alien, bush, sixteen stone.
17. anna begins, counting crows, august and everything after.
18. across the universe, the beatles, let it be.
19. ain't nothin' ta fuck wit, wu-tang clan, violent crimes 2 soundtrack.
20. nightswimming, REM, automatic for the people.
21. roads, portishead, dummy.
22. moonlight serendade, glen miller. (album not listed)
23. come monday, jimmy buffet, songs you know by heart.
24. violet, hole, live through this.
25. suite: judy blue eyes, crosby stills nash and young, so far.

so, yeah.
while i would argue that most of that is enjoyable music, the problem is that it is all REALLY, REALLY OLD. b.g. always makes fun of me because we'll be playing the jukebox at work, and i'll be all hey, do you know this one song, it goes like... and then i sing whatever part i know, and she always knows exactly what it is and then she says hey, thanks for catching on! that song has been out for 2 years!

so, maybe i should take this opportunity to ask for some suggestions.
does anyone want to recommend some music to me?
music that came out in 2006, or (gasp) even 2007?

please!
help a sister out!

p.s. i hereby tag jen!!, mikala, lady s., csl, d.b. echo, and whim.
i was also going to tag the jessicas, (although one of them was already tagged) and stew, and another utah girl. but it's late and i'm sick of making links.

so, how about if everyone just plays along?

oh, and you should all really consider paying a visit to WTB!? and read about the new project we're starting.
it's going to be really fun, so go! read it now!

call homeland security, there's a liberal in our midst.

2007-03-01T12:37:00.000-05:00

i woke up this morning to the sound of thunder so loud, i was sure there was a train running through my bedroom.
this is scary for three reasons: i am scared of both thunder and trains, and i live in a basement.* so, thunder that is loud enough to wake me up down there? is thunder that i do not like.

i went upstairs to pee, and i saw lightning in the sky outside.
lightning, people.
i know it's march now, but just barely.

the house was still shaking from the never-ending roll of thunder when i went back downstairs to check the weather channel and see if i was going to be attacked by any killer weather in the near future.
in a most unsettling turn of events, the weather channel seemed to have no idea what was going on.
the weather icon above my city was a cute little cloud with some snow flakes coming out of it, with a caption that said 'some snow showers.'

it said nothing about non-stop thunder.
so that was a little worrisome.

then they started talking about the national weather, and i learned that there was something called 'what might be the biggest tornado cell ever' rolling over missouri.

but don't worry.
there is no such thing as global warming.

and if you feel compelled to give me a list of scientific facts to show me that i'm foolish for being concerned about the environment, please save yourself the time. i promise that i do respect your opinion (unless you hold the opinion expressed here. i'm not going to be able to respect that one. i hope you can understand.) and i am aware that you have a lot of facts to use in your argument against global warming. but, you know, then i would have to go find all of the counter-facts, and then we could go on and on forever and i really don't feel like doing all that work, do you? plus, then i would just get all freaked out and worried that we're all going to die in some massive and sudden climate shift. i haven't even been able to make myself watch an inconvenient truth, and i don't know if i ever will.

i mean, i'm trying to deal with my fear of thunder and trains.
i don't need to add to my list of things to be scared of.

*for the record, it's not actually thunder that scares me. it's the idea that the thunder is signalling something else. like, a potential tornado or something.
i tend to think in worst case scenarios.
and yes, it is a problem.

the one where i answer the effing questions already

2007-02-28T20:42:00.000-05:00

hey, remember how i'm supposed to be answering the questions i found at sarah's blog?

yeah, i sort of forgot about it, too.
you know, if 'forgot' means i got lost for a few days inside 12 shoe boxes full of pictures, then yeah. i forgot.

anyway, i suppose it's time to wrap this S.O.B. up.

question 2: have you ever had an out of body experience?

the short answer is no.
but as i've never stopped at the short answer before, i'll go ahead and elaborate.
i've never had an 'out of body experience,' but i think i might have had an 'other-worldly' experience.
i've always remembered a dream i had about my paternal grandmother--it was when i was about 22 years old, which means she had been gone for 8 or 9 years when it happened. i had a dream that my whole extended family was together in my grandparent's old house, which they hadn't had since i was maybe 5 years old. everyone was just hanging out--laughing, talking, fighting over scattergories answers. you know, the usual. but then i noticed my grandma sitting on the couch in the middle of everyone. i think i was the only one who could see her, and she didn't say anything. she didn't even move. she was just watching us.
could it be some leftover energy of my grandma's purposely trying to show me that she is still with us, watching us all the time?
or was it just a dream?
i've never been married to the idea that the dream was definitively some sort of visit from another realm, but it has always been in the back of my head--like, a possibility.

but, i would be lying if i told you that it doesn't seem more likely after the dream i had about my dad.

about two weeks after my dad died, i had a really bizarre dream.
i was working at the bar, and it was busy the way the bar can only be busy in your dreams. if you've ever worked in a restaurant, you'll probably know what i mean.
we have these dreams A LOT. it's like you're working in your bar, and all of the sudden there are 60 more tables than normal and they're all full and you're the only one working.
anyway, it was one of those kind of dreams.
i was running around in a huge crowd of people with a tray full of drinks, and all of the sudden i saw my dad run by with his own tray of drinks. for a second i was glad that i had some help, and then i remembered that my dad was dead, and i got very freaked out.
i put my tray down and went over to confront him.
before i could say anything, he put his hand up and said don't worry, i'm fine.
i said um, you've been dead for two weeks.
he again said don't worry, i'm fine.
and i said well, you definitely shouldn't be working. you're going to make yourself sick. you should rest.

still, all he would say was don't worry, i'm fine.
normally, i would do a better job of calling someone out if they were dead and trying to work at the bar.
you know, if that sort of thing ever happened, which obviously it doesn't.
but as i dream-talked to my dead father, it was like i got lost in a trance. his eyes were literaly like the ocean--it seemed like you could swim into them, and they seemed to be truly neverending. i'm struggling here to find the words to accurately describe the way they looked.
i guess it's enough, to say looking into them was sort of like looking into eternity.

and i never say sentimental shit like that, so you can assume i really mean it.

anyway, then 'don't stop til you get enough,' the michael jackson song, came on the jukebox and my dad and i started dancing around.

i woke up suddenly, and i was drenched in sweat.
normally, this would have been a nightmare.
i have 'nightmares' all the time, where nothing scary actually happens, but for some reason i wake up scared out of my mind.
john was sleeping next to me, and normally when i have a 'nightmare' i hit him over and over and repeat 'i'm having a nightmare' until he rolls over and holds me while i fall back asleep.

this time, i didn't wake him up.
this time, i woke up with a sense of calm unlike anything i'd ever felt before.
it was like i had taken a few too many xanax, really.
(and no, i hadn't taken a xanax that day. just for the record)

anyway.
i'm not trying to assert my experience as any sort of proof of any kind of anything that may or may not happen to us after we die.
i'm just saying that i really felt that my dad was trying to tell, through this dream, me that he was ok.
who knows, maybe it wasn't him, and it was my own subconscious trying to relieve me of the guilt i felt about what happened to him.
to be honest, one possibility is only slightly less extraordinary to me than the other.

question 3: when was your most embarrassing fart, and who was around to 'enjoy' it?

i honestly have never had an embarrassing fart. i guess you could say i have my bodily emissions on lockdown.
but i'm sure one day it'll 'get away from me,' so to speak.
and when it does, you'll be the first to know.

question 4: have you ever watched porn with your sigificant other? was it hot, or weird?

there's definitely been porn around...
for instance, i really like the show cathouse, on hbo. i think it's really funny.
but i don't think we've ever, you know, 'used' porn together.
so i guess i would have to say that it's neither hot, nor weird.
it just is what it is.
(and, to me, it's mostly silly)

question 5: complete the follwing sentence: in my refrigerator/kitchen/pantry, you can always find:

me looking for something to eat.

specifically: vodka and whole grain eggo waffles with blueberries.

so, there.
we're done here.

i'm going back to my piles of pictures now.

clarification

2007-02-27T23:51:00.000-05:00

a friend of mine let me know that she didn't think the picture of john and i (posted here) does john justice. she thinks the internet will now think that my boyfriend is shaggy and goofy looking.* which, he is. but in a good way. anyway, just to clarify that he's not TOTALLY shaggy and goofy looking, here are a few more pictures:

see?

definitely not totally shaggy and goofy looking.**
although, i suppose he won't be happy that i posted that second picture, because he thinkgs it's pretty goofy himself.
i guess it's a good thing that he hardly ever reads my blog.

anyway, i love that picture, so too bad for him.

*she did say that my hair looked awesome, though.
**yes, i do pick out all his clothes. that's why they're so cute. obviously.

favorite pictures, episode two.

2007-02-27T14:36:00.000-05:00

well, just another girl said that i should keep the photos coming.
so if this blog temporarily explodes into a narcissistic picture posting frenzy, you can go ahead and blame her.

clearly, it has nothing to do with me at all.

anyway, here's another one:

this picture was taken just after my sister and i arrived in maui. obviously, it was MANY, MANY years ago--if i had to guess, i'd say twenty years.

anyway, we were standing either on or very close to the beach, and there were humpback whales jumping out of the water about every fifteen seconds. it was really incredible. it was on this trip that my grandma got her nickname: my grandpa coerced b.j. into calling my grandma 'mamu the whale' when we were playing in the pool. obviously, my grandma wasn't happy. but eventually she came around, probably because we dropped the 'the whale' part, and just called her mamu.

there are a million reasons why i love this picture, like the way i'm looking at my grandpa, while my sister watches me for clues on what she's supposed to be doing. but, as with the first 'favorite picture' post, the real reasons that i love this don't really have anything to do with the picture itself.
i just love remembering this vacation.
i love that my grandparents had my father bring my sister and i to visit them in maui for two weeks, even though my sister isn't biologically part of their family. they didn't have to do that. i mean, look how young she is here--she never would have remembered that i got to go to hawaii and she didn't. but they always considered her part of their family, right from the beginning.

in fact, when my family (the family i lived with, b.j., me, our mom, and her dad) would go on vacation, we mostly ended up going to florida and staying with my father's parents. they always introduced my step-dad as their 'son.'

it's funny, i remember when i was in third grade my school started a weekly program for children from divorced families. they would encourage us to draw pictures and talk about our feelings. the other kids cried a lot, and the lady in charge kept telling my mom that i needed real help because i was 'repressing my feelings.' the truth was, i just didn't have any bad feeling s about it.
today, i know that is because the grown-ups around me made a very conscious decision to do everything they could to keep my family life as happy and 'normal' as possible.
sometimes when my family would go to florida to visit my grandparents, my father would be there, too, and we would all be staying in the same house. as a child, this did not seem strange to me.
as i grew up, and began to know my parents as adult people, outside of their assigned parent roles, i began to see that they really didn't like each other. they had major issues with each other, but i never would have known had i not specifically asked them. not only did they refrain from speaking poorly of each other in front of me, they managed to be around each other A LOT, even though i'm sure they would have preferred not to.

could i be any more blessed?

anyway, back to the picture.
i love it because it represents how loving my entire family is.
it's really that simple.

my favorite pictures, episode one.

2007-02-27T01:01:00.000-05:00

john just taught me how to use my new scanner. which isn't really my new scanner because i've pirated it from my sister, but all that really means is that i must scan as many pictures as i can, as quickly as i can, before she decides to take it back.

you guys are soooo lucky.

(ha!)

anyway, in the process of my scanning i'm sure i'm going to stumble across 2 or 3 or 637 pictures that i want to share with you, so without further ado, i now present one of my favorite pictures:

i absolutely adore this photo, even though john will tell you it's a piece of crap. he's all about something called 'pixelation' and flaws. and other things that i don't really understand.
but, me? i remember this moment.
we had just screened john's first 'real' movie in ann arbor, and it was awesome.
you can see it here.

(and make sure you turn the sound up, because i think one of the things john is best at is sound editing. i mean, admittedly, i know jack shit. but i still think he rules.)

we'd been dating for aout two years by then, so of course i knew that he was a 'film maker.'
but to be honest, all it meant before that night was that he had a good excuse to not hang out with me. i had no idea how truly talented he was. i mean, i was around to help during filming and stuff like that, but i had no idea what the end product would look like.

i don't know who took this picture, but i know that i was whispering in john's ear about how completely fabulous i thought he was, and i was reminding him to take in the moment and remember the happiness that he felt that night.
this photo is just so powerful to me, because without it i might not have that moment burned so vividly into my head.* because, you know, we were also a little drunk that night--celebration, and all.

in fact, i think i dropped john's brand new digital camera on the floor about two and a half minutes after this picture was taken. it never worked again.
but i like to think that wasn't the most memorable thing that happened that evening.

i also enjoy my hair in this picture, but i suppose that's irrelevent.

it was an ass hat sort of day

2007-02-26T19:20:00.000-05:00

saturday night at the bar was the sort of night that makes you want to stab someone in the eyeball.

it started with the kid in the yellow shirt, who stared at me impatiently as i took care of a couple that had walked up to the bar just before him. when the couple was all set, i turned my attention to the (very young looking) kid, and asked him how he was doing. it went like this:

me: how're you doing tonight?

him: i want a miller lite.

me, inwardly: that good, huh? oh, and i'm fine. THANKS FOR ASKING.

me, audibly: ok, i just need to see your ID, hun.

him: (motioning toward the couple, and sneering) you didn't check their IDs!

me: yes, i did.

him: well i didn't see you.

me: ok, you're cut off.

****
i'm sure he probably said something we would have found humorous after that, but i don't know because i walked away.
i mean, first you're going to call me out on my job performance, and then you're going to admit that you can't remember seeing something that happened right in front of your nose less than two minutes before?

****

next came the guy who wanted me to f@#* him up the a$#.

no, i'm not kidding.

i was just behind the bar, minding my own business, when a very attractive man with a mullet and a brightly colored bud light t-shirt from the 80's walked up.

him: (sleazily) what's your name?

me: (hands on hips, of course) what's YOUR name?

him: my name doesn't matter.

me: well, my name doesn't matter, either.

him: your name DOES matter, because i'll need to know it when i yell for another beer.

me, inwardly: i love my job.

he then extends his hand across the bar, and says his name. i oblige, tell him my name and reach to shake his hand. unfortunately, the hand he has offered is what my sister and i like to call 'the dead fish hand.' you know, he didn't do anything with it. it was just hanging there. it was not a handshake.
men do this to women a lot, and i find it infuriating. now, i know a number of men who think it's inappropriate to shake a woman's hand the same way you shake a man's hand, to which i say WAKE UP AND SMELL THE NEW MILLENIUM. but, even they are better than this guy. when these guys reach to shake your hand, they actually take your hand and turn it a little, sometimes placing their other hand on top of yours as you exchange whatever social niceity the situation calls for. the point is, SOMETHING HAPPENS. sure, they don't really shake your hand, but they don't reach for a handshake and DO NOTHING. which is exactly what this guy did. i hate that crap. can you tell? but, whatever. end of handshake, back to the story.

me: so, what can i get for you?

him: i'll take a labatt. how much will that be?

me: $3.75

him: you've got to be kidding me!

me: um, no. sorry. do you still want it.

him: well, i don't know where else to go, so i'll take it.

it should be noted here that there are a million and two bars around. although i don't think any of them have cheaper beer.

i turn around to pour his beer, and he turns to the random guy seated next to him at the bar.

him (to the random guy he doesn't even know): she might as well bend me over and fuck me up the ass for $3.75.

me: sir! i can still hear you!

him: don't worry honey, i wasn't talking to you.

me, handing him his beer: $3.75, please.

this statement was accompanied by what i imagine was a VERY, VERY bitchy glare of hatefulness and wrath.

he went away for a while then, but about a half an hour later i saw him trying to get my attention at the far end of my bar.

him: i'll take another labatt.

me: are you going to swear at me again?

him: what?

me, louder: are you going to swear at me again?

him: i never swore at you!

me: you said that i might as well fuck you up the ass, because you thought your beer was too expensive.

him: i would never say something like that!

me: sir, you just said it 30 minutes ago.

him: no i didn't.

me: you're cut off.

****

don't you wish you had my job?

the one about the deflowering

2007-02-22T23:40:00.000-05:00

Question One: Where were you when you lost your virginity?

(p.s. go here or here or here, if you have no idea what's going on.)

i was in my best friend's brother's bed. but my best friend's brother wasn't there, because he was away at college. my best friend's parents were out of town so she was staying at my house for the week, but we told my mom that we were going to denny's (what is it with high school and going to denny's? is it because it's the only place you can afford to eat?) and instead we went to her house to get our groove on.
wait, did i just make it sound like we were getting our groove on with each other?
because, no.
different guys, different rooms.
(same pathetically short time frame)

i was seventeen, for the record. it was about nine days after my birthday. i remember this because i had decided, at the time, that i wanted to 'lose it' while i was still sixteen. and i tried, damnit. we just couldn't figure it out. isn't that crazy? i mean, it's like the simplest thing in the entire world, and it seriously took us more than three tries to actually 'do the deed.' anyway, i just wanted to let you know that i was seventeen, so i could make myself seem a little more dignified. not like the kids these days--they start 'doing it' at fifteen! and often times it's earlier than that! sluts.

(i'm totally joking. seventeen is also too early, or at least it was for me.*)

anyway, we got home on time that night and no one was the wiser. although, for some bizarre reason my mother started taking pictures of us before we went to bed. i think she was trying to finish a roll of film, and so now i have pictures to memorialize the evening.
maybe i'll find them and scan them later. or maybe not.

so, so far it's just another coming-of-age story, right?
well, this is me we're talking about. so, you must know that the whole thing is about to fall apart.

the next day at school, OF COURSE i had to write notes to one or two of my friends, letting them in on the news. perhaps this was a sign of things to come: now i tell complete strangers on the internet intimate details about my life, then i didn't even consider keeping the 'momentous event' a secret.

i did, however, hope to keep it a secret from my parents.

and i may have been successful, were i not the hugest idiot in the world.

see, i came home from school that day, changed into my work clothes (i worked at a cookie store in the mall. lamest thing ever.), and went off to work.
the problem is this: i am a very lazy and sloppy person, which explains why i changed in my parent's closet and left the clothes i wore to school in a pile on the floor WITH A NOTE I HAD WRITTEN TO SOMEONE, TALKING VERY SPECIFICALLY ABOUT HOW I HAD SEX THE NIGHT BEFORE, FOLDED UP IN THE POCKET.
oh, and i forgot to mention that my mother is, and always has been, a very nosey person. which explains why she searched my pockets AND FOUND THE NOTE.
imagine the total horror that i felt when i returned from work later that evening, boyfriend in tow, and walked in the front door to see my mother holding 'the note.'
i can't remember exactly what happened immediately after that.
i know my mother sat me down and gave me a talk of some sort, which involved the high recommendation of masturbation (like, i decided to have sex because i didn't know that masturbation existed? i don't know), but i seem to have blocked most of it out.
what i do know is that my mother must have taken a deep breath after reading the note and finding out that her baby girl was up to no good, and decided not to totally freak out.
i think parents have to do that sometimes.
you know, they can be very upset or disappointed or worried, but if they can, they have to try to keep the lines of communication open. by not freaking out--not getting mad, not screaming--my mother succeeded in that.
and, really?
she always has.

***we've had fights, i'm not saying we haven't. in fact, we fight a lot.
to this day.
with screaming and crying and the whole nine.
but i can honestly say that there has never been a single moment in my life that i have doubted how much my mother loves me. i have never done anything where i thought, if she knew, she wouldn't like me anymore.
and while i know that's as it should be, i also know there are a lot of people who grow up without that.
i know that i am a very lucky girl.***

but, anyway, this story is not over.
we haven't even touched true embarrassment yet.

as soon as my mom was done lecturing me 'because she just loves me so much and wants me to be happy and make good decisions,' i made the very piss-poor decision to go to a party which we weren't supposed to be having that night (a friday) at my best friend's house.
and, yes, we said we were going to denny's again. apparently we weren't very creative.

so i was at the party for a little while, and of course we decided to 'do it' again.
this time, we were not successful.
why?
because while my mother had tried to keep her cool and let me leave the house and not ground me, after about an hour her mom instincts got the best of her and she drove over to my best friend's house because she was sure that we were there, and not at denny's. and she was right, because moms are ALWAYS right. at least mine is.
seriously, it is frightening.

anyway, i was getting ready to get my groove on (although, i should point out that at this early point in my 'doing it' career, there was really no 'groove' to it) when all of the sudden one of the other kids at the party knocked on the door frantically and told us that my mother was at the front door.
i said, well, what did you tell her?
and he said that he didn't tell her anything, he just closed the door in her face and locked it.
so, yeah.
obviously, that was not going to work.

i totally got dragged home by my earlobe that night.
i will never forget how when my boyfriend heard that my mother was downstairs, he jumped up and ran out of the room, down the hall, and locked himself in the bathroom. but he didn't take his clothes with him.

lucky for him, my mother wasn't interested in coming inside.
she was just there to reclaim her daughter.

still, after all that, the most embarrassing thing was this:

that sunday all my relatives came over for dinner, because it was mother's day.
(i know, i know. not a great present for my mother)

i am the oldest grandchild,** so all of the 'kids' were playing outside, but i was sitting at the dining room table chatting with the grownups when one of my uncles began to tell an off-color joke about some kind of sexual thing--im not exactly sure because he never got to the punchline.
as soon as he realized what he was doing, he stopped and said: i'm sorry, i forgot there were young ears in the room.
to which my dad replied: oh, no. go ahead and tell your joke. tiffany knows ALL ABOUT SEX, DON'T YOU TIFFANY?

so, yeah.
that was probably the most embarrassing thing that had EVER happened to me at that point.

*and i really do plan on writing a post about why that was, outlining some of the things that i think girls should consider before they 'give it up.' and it has nothing to do with the possibility of going to hell because you didn't wait for marriage, or the possibility that the kids at school will call you a slut; rather, it is about recognizing the control that you give someone over your happiness when you participate in this particular activity. THAT is why i was too young, because i didn't know myself well enough yet, because i was still too defined by other people, and because i didn't know how to create my own happiness at that age. that is a dangerous place to be, and in that position, one should be more cautious with one's feelings. i was not. and i regretted it. big time.
but i'm totally bored with this post, so we'll have to discuss the details of this at a later time.

**i should say, i *was* the oldest grandchild at that time. i am now the second oldest. confused?

****edited to add: for anyone who hasn't been around long enough to see her in the comments, yes, my mother does read this blog. but that's ok because there is nothing i could ever say that my mother doesn't already know, because she knows everything. i think she might be a witch. but, for the record, a mostly good witch.****

another letter

2007-02-22T21:40:00.000-05:00

dear grey's anatomy,

fuck off.
no, really.
fuck right off.

unsincerely,
tiffany

p.s.
you have exactly nineteen minutes to make me feel better.
best get down to business.

edited to add: fine. i'll take it. but i'm still pissed at you, so you might want to send me some chocolates or something. i'm just saying.

interlude no.2 (in C sharp minor)

2007-02-21T15:26:00.000-05:00

***this interruption in your normally scheduled post about losing my virginity (which i'm sure you are all dying to read about) is brought to you by the letter 'W.' which stands for weepy, which is what i have been all damn day.***

this morning i had the view on in the background while i did the morning stalking of all my favorite internet places. rosie and elizabeth were interviewing this adorable 5-year-old boy, who had saved his mother's life. they were at the park when she collapsed, and he called 911 and blah blah whatever.
the point is, it was not a sad story.
but for some reason, i was crying.

i should have taken that as a major clue.
when i clicked through the guide on my t.v. and saw that spike lee's documentary when the levees broke: a requiem in four acts was playing on hbo, i should have decided to watch it some other time.

but i didn't listen to myself.

****
as i watched the documentary, i saw some footage of a young boy in a red shirt. he was about 4-years-old, and he was crying in a crowd of people outside the new orlean's convention center.
i remember seeing this boy when i watched the news as the aftermath of hurricane katrina actually unfolded. his image has always stayed with me because i've never seen a face that displayed as thorough of a despair and anguish and horror as his little face did that day.
i don't know what happened to that boy, but here he was--trembling lips and streaming tears and snotty nose on my television screen, again.

i remember sitting on my couch for three days straight, after the hurricane hit.

i remember the horror of the first moment that i realized that the white-capped waves i was seeing were rolling through neighborhood streets. i remember seeing houses flooded up to the rooftops--seeing a family waiting for rescue on the top of a roof, after they had broken through from inside the attic as the waters rose, and i remember wondering if the empty rooftops around them represented families who had evacuated, or families who weren't able to break through their rooftops.

i remember seeing an old lady, dead in her wheelchair, abandonded in the sweltering heat with a towel haphazardly placed over her head.

i remember being at work and hearing a man with no soul point to the looting taking place on the television as evidence that these people deserved what they got, that the world would be better off without them.

****
what i couldn't have known then was just how drastically our government and the other entities we believe will protect us if we need it were going to fail these people.

i didn't know that people who tried to walk out of town, across a highway bridge into a safer area, would be met by a barricade of men with shotguns and forced to turn back into the devastation.

i didn't know that people who had evacuated but left family members behind would get word from search and rescue teams that their houses had been searched and no bodies had been found. i didn't know how they would rejoice in the news that their mother-father-sister-brother had made it out, only to return to the city weeks or months later and find the body of a loved one themselves.

i didn't know about a man who came home from WWII and spent his last $10 to hold a contract for a house in the lower 9th ward, so that he could move his wife and his sons in to a place they could call their own. i didn't know the joy it brought him to be able to do such a thing. i didn't know the joy he felt when he finally paid the house off, after 35 years. he didn't know that when he was 85 a major hurricane would strike and detroy his home. but, when it did? he remained optimistic because he knew he's been paying his insurance on time to the same company for 50 years. he thought he was 'in good hands.' neither of us knew that they would screw him over--that they would refuse to offer him anything more than $600, claiming that they couldn't compensate him for water damage.
i'm not sure how they explained the two big trees that had fallen through his roof.

****
somewhere in the middle of this documentary, a man said a very important thing.
he said: "this is a signature moment, because we have the chance to see what's wrong with us."
he likened it to walking past a mirror, and catching yourself from an angle you don't like--one which maybe you weren't aware of, but which will always be in the back of your mind from that point on.

****
i remember sitting on my couch for three days straight, after the hurricane hit--sitting, staring, at the television.
i remember the moments when it became too much and i would get up and pace frantically around my house, circling and circling through the kitchen, into the living room, hands shaking, sitting down and then getting back up to pace some more, unable to keep my mind from reeling, unable to make sense of what was happening, unable to shake the feeling that this wasn't a disaster of nature, but a disaster of man--one that may not have been entirely avoidable, but which certainly could have turned out much better than it did.

i remember calling amber, who was freaking out, too (or, did she call me?) and how there were two or three moments when we said we should just get in the goddamn car and start driving down there to see what we could do.

but we didn't.

i didn't, because i was about to start my final semester of undergrad work and i didn't want to jeopardize that.
i didn't think it would be a good excuse, that i hopped in my car and headed into a disaster area, even though i didn't 'personally' know anyone there.
i didn't think people would understand.

and they wouldn't have understood.

because i'm sure that there are plenty of other people who had panic attacks in their living rooms while watching the news that week. but, in the end, most of us walked away from our t.v.'s when it got to be too much.
i remember very specifically the moment when, after three days, i had to force myself to leave the house because i simply could not sit there and obsess over it anymore.

and now i have my degree, which i haven't done jack-shit with, other than entertain myself on this blog.

and new orleans still hasn't recovered.
and the people who were there when katrina hit may never recover.
and i know i couldn't have changed that,
but i could have tried.

more people could have tried, and then maybe the survivors would have one less weight on their shoulders, because they wouldn't have to think that the rest of the country didn't value their lives.

if we knew that the government wasn't getting it done--and i think we did know that, at least after day 3--we should have done more than bitch about the inadequacy of their intelligence and their costly bureaucratic blunders.

but, we didn't.

****
i, for one, am looking in the mirror.

i wish i could hold it up in gw's face, or michael chertoff's face, or the face of the people who are still doing everything they can to keep the 9th ward a mess; to discourage the landowners from that devastated community from returning so they can sell the land and create a wealthy, white community.

but i guess i'll have to start with me, with this meager little blog post, by asking you to consider the following quote from a homeowner in the devastated lower 9th ward, who feels that some politicians and business people are trying to swindle him and his neighbors by creating a bureaucratic nightmare for these people as they try to reclaim and rebuild their lives.
he worries:
"we will end up a small city, primarily white and primarily well-to-do, and i think the rest of the country is ok with that."

i am not ok with that.

are you?

joining the fun

2007-02-20T19:29:00.000-05:00

i've recently started reading a new blog (well, it's new to me. not new in it's existence, or whatever) called sarah and the goon squad. my first clue that this blog would be awesome and enjoyable was that it came highly recommended by amalah, the supreme ruler of all things funny and interesting.

oh...
you thought i held that title?
no. she does. definitely.

anyway, my second clue that this blog would be awesome and enjoyable was that--as amalah pointed out--anyone who refers to her own children as 'the goon squad' can be considered both awesome and enjoyable, sight unseen.

so, i wandered over and quickly found that my suspicions were correct.

sarah = awesome and enjoyable.

in the first post i read at her blog, she was asking people's opinions on some books she was thinking of reading, and also asking for other reading recommendations.
my heart got a little a-twitter, i must admit.
but!
then i suggested a few of my favorite books, and she emailed me back to tell me that she had already read them, and that she loved them, too.
so, now i love her.
the end.

anyway, a few days ago sarah posted a variation on the '5 weird things' meme, which she was tagged with after one of her bloggy friends invited her readers to ask her embarrassing and/or funny and/or strange questions in her comments section. sarah participated by asking her friend where she lost her virginity, but then got screwed (no pun intended) when her friend answered the questions and then tagged all the contributors. and then sarah answered the questions on her blog, and invited the rest of the internet to play and blah blah blah, this is the longest explanation ever--definitely one which would cause most people to doubt that i have a degree in english.

back to the meme!
(mememememememememememememe)

the thing is, at first i thought that i couldn't answer these questions because there are certain people who read my blog who might get a little embarrassed or judge-y, reading about things like me losing my virginity.
but then i thought, you know what? i'm not embarrassed by it. so, why self-edit? i feel like sometimes we learn the most valuable things about ourselves (and others) when we allow ourselves to exist outside of the rules for being that we imagine other people want us to follow. and so now here i am to answer the bizarre questions, which i found here, even though they originated here.

~this is the part where you move on if you are feeling embarrassed or judge-y. just go read another blog for a while. it's ok, you can come back later. and of course, you're more than welcome to stay and read on. just consider yourself warned.~

******
(these particular asterisks indicate the passing of time. as in, i wrote the above stuff earlier. but now i am back, and it is a different day. just so you know.)

so, i started trying to answer the first question in this meme that we've been talking about, and seriously it is the longest thing ever.
so i've now decided that each question is going to be it's own post.

if you want to play--and i really think you should--the questions are as follows:

1.) where did you lose your virginity?
2.) have you ever had an out of body experience? describe in detail.
3.) when was your most embarrassing fart, and who was around to enjoy it?
4.) have you ever watched porn with your significant other? was it hot, or weird?
5.) complete the follwing sentence: in my refrigerator/kitchen/pantry, you can always find:

if you play, you can choose to go into as little or as much detail as you want.
obviously, i am getting pretty deep.
but, you know, you can totally do one word answers if you want.

now get cracking, people! i promise i'll be back relatively shortly with my first answer.

you lucky bastards.

oh. no. he. di. dint.

2007-02-19T03:43:00.000-05:00

on friday night my friend was bartending, and she ordered herself some mini-burgers for dinner.

it was about 10pm.

one of our 'regulars,' who had been at our bar SINCE 2PM, walked up and asked:
oh, are these for me?

my friend explained that no, the mini-burgers were not for him, as he had not ordered any mini-burgers.
mini-burgers seldom show up uninvited, you know.

my friend turned away to pour a beer for another customer, and when she came back to her dinner she saw that 'the regular' was eating one of her mini-burgers.
and apparently it was his second one, because there was a whole mini-burger already missing.

my friend had no idea what to do or say.
in the end, 'the regular' ate three of the four mini-burgers before his friend realized that he was eating someone else's food.

i don't think that i could ever find the words to tell you exactly how badly i wish i could have been there when this happened.
i have no idea what i would have said, or done.
but i'm pretty sure it would have been good.

i also wasn't there the next morning when 'the regular' returned to our bar, still drunk, and still in the same clothes from the night before.
b.g. told him to go home and take a nap, but i guess instead he went to a bar down the street and drank until he got cut off there.
i WAS at work when he stumbled in after that, and walked right behind my bar holding his cell phone at arm's length, demanding that i charge his phone for him.

not asking, mind you.
demanding.

i asked him if he expected me to charge his phone with my ass, as i saw no phone charging mechanism in sight, and then he accused me of stealing it.*

and that was pretty much the time that i decided i didn't want to speak to him EVER AGAIN.

or, wait. maybe it was last weekend, or even the weekend before that, since he is pretty much always this annoying.

*his charger, not my ass.

unsaid

2007-02-17T10:48:00.000-05:00

there's one or two people in my past who could benefit from this wisdom:

it's not an easy lesson, that's true. but when we find ourselves consistently unhappy, many times the only way to happiness is through INNER change.

wouldn't it be nice if everyone could realize that, instead of running around trying to pin all their unhappinesses on someone else all the time?

p.s.
thanks to csl for the link. what a fun sight!

two hundredy

2007-02-14T12:50:00.000-05:00

so, here we are.
this is my 200th blog post.

it all started back in september of 2004, when i had to start a blog to post assignments for a class i was taking called writing, style, and technology.
i completed the assignments,* and promptly forgot that i had created a blog at all.
and justifiably so, i think. i mean, a huge shit-storm was basically shitting all over my life at the time.

anyway.
then i had a crazy dream in march of 2005, and i blogged about that.

and then i went away again.

in september of 2005, i really started blogging--sparingly at first, and then with more and more frequency. (not surprsingly, the frequency increased as readers increased.)

the first time someone i didn't know in 'real life' left me a comment, i nearly freaked out.
i had just written this post, about waiting on the very most bitchiest bitch-monster of all time. i'm not one of those bloggers who composes in word and then copy and pastes into blogger. because that requires thinking, and also planning. neither of which do i enjoy. see, my entries are all very haphazard. (but you probably knew that already). it's like, when something amusing or crazy or irritating happens, i'll make a mental note that i should blog about it later--but i never 'draft' or plan my posts or anything. i just sit down, tell the story, and hit post.
this is often times problematic, because i hit post and re-read what i wrote and there are often VERY VERY VERY MANY MISTAKES. i just don't catch them until i see the post from a different angle, so to speak.
the point is, the first time someone i didn't know left me a comment, it was pete, and he read the post at the same time that i was re-reading it for mistakes, and therefore his first impression of me was surely that i could not spell or type worth shit.
i was very embarrassed, as you can see in the comments section of that post.
but, not so embarrassed, because i still blog the exact same way.
and pete is still around, so i guess it all worked out.

anyway, for your time-wasting enjoyment, i now present a list of blogging milestones i have passed on my way to this, my two hundredy-eth post:

thing one: where, after months and months of regular blogging, i finally learn how to make links and play with my template.

thing two: where i talk about something other than stupid little stories of my everyday life for the first time

thing three: my one humdredy-eth post, which i had no idea was my one hundredy-eth post when i wrote it. in fact, when i realized that i was at post #200, i thought it would be fun to link to #100, because i thought for sure it would be a story of something ridiculous i did at the bar, or a story of a bar guest who pissed me off,** or a post about nose spray or something. instead, it was my 9/11 post. so i guess that's kind of cool.

cripes, i'm really bored with this list.

so, i'll just say thanks to everyone who reads--especially those of you who comment!
i love the internet, and the internet = you guys.
i love writing my blog, and i love reading your blogs.
seriously. at the risk of totally geeking out here, i really feel like this whole blogging business enriches my life in a really important way.

i was sort of hoping that, as a two hundredy-eth post present, you might tell me what your favorite post is in the comments section. my blog has been sort of different lately--less ridiculous stories of everyday life, and more, i don't know, quasi-political stuff. so i'm interested to see what kind of posts you guys like best.
and if you need more persuasion, let me point out that only one of you left a valentine in my valentine mailbox.
so you totally owe me.
(whim, you are exempt, because you sent me a separate valentine)

*one of the other assignments was to build a web-page from scratch. you know, like actual html in a blank word-pad thing. it sucked so bad, i think i've blocked most of it out. as you have witnessed here, i can still make links. but that's about it.
anyway, if you are desperately in need of a good laugh, my extremely sad and pathetic little webpage can be seen here. although, i have to admit that there's still a tiny part of me that's proud that it consists of multiple working pages. of course, i have absolutely no clue how i managed to do that.

**it was a close call, though. this was the 99th post.

in which i require some help

2007-02-12T23:18:00.000-05:00

dear everyone,

i was just checking my sitemeter thing-thing (which only works 40% of the time and i have no idea why) when i saw that a few minutes ago someone came to my blog from here.

i have no idea what that is, but it seems to be talking about my blog.
does anyone know what this is?
if so, could you please explain it to me?

while i'm at it, i should probably ask someone to tell me what an rss feed is, too, because i also have no idea what that might be, but i keep seeing it around accompanied by various linky-button type things, and so i guess it might be important. or something.

yes, i know how to turn on my computer. why do you ask?

thanks for you help,
tiffany

i heart zoot, because zoot hearts the internet

2007-02-12T18:53:00.000-05:00

zoot hearts the internet, which is good, because when i read her i often find fun internet related things.

first it was the harry potter and the deathly hallows countdown thinger on display over in my sidebar, which i love with my whole heart. seriously. sometimes i just stare at it. but don't tell anyone.

and now, there's this:

Get your own valentinr

apparently this is some sort of valentine mailbox.
you sign up for it, and then people can send you valentines which you won't be able to see until valentine's day. which is, like the day after tomorrow. which is good, because if you're like me then waiting for things IS NOT GOOD AT ALL.

but anyway.
you know what is good?

getting valentines.

so send me one already!
and while you're at it, sign up so i can come over and send you one, too.
spread the love, people!

wheeeee!

check it out

2007-02-11T05:57:00.000-05:00

i can't wait until the sunday paper shows up later today, because the first letter on display is this one.

which i wrote.

now, i don't know if it's special if the editor-type-people wait to print your letter until sunday, and then put it first.
so you'll have to excuse me while i pretend that IT MEANS I RULE, and also while i allow myself to feel like I AM THE SHIT for a moment or two,

*
*
*

ok, i'm done.
to be honest, i'd started to think that they weren't going to publish my letter at all.
i mean, the first letter in friday's letter section thing was this one, which is not only about the same dispute, but also calls out the same city council member who i poke fun at in my letter.

i was a little concerned that i had already told everyone how excited i was, and the chances of my letter being published were looking pretty dismal.
i mean, how many letters ripping on the same city council lady are really necessary?

apparently, the answer is at least two.

so, hooray for me.
i wrote a letter, and it's in the paper today.

i know this won't seem like a big deal to everyone, but i'm going to go ahead and let myself be happy today.

p.s.
the city council meeting to hear our case is scheduled for 2/20, so i'll have some further updates for you then. i'd like to say that i would be ready to give them an earful, but i abhor speaking in front of people. so, that won't be happening.
anyway, it could really get interesting after the meeting: either they'll turn us down and i'll have quite a bit of bitching to do, or they'll approve us and we'll have 3 weeks to put an event together that we should have been working on for four months.
seriously, it's soooo nice for the council to make some time for us.

better then a two year old.

2007-02-10T15:24:00.000-05:00

~a few days ago, miss zoot shared a story about how she hates scary movies. i also hate scary movies, and i was going to leave a comment about one of my worse scary movie experiences, but i decided she probably wouldn't want a twelve page comment, so i decided to come back here and write my own post.~

ahem.

i hate scary movies. and when i say hate, what i mean is HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE.

john says i am like a two year old girl with tinkle in her diapers when it comes to watching scary movies, to which i say oh hell no, two year old girls have NOTHING on me. i mean, two year olds can't possibly comprehend the scariness of a scary movie. so, while they might be a little frightened if they see a monster or something, there is NO WAY that they are as scared as i am.

now, i don't want to go into detail about all the scary movie experiences i've been forced to suffer through in my life. like the time some of my friends decided to watch a freddy krueger movie at a sleepover when i was in 5th grade. i layed awake in my sleeping bag all night long, positive that i would not live through the night. i still have the occasional freddy krueger nightmare. seriously.
there was also the last unicorn, which traumatized the nights of my childhood in horrible, horrible ways.
i was just watching the trailer on youtube (through the tiny gaps between my fingers, which were clinched over my eyes) and john nearly peed his pants laughing at me for being scared OF A CARTOON MOVIE ABOUT A UNICORN.
so you can imagine how funny he thought it was when i told him that when i was little, i was afraid to get out of my bed to go to the bathroom at night because i thought that when you flushed the toilet, you had to run back to your bedroom as fast as you could and get completely covered by your blankets before the sound of the toilet flushing stopped--otherwise, the red bull could come out of the furnace in the basement and get you.

no, i am not kidding.

and anyway, none of that even comes close to the horror that this movie has brought into my life:

i actually rented this movie with some friends. i have no idea what on earth possessed me to do such a thing, but i will regret it for the rest of my entire life.
of all the messed up and embarrassing and hurtful things i've done in my life, i'm 97% sure that, if given the chance to go back and undo one thing, i would erase this movie from my memory. it seriously scares me that much.

the night that we watched it, we were sitting on a big sectional couch in a re-done basement.
as the movie progressed, all three of us became more and more frightened.
you could see us gradually getting more and more tense--pulling our feet up off the floor, tucking ourselves further and further underneath our blankets.
by the time the movie was 2/3 of the way over, all of us were done--we did not want to watch the movie anymore, but we were all too scared to get up and turn it off. (the batteries in the remote were dead)
so, like a bunch of jackasses, we sat there and watched until the end.

i swear, i have never been the same since--i mean, i nearly died once, because of this movie!
see, john used to live out in the middle of nowhere. i had to drive exactly 5 miles down a dirt road with nothing around everytime i went to go see him. it ALWAYS freaked me out to do this at night, so much so that i would always call when i was on my way, so that he could watch for me and come outside when i got there. if he wasn't outside, i would wait in my car because i was too scared to get out and walk across the huge lawn-ish area into the house.
one night, when i was on my way there, some kind of big bat or bird ran straight into the middle of my windsheild, wings out-stretched, just like what happens to richard gere and debra messing at the beginning of the movie.

i think i had a mild-stroke.
and then i drove 70 miles an hour the rest of the way DOWN A DIRT ROAD, unable to really see because i was crying so hard.

i have two words for you:
not. safe.

anyway, i wish i was kidding, but i seriously do not like scary movies.

i have gotten a little better,
hell--i now live in the basement, 6 feet away from the furnace where the red bull lives, and i swear i was only terrified for the first week. i'm totally fine now.

except, when i was finding the trailer for 'the mothman,' i did a youtube search and then i turned around and made john watch to find the right one. and when he turned the light off, i screamed (a little) TURN THE LIGHT BACK ON!!!!
because, you know, i can't write about scary things like freddy krueger and the last unicorn and the mothman in the dark.

these days, i'm still afraid of things, but i laugh at myself more than find myself traumatized by it.
on tuesday, i was laying in bed watching the beginning of the goonies, while john worked on the computer. he came to bed, and we talked about how much we like that movie. then we started to fall asleep, when i lifted my head up and said babe, you've got to turn the t.v. off. i can't go to sleep with this movie on, because it has scary stuff. and also skeletons.
he thought that was pretty funny, but he turned off the television anyway,
we layed there and laughed for a minute, and i said babe, turn the light on and hand me a pen, so i can remember to put that on my blog later.

he said, i can't turn on the light, because it's going to be too bright and it'll hurt my eyes.

to which i argued, no, it won't, because i've got my eyes covered.

and then we were laughing about something else entirely.

bitchier.

2007-02-08T11:18:00.000-05:00

apparently, there are people in the world who get irritated even more easily than i do.

and you can find them right here, bitching about a snickers ad aired during the superbowl, which they considered offensive and discriminatory toward gay people.

here's the commercial, in case you missed it:

and you might want to go ahead and watch it, because if you didn't see it sunday, you never will.
snickers has decided to pull the ad campaign--throwing millions of dollars straight into the garbage--in order to stop the bitchery.

you should really go read that article--it is well written, and the author does make some good points. well, kind of.

the thing is, i find the whole thing a little...ridiculous.

don't get me wrong.
i'm not a supporter of hate-language or gay-bashing or any other such nonsense.
in fact, i've cut people off at my bar more than once just because i heard them say the word 'fag.'

but, did we really have to toss this commercial in the trash can?

was it really that offensive?

i guess it's a tricky question. this thing we call 'good taste' exists precariously atop a very thin and fluid line. walking the line is a tightrope act--one that only gets trickier when we're dealing with hot-button issues like discrimination and hate-speak.

but, when i saw the commercial?
i felt that they were making fun of the homo-phobia of the men--not making fun of being gay, or assserting that being gay is 'gross.' i mean, the men look ridiculous! they look like morons. (they also look like they could use a bath. and maybe a visit with these guys.)

it ocurred to me later, after hearing about the controversy, that maybe most people wouldn't have interpretted the commercial the same way that i did. i mean, i'm not homo-phobic. in fact, i find homo-phobia ridiculous, and so i found the humor in the men's reaction and saw the commercial that way. i suppose if you are one of the millions of people out there who does think being gay is 'disgusting,' then it would be a totally different commercial to you.

it reminds me of the problem with sasha baron cohen, who takes on the persona of characters like ali g and borat, and uses humor to illuminate some of the darker tendencies of society, disguising himself in comedy to take our attention away from the mirror he's holding up right in front of our faces.

take the following clip, from cohen's show on hbo:

now, our higher sensibilities would initially be offended by the premise here--i mean, we're not *supposed* to laugh at things like anti-semitism, right?

the thing is, cohen is jewish himself, and this particular clip might be the best example of the aim of his comedy: to show how quickly you can get people to engage in hateful behavior. with ali g, it was to uncover the disdain and lack of respect that 'adults' (mainly those in high positions--governmental officials, members of nasa, media bigwigs, etc) hold toward the youth of the world. with borat, he uses the disguise of an ethnicity most of us would assume to be exactly as he plays it--a little backwards, a little sexist, you know the drill--to get 'us' to engage in the very behavior we find so dreadful when displayed in the form of 'the other.'

the clip above is the perfect example: borat shows up in a country bar, and after 20 seconds he has an enire bar full of people singing 'throw the jew down the well so my country can be free.'

it's ugly, but the point is made. we laugh, but we also get a twinge of disgust. it's funny, but it's also really sad.

personally, i think cohen is a genius.
but, i understand the problem that some people have with him: what about the people who don't get the joke?
what about the people who watch borat talking about his fat wife fulling the plow through the field, about how he bought her from her father for 3 gallons of incesticide, and the never ending pile of other sexist things he says, and then laugh because they think it's funny on the surface--without getting the deeper meaning.

in that sense, i can see why people might have a problem with the snickers superbowl commercial. the millions of men out there who watched and made a face like this one

are a problem. they are the types who don't get the joke.

but should snickers have to trash the commercial for them?

i mean, as sad as it is, straight men are allowed to be disgusted by watching 2 men kiss. i mean, i'm disgusted if i see my parents making out, but that doesn't mean that i think being hetero-sexual is wrong.

it seems to me that this commercial is not the breeder of negativity that these people thought it was.

but, i guess just like there will always be people who don't get the joke, there will always be people who can't take the joke.

putting the proverbial smack down

2007-02-06T12:53:00.000-05:00

on saturday, this article appeared in the ann arbor news, detailing the struggle a certain bar (which i normally try to keep nameless, so go ahead and forget about it right after you read this) in ann arbor has been going through with the city, trying to get a permit for a tent party on st. patrick's day.

anyway, even a quick read of the article shows the silliness of the arguments against our tent party--but i have to tell you that a lot more really silly things have been said in the history of this whole shenannigan, and it's all getting pretty annoying.

basically, the city is trying to argue that we shouldn't be allowed to profit from closing a street and selling alcohol, even though the bar across the street from us does the exact same thing (on the exact same street!) every year for oktoberfest.
and, we're only talking about a side street here. every august, the busiest section of MAIN STREET is shut down when our city hosts a huge national plumber's convention, so that they can HOLD A POKER TOURNAMENT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET.

the point is, it seems pretty clear to me that they aren't really against closing the streets and letting people make money from selling alcohol (and gambling! which is not legal here!), just against our business in particular.

anyhow, reading THE COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS CONCERNS OF SOME OF THE CITY COUNCIL MEMBERS really pissed me off.

so i wrote a letter to the editor.
oh, yes.
i sure did.

and here it is, for your reading pleasure:

In an article appearing February 3rd chronicling the controversy over The Arena Sports Bar and their would-be St. Patrick's Day/ March Madness street event, City Council Member Joan Lowenstein explained her opposition to the event by pointing out that an inflatable beer bottle--which was on display near the bar's tent last year--would promote excessive drinking.
I don't know how familiar Lowenstein is with St. Patrick's Day, but I feel confident in pointing out that an inflatable beer bottle can hardly be considered responsible for the heavy drinking undertaken by people all over the globe every March 17th.
I think we would be hard-pressed to find a single individual who was innocently walking the streets last year, off to study or do some grocery shopping or what-have-you, who then instead decided to get hammered after seeing the inflatable beer bottle.
Much like people pass out candy on Halloween, people drink on St. Patrick's Day. Inflatable beer bottles have nothing to do with it.

Further arguments from those in opposition to The Arena's tent event cite the possible youth of the age group who would be in attendence. Can any one else smell the age discrimination? Because I think it reeks in here.
We could begin by asking if those standing behind this argument have ever even been to The Arena, where a glance down the bar almost always reveals a line-up of middle-aged faces.
But every point I could make pales in comparison to this:
The legal drinking age is 21.
The college age crowd imagined by The Arena's opposition has as much of a right to party as the 'older' OktoberFest crowd whom they allow to party in the street every year.
If the City Council feels that 21 year olds are too young to drink, perhaps they should spend some time trying to change that law, and less time trying to neuter our local businesses.

i even used capital letters.
aren't you proud of me?

anyway, maybe i'll give you an update on this situation as new events unfold.
or maybe i'll get bored of it and you'll never hear of it again.

sigh.

update: they are going to publish my letter! maybe this is dumb, but I'm really excited. I did have to edit it a bit for them--apparently they have to keep it under 250 words, and my letter was a little wordy. big surprise, huh? anyway, i'll link to it when it shows up in the online news. i'm guessing it will be tomorrow.

you probably don't want to see this.

2007-02-05T23:59:00.000-05:00

i'm not kidding, this is your last chance to look away.

still here?

fine.

meet my right foot:

it's...a foot. nothing special, really--just 15 layers of pink toe-nail polish, because when it chips i just paint over it. and, really? that's on a good day. if it's not summer, they pretty much chip away into oblivion.
then there's my toe ring, which i got in islamorada a week after my 21st birthday. it hasn't been off my toe since. not even for 5 seconds. and i really hope it never falls off or breaks or anything, because i think i have a permaneant dent around my toe now.

not. sexy.

but anyway.
that's my right foot.
nothing special, just a normal happy old foot.

and then there's my left foot:

apparently this is what a foot will do, if you fall down the stairs and crunch it very badly.

it will also hurt a good bit.

so, this is my public service announcement:

don't fall down your stairs!

the end.

edited to add:
no, i was not drunk when i fell down the stairs. i was just a jackass. as usual.

wonders never cease

2007-02-04T13:52:00.000-05:00

in light of yesterday's post, i feel it's worth mentioning that today someone visited here via an entirely new set of google search terms: 'my sister peeing.'

i guess i'm just a dirty, dirty girl.
i might as well embrace it.

anyhow, i'm off to the kitchen to get started on some tasty snacks for the super bowl party i'm going to this evening.

bring on the gluttony!

googlicious

2007-02-03T08:01:00.000-05:00

so, we all know i'm not writing the great american novel here.

if i had to, i would probably say that this blog is made 90% of little stories about crazy people and things that i encounter in my day-to-day life, with a few deeper posts thrown in every once in a while.

it's not rocket science--i'm just a girl who thinks things would go a lot smoother if people would just bow down and do my bidding, already.

ahem. what?
no, i did not just say that.

anyway.

i've noticed a little trend here at 'if i were queen of the world.'
see, people don't often get here through any kind of a google search. i think most of my readers got here by clicking through from a commment i left somewhere else, or from a link to me on someone else's page.
i think it's only about once a week that someone ends up here through a google search. i guess if i were less lazy, i would try to figure out why that is, and how to make my blog a little more googlicious.

but, for now, i would simply like to ponder this fact:

9 times out of 10, if a google search leads someone here, the search was for either 'shit smearing' or 'poop smearing,' and the person is directly led to this entry, where--sadly--i do talk in some detail about that very thing.*

my feelings on this little phenomenon are mixed. on one hand, i'm glad that people are still sometimes finding my 'rules for acceptable bathroom behavior.' i mean, in the beginning--before i had more than two readers, before the memes, before the dreaded self-editing and everything else we take on when we begin to exist in any kind of public forum, the 'guide to acceptable bathroom behavior' post was really what this blog was meant to be about. it's not my best writing, but it does embody my original intent: tell a story of something in society (however trivial) that i don't like, and explain how it would be different if i were, in fact, queen of the world.
in the first five or six months that i started blogging regularly, i wrote a fair amount of posts which stuck to this format. for example, i had some advice for airline companies here and here, while here and here i offered some rules for proper restaurant and bar behavior. sometimes i needed to vent about a dumb t.v. show, and other times i offered advice to a fellow classmate who was extremely socially inept.
and, you know? i like all of those posts. (even though this one is my favorite)
still, on the other hand, there's a part of me that feels a little let down by the 'shit smearing' phenomenon.
i mean, with all of the crap i've said here, is this really the only google worthy phrase i've ever written?

oh well.

in the end, i guess it comes down to this:

i don't know who these people are, or why they are so interested in 'shit smearing,' but i hope once google leads them my way, they leave with the important lesson that one should never, under any circumstances, smear their poop on any surface, at any time, for any reason. and if that's the only thing i have to offer the world? well, i still think it's valuable.

*when i say '9 out of 10 times,' that is--of course--a rough estimate. because i am terrified of all things mathematical.

easing back into the blogosphere

2007-02-02T04:06:00.000-05:00

so, yeah.
i should be writing about some nonsense or another already. I KNOW.

but...
i don't know.
i still feel a little blah.

so, for the sake of posting, i present the meme-thing i was tagged with weeks ago. (thanks, star!)

1. If you could build a house anywhere, where would it be? well, it depends. do i need to have a career, or am i so wealthy that i can build a house and then just chill out forever? because, were it not for the whole 'making something of one's self' thing, i would have moved to key west A LONG ASS time ago.

2. What's your favorite article of clothing? at the moment? my fleecy polar bear pajama pants and my uggs. but that's a decision based purely in comfort, not in hotness. obviously.

3. Favorite physical feature of the opposite sex? sigh. I DON'T KNOW! it changes every time. seriously. although, i suppose i have a pretty consistent 'thing' for shaggy hair. mmmmmmm.

4. What's the last CD that you bought? what is a c.d.? but really, i don't think i've bought a c.d. in five years or something. and no, it's not because i'm stealing all my music.

5. Where's your favorite place to be? watching our band at dirty harry's in key west. or, anywhere in key west. if not, at my computer or snuggling.

6. Where is your least favorite place to be? on an airplane. or, lying in bed awake all night when i have to work in the morning.

7. What's your favorite place to be massaged? the ouchy spot on my back. it's kind of between my spine and my left shoulder blade. it hurts ALL OF THE TIME, and i can often be seen rubbing up against corners and stuff, trying to get it to stop hurting. it never works, though.

8. Strong in mind or strong in body? i don't get it...are we talking about me, or are we talking about what i think is important? at any rate, a nice body is fun, but if you're dumb? well, you're dumb. and what can i do with that?

9. What time do you wake up in the morning? i go to bed in the morning.

10. What is your favorite kitchen appliance? blender? no...microwave. for sure.

11. What makes you really angry? far too many things.

12. If you could play any instrument, what would it be? I DO PLAY AN INSTRUMENT!

13. Favorite color? brown. and dark red.

14. Which do you prefer...sports car or SUV? mini fuel efficient SUVs, like mine.

15. Do you believe in an afterlife? i believe in the possibility of an afterlife.

16. Favorite children's book? the paper bag princess.

17. What is your favorite season? fall. especially with a pot of captain morgan's and apple cider simmering on the stove.

18. Your least favorite household chore? all. of. them. oh, except cooking. i like to cook. i just prefer if someone else cleans up the mess.

19. If you could have one super power, what would it be? hmmm. sounds complicated. how about--make peace? is that a super power?

20. If you have a tattoo, what is it? i don't have a tattoo. but i have seriously been considering getting a little pink crown tattoo'd on me somewhere. any suggestions?

21. Can you juggle? um, no. half of the time i can't even catch one thing that is being gently tossed directly to me.

22. The one person from your past that you wish you could go back and talk to? my dad, and my grandmas. obviously.

23. What's your favorite day? lately it's been friday nights, even though we haven't really been out in forever.

24. What's in the trunk of your car? i don't really have a trunk--but, the 'storage area' is full of books and shoes. my two favorite things!

25. Which do you prefer, sushi or hamburger? preferably neither. i don't eat seafood, so sushi is out. and, no--i don't want to try a california roll, either. i know it's not fish--technically. but, it looks like fish and it smells like fish. so, no. as for hamburger--i do eat meat, but calling it hamburger sounds gross. *a* hamburger? maybe. but thinking of a big trough of ground meat called hamburger? grody. and also, no thanks.

p.s.
i tag everyone reading this.
that's right, every last one of you.
now get to work!!

still breathing

2007-01-31T06:39:00.000-05:00

it's a little known fact that, when suffering from the flu, one tends to vomit up one's creativity, along with every single ounce of fluid in one's body.

i mean, i have been so sick, I COULDN'T EVEN WATCH T.V., PEOPLE.
seriously.
that was disturbing.

anyhow--i don't want to speak too soon, but i think i may be feeling better.
i just woke up, and this was the first time since saturday night that i was able to sleep for more than 75 minutes at a time.

i slept for 4 hours and 45 minutes!

amazing.

AND!
I DON'T FEEL LIKE I'M ABOUT TO VOMIT ON MYSELF!

my stomach hurts, yes.
but i'm not nauseated, and i'm not dizzy.
i am currently sitting upright.

i even feel thirsty.
crazy.

i may survive this, after all.*

*when more energy finds it's way into my body (something which surely requires more liquid of any sort finding it's way in), i should maybe tell you about how my doctor scared me shitless and made me believe i was going to die yesterday.
it was fun.

another letter

2007-01-29T22:33:00.000-05:00

dear inernet:

did you know that there's a stomach bug going around?

did you know that it's possible to keep puking even if you haven't eaten anything for more than 30 hours?

it is.

now i have to go before i vomit on my pretty new computer or fall out of my chair or something.

xoxoxo,
tiffany

never enough

2007-01-26T18:17:00.000-05:00

even though today is friday--a night designated for partying--i decided to stay in THE ENTIRE DAY. well, i did go to the bank and the grocery store, but i returned home as fast as i could and put my pajamas back on, and settled in to begin working on a bunch of projects i should have started a long time ago.

i even let john borrow my car until tomorrow, so i'm REALLY not going anywhere. there is a lot of work i could get done: some changes i want to make to my blog, a sales-rewards system i should be figuring out for work (because it's supposed to launch on sunday), and blah blah other stuff, blah.

so far, i've taken a jacuzzi, watched a show about the mysteries of the bermuda triangle, and read a bunch of blogs.*

that was all really great.
but then the day took a turn for the worse.

it all started when i got a call from a maral volunteer, who wanted to know if i could donate some money. now, nine times out of ten if you call me and ask me for a donation (or to get me to pay a late bill...), you will have no luck because i won't have any money in my checking account.
today, i do have money in my checking account, so when he asked me if i would like to make a contribution, i said yes and got my debit card out of my wallet.

then he went on to tell me about a 'contribtution plan' of some sort that they were recommending people should sign up for.
in order to sign up for this plan, you have to donate SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS now, and another SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS would automatically be withdrawn from your account in six months, FOR A GRAND TOTAL OF TWELVE HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR THE YEAR.

let me just say that, when i pulled my debit card out of my wallet, i was thinking more along the lines of a TWENTY FIVE DOLLAR donation.

but, after his 'little request,' i seriously felt like any donation i could make was inadequate.
after he was finished explaining the 'contribution plan,' he asked so, is this something that works with your budget?
i think i laughed a little, and said sir, i'm really sorry, but that is so far outside of my budget that i just had a stroke thinking about it. he seemed a little miffed, which is why when he asked me exactly how much i could donate, i said fifty dollars instead of the twenty-five dollar amount that i originally had in mind. which was ridiculous, because fifty dollars is not really much closer to twelve hundred dollars than twenty-five dollars is. in the process of doing this i explained to the man that this cause is really important to me, and that i wished i could help more financially, but it just wasn't possible. i explained that i would be more than happy to volunteer some of my some time, if they had any need for that. and then he asked me if they could automatically withdraw another fifty dollars from my account in six months. i was so pissed, i couldn't even believe it. and then, in order to show this man how upset i was that he was asking me for more money when i'd just told him how broke i was, i told him yes.

seriously, people.
this has been a recurring problem in my life.
i have a really hard time telling people 'no.'
so, if you need something, just ask me. i'll probably do it. i just won't be happy about it.

anyway, what really made me mad about this exchange is that i really mean it when i say i would volunteer for this organization. my sister and my mom and i went with a bus caravan that they put together a few years ago, to D.C. for the march for women's lives. i have signed a million forms and petitions, signed up to volunteer twenty different times, and even called a few times during elections seasons to see if they needed help with anything--licking stamps, making calls, whatever.

they never wanted any help--just my money.
and, that's fine.
i don't have much money, but i always help when i can.
i just don't appreciate being made to feel inadequate about whatever money i can spare.

when i pulled out my debit card to make a donation today, i felt good.
i felt really happy to help a cause that i really believe in.

4 minutes later, when i put my debit card away, that good feeling was gone.
i felt...yucky.

to be honest, it reminded me of the homeless people that often come up to me on the streets of ann arbor.
i usually keep a few dollars in my pocket, so if someone asks me for money i can give it to them without opening my purse. now, we could have a never ending argument about whether or not i should give money to homeless people, especially since i now reside in my parent's basement. but, for me, it is simple: if i walk by someone and ignore them, i feel far worse about that than i feel about losing two dollars. so, nine times out of ten, i give a person money. especially if i'm walking somewhere by myself at night--i find it's the best way to end an encounter and walk away as quick as possible.
anyway, the thing about homeless people in ann arbor is--you never seem to give them enough. the other day a guy walked up to me and said if you can give me $9.50. i can get two orders of french toast at the fleetwood. and, more often than not, if i hand someone a dollar or two, they say come on, don't you have some more in your purse?
seriously. i know it sucks to be homeless and poverty is a huge problem and it's terrible and all that.
but doesn't this seem like a bit much?

anyway, that was the first yucky thing that happened today.
i returned to the blogosphere to cheer myself up.

and then i found this blog, by way of amalah's mommyblog round-up.
and then i sat in front of my (wonderful, beautiful, and fabulous in every way) computer, crying, as i read every entry.
you should go read it for yourself, if you don't mind becoming completely depressed for the moment. but i'm sure they could really use all the good energy that people must be sending their way, as their story makes it's way through the internet.
what struck me the most was how, in the course of one week (although certainly it often happens much faster than that) one's life can change beyond recognition.
my heart is just aching for this family. but, in a way, i guess that's not a bad thing. it's good to let your heart ache for other people once in a while. it gets you out of your own everydayness.

and when i say 'everydayness,' i mean stuff like this:

this is me, using my (wonderful, beautiful, and fabulous in every way) computer camera thing-thing to investigate the oldness of my face.
why?
because this evening when i went to the grocery store, i bought a bottle of vodka and WAS NOT ASKED FOR MY I.D. FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER. now, of course when i go to bars where people know me, i don't get carded. but at liquor stores and grocery stores and such? not only do i always get carded, but--more often than not--the cashier asks me for my identification in a way which leads me to believe that they really don't think i'm going to have one.
apparently those days are over.
something horrible has apparently happened since last week, and i now look old.
so i couldn't help but spend some time investigating my face when i got home. i won't say how long i spent doing this, but you can go ahead and assume that i took more than just the two pictures above.

oh, in the second one, i'm doing a thorough study of what i believe is the culprit in this 'oldness' situation--the nasty wrinkle in between my eyebrows.**

~if you have any other ideas about what looks old about my face, feel free to NOT MENTION THEM. thanks.~

anyway, a few other depressing things happened as well. i don't want to go into detail, because i'm ready to do something else now. the best way to put it is to say that i had a few experiences that made me sad about the state of humanity--which is very depressing sometimes.
i was watching this story, about children growing up in poverty, and i was particularly touched by the stories of moochie and the irrestiable ivan. it was...heartbreaking.

and then there was the story i read over at whimsicalnbrainpan.
her story is worth reading, you guys. i hope she doesn't mind me pointing you in her direction, i really don't--and if i find out it's a problem i'll delete this as fast as i can. but, i know a considerable number of my readers already know her story. for those of you who don't, i urge you to visit her blog and read her 'fire' entries. she is a great writer, with a great story; it's a brutally honest story of survival, with none of the sappy, swelling music in the background. it's just the truth, and the truth is hard for everyone, even people whose situations aren't as difficult as hers. cheers to her for her ability to tell it like it is--to herself, and to us.
now, i know she doesn't want my pity about any of the things she's been through. and, what struck me the most about her story was that what i really got sad about, throughout the whole thing, was when i was thinking about the person responsible for what happened to her. what really got me down--what really took me to a bad place--was being forced to recognize the absolute evil that exists in the world. it's sickening--just absolutely physically sickening.

so, anyway.
that was my day.

how was yours?

*oh. i just re-read this and i suppose it should be noted that i originally started writing this at about 4pm, but then i saved it as a draft and did other stuff for a long time. but now you have an even more detailed account of what i did all day. hooray for blogging!

**which b.g. always loved to tease me about, when it first appeared. but, now? nature has intervened. b.g. is having a baby, and what do children do? they give you wrinkles. or, at least that's what my mom always told me.

and then there was one

2007-01-26T00:53:00.000-05:00

this evening, i returned from work, triumphantly.

with the blue box.

you know what this means, right?

WE'RE HAVING A GIRL!!!

A MINI -B.G.!!!!!
WITH A LITTLE TIMMER MIXED IN!!!!!

of course, now you can tell that i wanted a girl. but, for the record, i would have adored a baby boy, too. in fact, in the long run a boy might have been better for my bank account--i don't know, i just find it harder to resist buying tiny little girl clothes. (and shoes! omg, the shoes.)

b.g. and timmer were totally convinced they were going to have a boy. (i think mostly because when b.g. and i were in key west in july a very old palm-reader guy told her that she was going to have two boys. to be honest, i was a little worried that it would turn out to be true--the thing is, i remember being at the palm reader and being really blown away by what he told me. unfortunately, i can't remember a damn thing he said. because i was drunk. yes, me. don't act all surprised. anyway, now that i know he wasn't spot-on in his predictions, i can stop mourning the loss of those memories. bonus.)

i really wish i could have seen the looks on their faces when the technician told them they were having a girl. seriously, that is a memory i wouldn't mind having. but they did a few re-enactments for me, so i guess that's good enough.

what i will always remember is how incredibly excited i was all day today. i had to go into work at 10:30, and they didn't show up until about 4. (their appointment was at 2.) while i waited, i paced around the restaurant like a lunatic, and watched out the window for their car. seriously, i found myself peeking out the window at 2:25. you know, just in case.
and remember the two boxes? i re-arranged them about four thousand times--one end of the bar to the other, on a table, on another table, on top of the red bull cooler, and back again. my boss was highly entertained.

but then they showed up and didn't tell us for 8 whole minutes!
i thought my head was going to explode.

in the end, the whole thing was completely perfect. both of our bosses were there, and we had j-flo on the phone. when they FINALLY decided to tell us the news, b.g. got up to pick a box. as she was walking over, our boss made a 'tubby-ass' joke of some kind. she responded i'm not tubby! i'm pregnant with a..., and then the trickster reached toward the blue box, and at the last minute reached over, grabbed the pink box, and shouted WITH A GIRL!!!!!!

oh my god, it was so awesome.

i'm just really glad that there wasn't anyone else in the restaurant at that time, so they didn't see me go completely nuts.
i yelled NO WAY!, and then OH MY GOD, SHE PICKED THE PINK BOX! SHE PICKED THE PINK BOX! OH MY GOD, PINK! PIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINK! oh yeah, and there was also the jumping and the dancing. and then we all did a celebratory shot, and we even let b.g. have a shot of sprite.

it was a good day.
it was a really, really good day.

she's having a baby

2007-01-24T23:54:00.000-05:00

no, not me!

her:

oh yeah, and that guy she's with is involved, too. hi timmer!

anyway.
the girl pictured above is b.g.
if you've been reading for a while, you will recognize her as my best friend.
she's been metioned here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and also here. and that's a lot.

b.g. probably knows me better than anyone else in the whole world. we lived together for a little over 5 years, and i swear she knows things about me that no one else has any idea about. and thank god for that!
she knows things about me that i wish i didn't even know about myself--you know, those really ugly parts of ourselves that we try to pretend don't exist? the insecurites and fears and angers that we try not to let motivate us? yeah, she totally knows when they're motivating me. i can't fool that girl for one second.

and she loves me anyway. and i love her, too--even though she could say all the same things about me.
i really think that's saying a lot, when someone knows those parts of you, and they don't run screaming from the room.

but, anyway.

b.g. is having a baby, which is pretty much the hugest thing which can ever happen to a person.*
tomorrow, she and baby-daddy will find out what flavor the baby will be.

afterwards, they are going to stop by and visit me at work, so she can tell me in person what flavor of baby they are having.

i'm going to surprise them by setting out these two boxes:

then, they can choose the appropriate box** (yes, we are overlooking stereotyping for this one) and open it. i will know if the baby is going to be a boy or a girl, and they will have their first pink or blue baby clothes.

i also have this little treat for them, which can be enjoyed by both boy and girl babies:

in fact, i think i enjoy it quite a bit myself. i hope i don't accidentally keep it.
that wouldn't be very nice.

anyhow, the point is, i'm so excited for tomorrow, i think i might pee my pants.
(but, you probably guessed that already).

oh, and here's a picture of me and b.g. and j-flo:

i'm the only non-pregnant person in that picture, and that kind-of makes me happy enough to pee my pants, too.
you can tell because i'm the only one holding a glass of champagne, even though this picture was taken on new year's eve. the crown, however, is completely unrelated to who may or may not be pregnant. i have the crown BECAUSE I RULE, and it really is as simple as that.

p.s.
you guys? you know how they say that pregnant women glow?
tell me that b.g. isn't glowing in both of those pictures. i mean, i've been looking at her for years, and i think she's never looked as vibrant. but, you guys? some of you have seen some drunk pictures of her (from before she was pregnant, thank you) on this blog before...but i think she's so glowing, that even a person who has never seen her before would notice. so, what do you guys think. is she, or is she not glowing?

*this isn't to say that one's life is destined to be empty and meaningless if one doesn't have children, i just think that the single act of having a child probably changes one's life in a bigger way than anything else could.

**umm, yeah. i like ribbon. a lot. it makes me very happy. last christmas, my mom broke her wrist and the night before christmas eve i spent about 6 hours wrapping presents--about ten or so gifts that i had for people, and about a million that she was giving away. it was the best. ribbon everywhere. fabulous.

who decided that this man should ever be allowed to speak? oh, yeah. it was us. oops!

2007-01-23T20:52:00.000-05:00

ok, so we're about 6 minutes away from gwb's 6th state of the union adddress.
here's hoping that we get to see some fun stuff like this...

i think i'm going to go make myself a drink.

8:59pm they were just talking about how this might be the most hostile audience at a state of the union address since nixon. if gwb were a smart man, he would have made sure the audience had the proper supplies.
see below.

because, i don't like that man, but i can tell you that i'm not feeling hostile at all.
not yet, anyway.

9:09pm here he comes. i got a little bit of a pukey feeling when i saw his smug little face, but no hostility.

9:12pm i must say, it's pretty awesome to see the first woman speaker EVER introduce the president. whether you're liberal or conservative--this is definitely a historical moment. and gw is being awfully gracious. good for him. hostility level? still zero.

9:16pm 3 minutes down, no major speaking problems yet. i can feel it coming though, can't you?

9:17pm no, i don't feel bad for saying that.

9:18pm we should balance the federal budget? what? i've never heard such a thing! you are such an innovator! especially since you just said you can do it without raising taxes--oh, wait, i just got a song stuck in my head. it goes like this: liar, liar, pants on fire...

9:20pm he made a joke. and didn't suck. ear marks do suck, though. so i guess i just agreed with him on something.

9:21pm you know, i've never met anyone who worked in a public school (and i know a lot of them) who didn't think 'no child left behind' was a terrible idea.
***my mom just said you can teach chimpanzees to pass tests. is that all that matters?

9:24pm health insurance is a good thing. other than that, i have no idea what's going on right now.

9:27pm ooooh, here comes the immigration part.

9:27pm still raise your hand if you can't trace your family heritage back to immigrants who came here from some place or another.
***come on, i know there must be at least one or two of you out there!

9:29pm did he just say we need to uphold the tradition of the melting pot, by helping immigrants assimilate into our society? i thought i heard him say that. hmmmm.

9:31pm bio-diesel fuel...grass...woodchips...blah blah....no idea what's going on. wait...reduce dependency on foreign oil? reduce ammount of oil we use? am i hallucinating? seriously, i've only had, like, 3 sips of my drink so far.

9:33pm holy poop, i think i just heard gw say the words 'global climate change' in a way that made it sound like he actually believes it could possibly exist. is it my birthday? i'm seriously a little freaked out right now.

9:35pm now we're talking about 'taking the fight to the enemy.'

9:36pm can't we all just get along?

9:36pm alright, here's the gw i know, providing us with a long list of terrorist threats we should be crapping our pants over.

9:41pm this is me, TOTALLY BORED OUT OF MY MIND WITH HEARING ABOUT THIS FUCKING WAR.

9:43PM iraq iraq iraq hezbollah syria iraq iraq iraq sunni legitimate government sectarian violence it's the fight we're in we all wish this war was over and won but it doesn't make sense to leave now and abandon our friends* blah blah towards victory blah.
*yeah, packing up and moving all our troops right at this very second probably isn't a good idea. but is it really any more nonsensical than starting this war to begin with?

9:46pm insurgents and roaming death squads. yummy!!!

9:47pm i have to pee.

9:48pm yes, i understand that failure in iraq would be bad. that it would make us look bad, and leave the region really unstable. but, we look really bad NOW. and the region is really unstable NOW. for the record, i'm not saying i have a better idea--i'm just saying six in one, a half dozen in another. but, if one of those six includes LESS DEATH AND DESTRUCTION...i'd probably choose that one. call me sentimental.

9:49pm sweeeeeeeet, he just threatened us with 9/11 again. and i would too, if i were him. we bow down like a bunch of cowards and go along with anything when threatened with that stuff.

9:52pm dude. i totally think gw is, like, listening to my thoughts. i just said i was bored of hearing about the war in iraq, and so now he's talking about how we have to stop iran! he is so considerate of my feelings.

9:54pm dude. he just mentioned darphur. maybe he really is reading my mind.

9:56pm ELIMINATE POVERTY!!!!! sounds good. let's do it.

9:57pm still have to pee.

9:58pm missing and exploited children make me very sad.

9:59pm yay for this julie lady who is doing something i didn't quite hear to help missing and exploited children. also, yay for this guy who jumped in front of a train or something to save someone.

10:00 i don't understand war, at all. i wish we could do away with it altogether. still, i can't help but get i little bit teary when i see the entire congress turned around to applaud that sergeant that they had seated up next to laura and lynne. i'm sure he deserved it, and i hope it was as special a moment for him as it looked.

10:02 and he's done.

10:04pm and i'm going potty.

p.s. i really feel that none of you should be denied the rule that d.b. echo came up with for the state of the union drinking game:

If the President uses the word “nucular” at any point, stand up and shout at the TV “IT’S ‘NUCLEAR’, YOU F***ING MORON! NUUU-KLEEE-ERRRR! HOW HARD IS THAT TO PRONOUNCE???!!!” Drink the entire contents of the nearest bottle of alcohol and hurl the empty bottle at the TV. Then stomp off to bed, cursing the more than six million fellow-morons who voted for Bush in 2004. Lie awake wondering how you’ll pay for a new TV.

seriously, it is a good thing i had just gone to the bathroom, otherwise we all know what would have happened.

things to come

2007-01-23T09:23:00.000-05:00

just a friendly reminder...
i will be live-blogging the state of the union address tonight.

of course, what that means is that for fifteen minutes i will get pissed and say mean things about the president, and then i will get bored and talk about my toe-ring. or something.

anyway, i think john stewart put it best last night on the daily show,

when he said:
"the state of the union address matches two bitter rivals: the president of the united states, and words. as we speak, words hold a 3:2 advantage."

if you didn't see it, i strongly suggest that you check it out, by clicking his handy-dandy link that i've made just for you.

happy tuesday, internet!

the thing about hillary

2007-01-22T23:59:00.000-05:00

i should preface this story by stating that, if hillary clinton were to become the democratic candidate in the next presidential election, i would absolutely vote for her.
hands down.

the thing is, i don't want her to run.

not because i think she would do a bad job, but because i don't think i can handle two years of overhearing things like this:

saurday night, i was bartending, as usual.
we have three huge flatscreen television screens behind the bar, each of which was showing a different sporting event.
one of the games ended, and the news came on.
an image of hillary clinton appeared on the screen--an image, mind you. you couldn't hear what she was saying, because the volume wasn't on.

anyway, she hadn't been on the screen for 10 seconds when a man sitting at my bar YELLED 'oh, no fucking way. change the channel right now, i am not watching this blonde bitch.'
we all know how much i enjoy being spoken to in this manner, so i was already getting pissed off, of course.

i changed the channel anyway, though. mostly because i thought i might have to punch somebody in the face if i had to listen to that guy run his mouth anymore.

sadly, it was a wasted effort.

another guy at my bar decided to talk about how ridiculous it is to think that there could ever be a woman president.
his main argument was that if we had a woman president, we would be nuking another country once a month, when said woman got pms.

so, the thing is, i really don't want to have to claw my own ear drums out of my head.
but i may very well do just that, if i have to listen to people talk like this.

and, you know what?
they will.

it will be brutal, it will be relentless, and it's already making me absolutely sick to my stomach.

p.s.
does this guy really think that hillary is still even getting her period? seriously, it's fucking absurd.
p.s.2
great. i have larry king on the t.v. behind me, and i swear he just said 'up next, we chat with so-and-so about senator hillary clinton throwing her hat--or, should i say, her bonnet--into the ring.'
so, yeah. that's nowhere near as bad as the 'nuking pilosophy,' but, still.
no, larry. you should not say bonnet. ass-hat.

supermodel or superfreak?

2007-01-22T22:33:00.000-05:00

apparently my little sister found the 'photo booth' thinger on my new computer, and figured out that there are about sixty thousand ways to distort your face.

here is some of the evidence:

i think she liked it, because there are approximately sixty million more pictures just like these.
i'm sure she'll be super glad that i've shared them with you.

oh, and here's what she looks like without the spoecial effects:

yeah, that's not distortion. she looks like a jackass naturally, i guess.

a warning

2007-01-21T18:50:00.000-05:00

so, i feel i should warn you guys that i feel a few political entries coming on.

last week i started thinking that i might 'live-blog' the state of the union address.
i mean, how fun would that be?
so that was kind of already on the burner, so to speak. add that to the fact that i've ALREADY heard my first (and second and third) blatantly sexist and crude remark regarding hillary clinton's announcement of a presidential run , and the fact that john finally came out and told me what he thought of the recent turnover of affirmative action here in michigan,* and yeah--that's quite a few political entries, all of which i'm itching to write RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND.

so, before any of these entries appear, i would like to make it clear that i really have no idea what i'm talking about, most of the time. sure, i minored in political science, but that's mostly theory. if you want a summary of the republic or the leviathan or the social contract and how they did and did not shape our democracy, i'm your girl. i can also help with any essays concerning the romantic rebellion in britain, dickens, post-colonial literature, and postmodernism--most of the concepts of literary theory and lingistics can also be discussed in some detail. need an essay on something i haven't covered? well, of it's only a 100 or 200 level class, i can probably get you at least an A-minus. my bullshitting skills are NOT to be underestimated. seriously.**

anyway, the point is this (maybe)...

you might very well disagree with my 'political entries.'
here's a hint--if you like GWB and think he's doing a fine job as president, you will almost certainly not agree with me.
and i'm totally ok with that, if you are. i have plenty of friends who couldn't disagree with me more. in fact, i hear this statement at least once a week, 'oh tiffany, as soon as you actually have some money, you'll be a republican.'
which? i hope not. i mean, the fact that someone would make that statement basically emphasizes one of the main things that keeps me out of the republican category. but, whatever.

the thing is, if you disagree, or i say something that super pisses you off, just keep it in the back of your mind that i honestly do already know how big of an idiot i am. i am no sort of expert on any of the political things that i discuss--i only have opinions, not facts. there may be certain facts i can use to back up my opinions. but, likewise, there will be facts available to back up opposite opinions.

the universe is cool like that, you know?

i guess it could be best said that, my blog is called if i were queen of the world, not i am the queen of the world, now bow down before me, bitches.

so, anyway, yeah. i guess that's about it.
consider yourselves warned.

*as it turns out, john is totally glad that affirmative action was reversed in michigan in the mid-term elections. i suspected this before, but i didn't actually KNOW his opinion before last week, because john is very smart and he knows that when he disagrees with me, he isn't supposed to speak. anyway, last week we were listening to talk radio and i swore at the talker-guy for saying something about people whining about affirmative action, and john decided to 'school me' in why affirmative action is horrible. (his story, for he record, is that affirmative action is bad because you can't fight racism with racism. but, more on that later). my favorite part of the conversation was when he told me that he voted the way he knew i was going to vote, even though he didn't agree with it. now, people? i did not tell him to do that. but i do think it was mighty considerate of him, so i had to forgive him for otherwise being an asshole about the issue.

**i'm not proud of this (well, i am in some ways...) but, the semester my dad died, i had 18 credit hours. one of my classes was lit 450--recent trends in british and american literature. there were 22 novels on the syllabus, and i didn't read a single one of them. since then, i've read 18 of them, because i'm kind-of ridiculous like that. but, during the semester, i just couldn't do it. but i still got an A in the class, because i went everyday and listened to the class discussions and then wrote kick-ass essays. i never even had to tell my teacher what was going on with my dad. so, anyway, if you need some good bullshitting, just let me know. i'm available.

in which i'm very glad that my computer chair is super-comfy.

2007-01-20T04:49:00.000-05:00

yes, i'm still staring at my computer.
what of it?

because sleeping dogs have no business lying down

2007-01-20T04:05:00.000-05:00

i stumbled across this video tonight, while i was experiencing HOURS AND HOURS AND HOURS of enjoyment in front of my new imac. anyway, it seemed fated that i would find this after the discussion that unfolded* in my comments section yesterday. so, in the name of absolute ridiculousness, i now present a video that says 'the eff word' A LOT.

and, people?
BE WARNED!!!!

this is a video montage chronicling every time 'the eff word' is used in The Big Lebowski. so, i don't know if you've seen that movie, but if 'the eff word' makes you gag? i would not watch this video.
i promise i'm going to post something else in a few minutes, so you can entertain yourself in a less vulgar fashion.

*and, when i say 'unfolded', what i mean is, i got a little defensive. but, at the same time, i thought out and explained my feelings on an issue that i've been thinking about for a while. at some point, every blogger has to consider their boundaries--when and why and how much to self-edit. it's really a never-ending process. so, yesterday was just another brick in the wall, i suppose.

the view from here

2007-01-20T01:25:00.000-05:00

mere hours ago, i existed in a state of computer sadness.
i spent hours checking emails and blogging and myspacing and whatnot--well, okay, i would have done that anyway...but i spent EXTRA hours due to the unfathomable slowness of my old computer. which had also started making a scary 'i may die any day now' type of noise.

but now, life has been changed entirely.
no, i'm not exaggerating. how could you insinuate such a thing?
in fact, i feel a little bit like the queen of the world.

please say hello to the big glowing box of happiness.

and, when i say 'big' glowing box of happiness, i totally mean it...

see? i had to take out a whole shelf on my computer desk, just so my lovely computer could fit into its new home.

no, i'm not bragging! how could you insinuate such a thing?

anyway.
so that's what my new computer looks like.

oh, and apparently, this is what i look like to my new computer:*

and, no...i'm not pissed off.
that, friends, is the face of a girl falling in love.
with a piece of machinery.

anyway, cheers internet!
it's been a good day in tiffanyland!

*although, my computer is watching me? that's a little creepy. i mean, do i have to brush my hair everytime i want to check my email now? i guess as long as i have my coach purse sitting near me, i'll be fine.

best. day. ever.

2007-01-19T17:06:00.000-05:00

attention, internet:
this is the very last post i will ever write from this computer.

i think i just peed my pants.

why?

because the fed ex guy just got here with my new imac.

i think i might have scared him a little bit, what with the way i came running out the door.
jumping.
and screaming.

i also hugged him a little.

anyway, i have to go now, so i can take this piece of crap computer off my desk and replace it with the new computer of glory and wonder, which is currently waiting for me on the kitchen counter.

see you in a few.

fuck yahoo*

2007-01-18T05:42:00.000-05:00

so, i'm not making a political or scientific statement here, at all--i'm just saying that when i turn on the internet, THIS QUAINT LITTLE STORY THAT POPPED UP ON THE YAHOO HOME-PAGE-THING-THING is MOST DEFINITELY NOT WHAT I WANT TO SEE.

i'm just saying.

so, on that note...

****

dear yahoo,
why don't you just put a big red blinking sign on your home-page-thing-thing that says 'attention people! you will all be dead soon!'
seriously.
perhaps you weren't aware of this before, but i do not deal well with scary things such as doom's day clocks which are being sped up.
i'm pretty sure i already exist in a constant state of near-nervous-breakdownness, so if you could just keep that in mind, that would be great.
thanks,
tiffany

****
*ok, i'm sorry that i just had to say 'fuck' to you. and in the title, no less.
if you've been reading this blog for a while, you may have noticed that i've been saying 'fuck' a lot less than i used to. i mean, i haven't given it up altogether--i've just been using it less. but seriously. it seemed appropriate in this case.

confessions

2007-01-15T23:50:00.000-05:00

so, i have something to tell you guys.

i read 'mommy-blogs.'

i'm not a mommy, i'm not planning on becoming a mommy--at least not anytime soon, but i read mommyblogs. everyday.

i think it started when i stumbled across amy's blog, over at amalah.com. i wish that i could remember how exactly i found it, but i can't. i do remember that it was something ridiculous--like i googled something, looking for some piece of information or another for a paper i was working on for school, and it led me to her blog. i wasn't really into blogs yet at that time, but i did go back and check it out every once in a while.

it wasn't until she wrote this post, about being pregnant for the first time and seeing her baby on the ultrasound, that i got hooked.
i mean, when she captions one of the pictures of her baby's skull on the ultrasound with 'I AM SKELETOR, FROM THE PLANET EYE SOCKET FURY OMICRON 8. ALL YOUR CHEERIOS ARE BELONG TO US?' i was hooked. i mean, is that not the funniest thing you've ever read?

so, while i liked amalah before, i didn't start to love her until she was a 'mommyblogger.' i think it's coincidence, but a fact, nonetheless.

anyway, obviously my love for her blog makes sense, because as it turns out, a lot of people love her and that is why she got to quit her job and stay at home, with her son (who is no longer in utero), where people pay her to blog.
seriously, how awesome is that?

anyway, the whole reason that i'm confessing my 'mommyblog love' is because of something i found on one of the blogs that amy now gets paid to write.

earlier today, she linked to a blog i'd never heard of before. and this post moved me to tears. like, four times. i'm not kidding.

you REALLY MUST GO READ IT.
it's not that long, and it's totally worth it.

even though i'm not a mother myself, this post really spoke to me.

i'm not proud of this, at all, but i used to get really freaked out when i would see a 'disabled' person (even a child) of any sort.

the thing, for me, was this:
i was pretty sure that, if nothing else, most disabled people don't want to be treated as though they are 'different.' that, i'm sure, is not true one hundred percent of the time, because nothing ever is. but, anyway. my point is that i would always get this tremendous sense of guilt when i would walk by a disabled person and find myself 'ignoring' them. but, i walk by most people and 'ignore' them. i mean, i'm not from the south. we are not friendly people, above the mason-dixie line, or whatever the hell it's called! ok, i mean, it's not that we're not nice, per say, it's more that we're not all that friendly to strangers, i guess.

anyway, i guess that was my attempt to explain my conundrum.
i mean, i could walk by people without acknowledging them all day long, but when i would walk by a disabled person, i was afraid that they would think that i was ignoring them BECAUSE of their disablity.
but if i would make eye contact with them, and smile, and say some generic greeting of some sort--i don't know, that seemed forced and yucky and fake as well.

it took me a while to figure out that letting myself think about it this much is probably the one thing that the disabled person definitely wouldn't want.

so, i got over it.

oh, and i also started making an effort at being more friendly to people in general, with mixed results. there are probably some blog worthy stories in that vein, but for now?

i'm sleepy.
go read the stuff i linked you to.

p.s.
if you've never read amalah, you should totally read all her archives. in order.
she is definitely worth the time.

always look on the bright side of life...

2007-01-15T03:46:00.000-05:00

today was one of the worst days i've had in a really long time.
remember last week, when the full out fight broke out on my blog (and in the comments section)?
that was nothing, compared to this.

i raised my voice today, louder than it has been raised IN YEARS...
and that was only in response to the yelling that someone else was doing to me.

which was completely uncalled for, i might add.

the worst part is, this wasn't some asshole at the bar, but someone whose love and respect i am used to having unconditionally.
so, yeah.
today sucked.

but, i don't feel that i can do justice to the sadness in writing--at least at the moment--so instead i'm going to talk about the thing that's making me happy right now.

i am happy to announce that i have ordered my new computer.
and!
there was a deal going on!
and i got a better computer than i thought i could afford, for less money than the original computer was going to cost!

try not to pee yourselves with excitement.

anyway, as you may remember me mentioning, i'm planning on improving my blog quite a bit once my computer arrives. (probably on tuesday!!!!!)

i already asked for advice about which blog-hosting-type-place i should use. the only answer i got was a place called wordpress, which i was already thinking of using. the other two places i was considering are typepad and vox. so if anyone has any ideas about why one might be better than the other, i would love to hear about it.
oh, and yes, i know that you have to be 'invited' to vox, or whatever. which is lame, for sure, but i have been invited. so we're all good on that front.

but i still need your help.

i'm thinking i want to change the name of my blog.
see, when i started this grand adventure, i thought that i would write posts about things that pissed me off or bothered me in some way, or whatever, and then i would end each one with a line like 'if i were queen of the world, this would have happened like...' or some other such schticky nonsense. you know, kind of like roseanne roseannadanna and her 'it's always something' tagline on old school SNL, which i just tried to find an example of on youtube, to no avail.*

but anyway, i never ended up doing that.

and i think that my blog might need a new name, when it gets a new home and a new face.

i've been thinking and thinking AND THINKING about this, i'm embarrassed to admit, for months.
the only new name i can come up with is 'the adventures of super tiff.'

b.j. and b.g. both like it, probably because they remember when people actually used to call me 'supertiff.'

john, however, thinks it is the dumbest name OF ALL TIME.

so, can anyone come up with an idea?
can i offer you a prize of some sort, if you come up with the best idea?

how about this...
if someone comes up with a VERY good idea--one that really fits me, you know?--i promise i will read your ENTIRE** blog, right from the first post you ever wrote, and use everyting i learn about you to buy you a present. and i'll even send it to you.

and, people?
i am a really good present buyer.
seriously.
so, if i were you, i would get motivated.

*however, if you have no idea who 'roseanne roseannadanna is? i highly suggest you look into it.
**although, i've already read the ENTIRE blog of most of the people who comment here. but, still--that doesn't mean that you won't get a good present.

thanks, and also, wtf?

2007-01-13T16:28:00.000-05:00

i would like to thank everyone who celebrated 'de-lurking week' with me this year.
17 is certainly a big improvement on the 2 from last year--and most of you were people who had never commented before, so, you know, bonus.

this concludes the 'thanks' part of this post.

in other matters, though, are all the other people who refused to join in the joyful celebration. i mean, someone in mountain view, california read this entry four times and still couldn't bring themselves to leave a comment.

strange.

oh, and then there's all the people who came by for the first times and didn't say anything.
for reasons that i do not understand, this post generated a lot more hits than i normally get.
i really have no idea why that is, for i am not a very smart person.
anyway, people in:
oklahoma city
berlin
raleigh, north carolina
somewhere in sweden
beijing
springfield, missouri
greenville, south carolina
roanoke, virginia
berrien springs, michigan
and
watervilet, michigan all stopped by for the first time, stuck around for a while, and then left without saying anything.

so, that's the first part of the 'wtf?' part of this entry.
and i do plan on writing something of some sort of interest at some point in the near future, in the hopes that maybe i'll be able to bring a few of these people out of hiding--or, at least convince them to keep coming back.

but, today is not that day, due to the extremely tragic nature of the second 'wtf?' part of this entry, which goes like this:

i did not sleep last night.
at all.
for no particular reason that i can think of.
i was all snuggled in and very sleepy by 2am, but at 10:30 this morning i was still awake.
i tried taking a jacuzzi--no luck.
i took tylenol pm--nothing.
i finally fell asleep for an hour at about 1:30 this afternoon, and now i get to go bartend until 3am.

i feel like maybe this is not going to be a good thing.

so, anyway.
wtf?
i think that about sums it up.

p.s.
everyone who left (or perhaps still might...)leave a comment on the de-lurkification post will get a link on my links list.
yup, you heard me.
a link.
on MY LINKS LIST.
and we all know how valuable that is.
(read: not very)

the great lurker expose of 2007

2007-01-10T03:22:00.000-05:00

so, it's that time again.
you know, 'delurking week.'

what is a lurker, you ask?
well, i'll give you a hint. if you come to this blog--or any other blog--on any kind of a somewhat regular basis and read to your little heart's content and then go away without saying anything? then you, my friend, are a lurker.

so, celebrate!
it's your week!

i celebrated de-lurking week last year.
and, when i say 'celebrate,' what i mean is, i stomped my feet and insisted that anyone who was reading my blog without commenting leave me a comment.
two whole people who had never commented before decided to leave a comment that day.

so, i don't want to be too ambitious or hopeful, but i'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, more than two of you will celebrate with me this year. mainly because my sitemeter thing tells me that there are a lot more people reading my blog now than there were a year ago. oh, and speaking of my sitemeter--you know what else it does?

it tells me where you people are reading from.
how fun is that?

it's so fun, i think i'll use it to call you out.
so now, in the joyful spirit of de-lurkification, i present a list of towns/cities where mysterious people who i don't know are reading my blog. (this list is not complete--it only represents places where i'm sure i don't know anyone, and i can't figure out who these people are).

places where people read my blog in hiding:

1. danville, california. hello out there! how are you! do you know how to type? prove it!

2. lansing, michigan. happy wednesday, lansing! how's it going over there?

3. mountain view, california. what's up, yo?

4. schenectady, new york. hi! the name of your town is fun to say! it is not as fun to type.

5. moraga, california. i have never heard of this place, but hello! how's it hanging?

6. waterville, ohio. hello, mr./mrs./miss/ms. ohio! i like ohio, because usually if i'm there it means i'm on my way to key west. and that is ALWAYS a good thing.

7. livonia, michigan. this one is a bit of a misnomer, because i'm sure i do know a lot of people in livonia. i just don't know which person this is. because they don't comment. so, hello person! talk to me!

8. yonkers, new york. hello, yonkers! this is kind-of a fun name, too. what's up with new york and all the good city names? perhaps you could tell me in some kind of a comment! what a novel idea! p.s. now i keep thinking about that movie, lost in yonkers, which i've never seen. have you seen it? was it good?

9. los angeles, california. now, this COULD be my best friend from forever, jobi, who i've talked about before. but, i'd like to think that, if it were her, she WOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING ALREADY. but, then again, it could also be my cousin, rumplebutt. i just can't be sure, BECAUSE OF THE WHOLE NOT COMMENTING THING. i'm just saying.

10. kissimmee, florida. hello, kissimmee! does disney world cease to be fun if you live right next to it? because i REALLY like disney world. i don't know, there's just something about that castle that makes me really happy. and it's WAY better than the piss-poor castle they have at disneyland. so, yeah. kissimmee pretty much rules, in my book. but, whatever.

11. fairbanks, alaska. hello, alaska person! you're new here, right? welcome!

12. upper marlboro, maryland. hi, have you seen my friend david? apparently he's recovering in a maryland hospital somewhere--after getting hit by a truck in china, which totally sucks goat balls, if you don't mind my saying so, but his mom stopped calling to give us updates and we don't know how to find him. so, if you've seen him, please let me know.

13. walnut creek, california. you're new too, huh? well, welcome to the random insanity. i hope you're having a good day.

so anyway, you should all go ahead and consider yourself served. and you'd better dance back.

seriously, people. de-lurkofy already.
even if you hate me with every atom of your being, and only ever visit my blog because it makes you happy to remind yourself that there is someone in the world dumber/meaner/uglier/whatever-er than you, you could still just say 'hi' this one time.
couldn't you?
please please please please please?

and also, please?

p.s.
a big thanks to miss zoot, who not only reminded me that it was 'de-lurking week,' but also provided me with an actual history of the event. she rocks, and you should go leave a comment on her site, too, because she's donating a dollar to hurricane katrina recovery for every comment she gets this week. see? that's rocking.

p.s.again.
just for the record, even if you're a reader who actually does leave comments sometimes, you're still encouraged to comment on this post, even though it's not directed at you.
because comments make me happy.
and happiness is a good thing, no?

tiffany's favorite songs

2007-01-08T00:20:00.001-05:00

part one, in a three hundred million, forty seven thousand, six hundred and three part series.

so, i don't know about the video. but i wanted you to be able to hear the song--you know, if you wanted to.

i used to listen to this whole c.d. with this guy i used to date.
we met one summer--seems like decades ago, now. but, you know, i'm only 28. so i guess it wasn't really as long ago as it seems.

anyway, we met at the beginning of a summer, and at the end of it he moved to miami.
i used to go there whenever i could, to visit. i can't remember everything we did. i know we fought a lot, but i can't remember what we fought about.

what i do remember, is driving around in his car, at night, with the windows down, listening to this song.

i used to hang my arm out the window, lean my head back, close my eyes, and let myself get totally lost in this song. there were palm trees everywhere, and other big droopy trees with that crazy beautiful (even though it actually kills the trees)moss hanging down all over the place. you couldn't see the ocean most of the time, but you could smell it everywhere. it was like, if you got out of the car and took two steps in any direction, you would be wading in saltwater.

it's hard to explain now.

but there was this feeling--maybe it had something to do with being so young and in love, or being so far away from home. hell, maybe it was just the humidity.
but it felt like anything was possible, and i think that's a feeling worth remembering once in a while.

and now for something completely different

2007-01-06T01:45:00.000-05:00

****

dear youtube,

no, i don't want to watch a video of saddam hussein being hung.
but thanks for asking.

love,
tiffany

****

dear cnn,

i understand that you are frustrated that some people were able to sneak video cameras into the exectution of saddam hussein. i understand that these videos could potentially act as a catalyst for further violence and loss of life.
i'm with you, seriously.

but i think you might get your point across a bit more successfully if you weren't showing a loop of said video in the background, as you discuss, and discuss, AND RE-DISCUSSS THIS STORY INTO OBLIVION.

love,
tiffany

p.s.
did you know that i have a degree, and that i'm currently wasting my life away as a bartender? it seems to me that you could use my services.
send airfare, and i'll be in atlanta straightaway.
thanks.

once more, for the people in the back

2007-01-05T00:24:00.000-05:00

~if you read this post and think to yourself, holy crap, who pissed tiffany off? then i am not speaking to you. but, go ahead and read along anyway. because isn't it fun to see me all riled up?~

yes, i recently moved back in with my parents.
yes, someone gave me a lot of money last week.
yes, i am going to use it to buy a new computer and go on a trip to hawaii.

and i can see where, if you only had time, or only cared to listen to me long enough to hear those three sentences, you might think of me as highly irresponsible and foolish.
but, you know what?

i actually say a lot more than that.
so, if all you can figure out about what's going on in my life can be summed up by those three sentences?
that's really your bad.

but, for the sake of clarity, i will try ONE MORE TIME.
and i'll even do it in list form, in case that helps.

1. i did not move back in with my parents because suddenly, at the age of 28, i forgot how to pay my own rent or take care of any other various task. i moved back home because my roommate had to move out, so she could take care of some very important business. namely, childbirth. as she was not planning on getting pregnant, i was not planning on losing my roommate. when faced with this SUDDEN problem, i decided to move into my parent's house for three reasons.
a. not only was i not financially prepared to live alone, i also have no desire to live alone.
b. my little sister was going to be graduating from college in a few weeks, and would be moving back in herself. i didn't want to rush off and move into whatever last minute apartment i could find, if there was a chance that we could get a place together if i was willing to wait a little bit.
c. i figured that, while i was at home, i might be able to take advantage of the financial situation and go to vegas with my friends or something.

that didn't exactly work out, because my dad decided that i have to pay rent while i live at home. it doesn't really suck, though, because he is going to save that rent money and give it back to me when i move out. but still, it doesn't exactly free up any of my income right at the moment.

2. little did i know, someone would be giving me a large check. which could be deposited into my bank account and turned into money. and spent.

3. i decided to spend some of the money on a new computer, because my computer is 5 years old, and it also just generally sucks balls. we all know that i can't live without a computer for more than 17 and a half minutes at a time, so i really don't consider this a frivolous purchase.
also, i have something called 'goals and dreams.' perhaps you have some of your own? anyway, mine become much more easily attainable when i get a mac and teach myself how to use this one very specific and very frustrating program which, sadly, one can only use if one has access to a mac.
so, there you go.

4. i decided to use the rest of the money to go to hawaii. i'm pretty sure this is where i lost you.
hawaii, you say.
sure.
that must be nice.
i wish i lived in my mom's basement and someone would give me a shit-ton of money so i could blow it on whatever and always get what i want, blah, blah, blah.

so, ok.
i'd rather not explain this to you, but i will because now you've pissed me off.

yes, going to hawaii is an enjoyable thing.
yes, i am excited to go.
yes, it is beautiful and relaxing, and above all, expensive.

but, more than any of those things, what i know about hawaii is that it is where my father would like his ashes to be scattered.

i've never told my father's story on this blog--i don't know if i ever will.
but, the person i'm speaking to in this post certainly knows the story. or, they've heard it, at least. i guess i can't be sure they were listening.

but anyway, it's because i know that they know my father's story that i'm so riled up about this right now.

i don't want to go into too much detail...
if i ever do bring my father's story to internet land, i will do it of it's own accord. i will not make it public in an attempt to defend my actions against the words of someone who should know better.

anyway, i will say this.

i didn't really speak to my father much for the last two years he was alive.
apparently, he wasn't REALLY communicating with anyone, because he got very very sick and by the time anyone else knew it was too late. there was nothing we could do but go to the hospital, and sit, and wait, and wonder if he knew we were there, if he was mad at us, or sad, or in pain--wonder if he was really even there at all--until the day we had to take him off of life support, when the only thing we could do, still, was sit there.
and wait.

i found out later, after he was gone, that he had been calling my work and trying to talk to me, regularly, for the entire year before he died.

i don't know why he didn't call my grandpa, or my uncle, or my mother or ANYBODY to find out my own phone number--maybe he was embarrassed to tell someone he didn't have it, i don't know--but, the point is, he didn't.
he called my work.
over, and over, and over again. whoever answered wouldn't give him my number, telling him that it was against company policy. sometimes i was actually at work, but they would say i was busy. if i wasn't there, they would say they didn't know when i'd be in again.
they thought they were doing me a favor, because they knew that i was, well, uncomfortable, to say the least, about speaking to my father.
maybe that's why they never even told me that he was calling--they just didn't want to stress me out.

i mean, they didn't know he was going to die.

but, he did.

he died, thinking that i hated him, i think.

and there is absolutely nothing i can ever do about that.
ever.

but i can take his ashes to the one place where i know he repeatedly returned during his life, with various loved ones, and felt happy.

i can take him to a place where he used to take me when i was young, a place where i can remember us being happy together.

that place happens to be hawaii.

i didn't pick it, he did.

and i will take him back there, because it is the only thing i can do.

and if you still think this is a waste of my money, then you can fuck right off.
because, honestly? i can't think of anything more important than this.

damn hippie liberals

2007-01-04T11:35:00.000-05:00

when i was growing up, winter in michigan was awesome.

there was nothing better than going to bed at night, watching the snow come down, and knowing that there was a really really good chance that school would be cancelled the next morning.

after really big snowfalls, my dad would shovel the deck in our backyard and pile all the snow into the stairway that led from the deck into the backyard. together, we would make a cave into that snow pile. sometimes we would get fancy and use this snow-brick-maker thing that we had.
on more than one occassion, the cave ended up being big enough for both of us to get in at the same time.

i still live in michigan--i always have--but the winters are very different now.
my mom works in an elementary school, and they haven't had any snow days yet this year.
last year, they didn't have any at all.

i went to park city, utah--a freaking mountainous region--for thanksgiving.
i went up north to boyne mountain--not really a mountainous region, but it tries--for christmas.

still, it's january 4th, and i think i've seen exactly two snowflakes fall out of the sky so far.

they disappeared before they hit the ground.

why?
because it's too fucking warm!

for the love of pete, my dad was golfing two days before christmas.
in michigan!
because it was 60 degrees outside!
in december!

but, people?

do not be alarmed.

'global warming' is just a myth perpetuated by those damn hippie liberals.

cheers

2007-01-02T01:42:00.000-05:00

there's nothing like staring at the empty whiteness of a blank microsoft word document with thoughts of the passing of another year running through your head to render you completely speechless.

or maybe that's just me.

anyhow, i'm sure that in the near future you can expect some sort of a more comprehensive 'new year' post--highlights and lowlights from the past year, speculation on possible resolutions and how quickly they will be broken. you know the drill.

but, for now...

...cheers, my dears.
i hope you all had a great night, and rang in the new year surrounded by your favorite people--or at least a nice bottle of champagne.

because i wanted to have at least one more post in december

2006-12-31T04:49:00.000-05:00

since i started blogging more frequently a few months ago, it makes me happy to look at my sidebar and admire how many posts i made each month.
i also like to look in the mirror and tell myself how pretty i am.

i'm kidding.

but, anyway.
i wanted to have another post in december, but i didn't want to actually, you know, write anything. so i did what any self-respecting blogger would do.

i went quiz hunting.

You scored as Portishead - Roads. When you heard this song for the first time, and come to think of it, the third, fourth and basically every other time, all your pain came swelling up inside you and there was so much it started seeping out of your eyes. oh, or you might just be an emo kid, if so, you'd better find this song. It'll break you into pieces.

Portishead - Roads

75%

Radiohead - Creep

65%

No Doubt - Don't Speak

60%

Verve Pipe - The Freshman

45%

Hanson Mmmbop

40%

The Pixies - Where is my Mind

35%

Which Classic 90's Song Are You?
created with QuizFarm.com

i thought this quiz was especially wonderful, because this actually is one of my favorite songs of all time.* and, the quiz didn't totally suck. like, you know how sometimes you know exactly what answer you're going to get, because the questions are so dumb?
this one wasn't like that.

so, anyway.
hooray for fun quizzes that give you answers you like!
or something.

*it's also one of the only songs that john and i both like. because, generally, he hates everything i like, and i hate everything he likes. except chinese food. we both like chinese food. and scrabble. but i think that's about it.

holy. crap.

2006-12-30T01:45:00.000-05:00

remember how i really wanted this new computer for christmas, but i was pretty sure that no one would buy it for me?

well, i was right.
no one bought it for me.

but...
someone did give me a rather large chunk of money--totally unexpectedly--so, it looks like i'll be getting my christmas computer, after all.
i nearly peed myself, just thinking about it.

the same RIDICULOUSLY KIND GIFT, WHICH ALMOST MADE ME POOP MY PANTS WHEN I LAID EYES UPON IT, has also enabled me to finally return here, where i will throw my father's ashes into the ocean, from the same place his mother's ashes were scattered.

of course, being able to afford a trip to hawaii is something to be excited about any day. but, in this case, it REALLY REALLY REALLY means a lot. as you may know, my father has been gone for a little over two years.
without this MOST GENEROUS GIFT OF ALL TIME*, i really don't know when i would have been able to get his ashes to hawaii.

the gratitude that i feel for this gift is so overwhelming, i have been randomly bursting into tears about four or five times a day, for the past few days.

i almost couldn't even write this entry, because there really are no words that could ever adequately describe the gratefulness.
so, rather than go on and on into oblivion without ever really getting my point across, i'm going to wander over to expedia and look at airfares. and maybe pee my pants a little.
you never know.

p.s.
i'm also going to use some of this money to upgrade my blog.
you know, like, leave blogger.
so if anyone could just tell me where the best place is, i'd appreciate it.
i have a lot of airfares to search, and a lot of crunches to do.
so it would be a great timesaver if someone would just tell me where to go.

plus, i can never make up my mind about anything anyway, and it's entirely possible that i could spend all my money before deciding what to do about my blog and then where would we be, internet? huh? answer me that!

*but, is it better than the french kiss from my four year old nephew?
that, my friends, is a tough call.

tiffany and the best christmas present ever.

2006-12-28T15:32:00.000-05:00

i think i've talked to you all about my adorable little sweet-cheeked nephew before.
really, i would love to show some adorable sweet-cheeked pictures that i took of him on christmas eve, but apparently my brother has some kind of a problem with me posting pictures of his children on the internet.*
loser. it's like he thinks he owns them, like, just because he produced them out of thin air or something. sheesh.

anyway, fortunately for us all, i did post a picture of my nephew once before. so, if you click this link, and scroll down to where the pictures are, you will totally see some sweet little cheeks. you might also catch a glimpse of my three nieces.**

okay, are you all back now?
because i really have to tell you what my nephew did on christmas eve.

it all starts with the fact that, even though he has the most kissable cheeks OF ALL TIME, my nephew does not like to be kissed at all. fortunately, i am bigger than him, so i can still plant one on him pretty much whenever i want, as long as i'm willing to use force.
which i am willing to do, of course.

anyhow, when my brother and his wife were getting ready to leave, my nephew came over and crawled up into my lap to give me a hug goodbye.
as he sat there, i informed him that though i was sorry because i knew he wouldn't like it, i was going to have to give him a kiss.

~a conversation with a four year old~

him: no! kisses are gross! i hate kisses!

me: well, that's really too bad. because you're already on my lap and you don't have a good chance of escaping.

him: no! kisses are gross! i hate kisses!

me: look, it's christmas. i already gave you some presents, so i really think you should just let me give you one kiss.

him: no! no kisses!

(it should also be noted that he is giggling hysterically the entire time, so i'm obviously not torturing him too badly)

me: come on. just let me give you a tiny kiss right on the end of your nose. you'll hardly feel it. i promise.

him: kisses are yucky!

me: fine. then i will sit here and close my eyes, and you can give me a kiss. please? i really just want a little kiss for christmas.

he then gets a look of deep concentration on his face. he looks up, and puts his little hands on my cheeks, and looks into my eyes.
i am sure something good is about to happen.

then he reaches up, and gives me a slobbery kiss on the lips.
and, while he's there, he twists his little head back and forth, making it look like we're doing a 'movie kiss.'

i just sit there, completely frozen, until he is done.
everyone sitting around the table is peeing themselves.

i look at my nephew and say thank-you.
he jumps off my lap and runs off to get in the car.

i just sat there, trying to absorb the fact that my four year old nephew just tried to french kiss me.

but, really?
i think it's great.
because he DID NOT want a kiss. he didn't want to give me a kiss, either. but he thought about it. he took my feelings into account on the issue. he was like 'kisses are gross, but i can see that aunt tiff really wants one. so, just this once, i'm going to give her a kiss, because it's christmas. and, damnit, i'm going to give her THE BEST kiss i can.'
and, you know?
he did.

merry fucking christmas to me.

*i tried to compromise with him, because i really didn't want you guys to be denied of the cuteness. i even said please, just let me post the pictures. no one will know their names, or where they live, or how they belong to. in fact, i will post the pictures with the caption 'i have no idea who these children are, or where they came from. but, look! aren't the adorable and sweet-cheeked?'
but he just sort of looked at me like he wished i would stop talking already.
so i guess it was a no go.
**one of them is my nephew's twin, and people? she is redefining sweet-cheekedness. i'm not kidding.

merry christmas, internet.

2006-12-25T15:33:00.001-05:00

sending thoughts of peace, love, and all the other crap. from my computer screen to yours.

how i almost died today. maybe.

2006-12-24T04:53:00.000-05:00

earlier this evening, john and i were on our way to work.
we were in my car, but he was driving--because, when given the opportunity, i will ALWAYS choose to not drive.

i guess we were about half way to work, on the express-way. i'm not really sure what was going on, because i was happily lost in tiffanyland--thinking about some nonsense or another--when i noticed that john was yelling at someone.
i was pretty sure it wasn't me, because he was yelling 'climb out of my asshole, fucker,' or something to that effect, while i was clearly strapped into the passenger seat, nowhere near his asshole. and i think we can all be glad of that.

anyhow, i decided that perhaps i should start paying attention to what was going on.

see, there's this weird thing about john.
he is, hands down, the most mellow and laid back person WHO HAS EVER WALKED THE EARTH.
i swear, this man NEVER gets angry.
the only time he ever raises his voice is to yell at inanimate objects, or people driving cars around him. but, should you be an inanimate object or a person driving a car around him?
you better watch out.
once, we got into his car to go someplace or another, and he got irritated because his windshield wiper wasn't wiping the snow off as well as he would have liked.
and, i'm totally not kidding, he got out the car, tore the windshield wiper off, and started beating the car with it. then he swore at it, tossed it on the ground, and got back in the car.
then we really couldn't see, but whatever.
i think he felt better.
kind of.

anyway, i looked around and figured out that we were in the 'fast' lane of a two lane express way, and we were only going 70 miles an hour. the car behind us was, indeed, nearly in our trunk--but still, the speed limit was 70, so i guess maybe we should have been going a little faster.

~a re-enactment~

me: baby, we're only going 70. maybe we should get over.

john: fuck getting over. i'm passing someone.

me, inwardly: then fucking speed up to 72, and be done with it.

me, outwardly: ***silence***

at this point, we could have gotten around the car we were passing, but instead, john slows down to 65 miles an hour. and then he slams on the brakes. like, REALLY slams them on. my head almost hit the windshield, because i always put the shoulder strap behind the seat. so, you know, i'm not properly restrained. i honestly have no idea how the car behind us didn't plow into us, he slammed the brakes THAT hard. as an extra safety bonus, only one of john's hands was actually on the wheel, because the other hand was busy giving an extended version of 'the bird.'
i was not happy.
can you tell?
oh, also, at some point the car started flashing it's brights at us, but i can't remember exactly where that part goes.
anyway, then the car behind us was finally able to slip up next to us, where he returned the bird, and lovingly checked left towards our car. mind you, we were driving past the mall exit at this point. it was dark out, and there were cars EVERYWHERE--not much room for error, you know? the funny part was that, just yesterday, i heard this story about a guy who was road-raging with someone--he pulled over, thinking he would fight with the other guy, but the other guy pulled up and pinned the first guy's car against the little cement wall thinger on the highway. then he leaned over and shot a gun into the car. the first guy saw the gun and ducked, so the bullet hit--and killed--his pregnant wife.
so, yeah. that's what i'm thinking about the entire time this is happening. you know, apart from thinking that this guy is going to ram into us, and we're going to be killed that way.
i swear, as the guy is pulling up next to us, i was thinking, i fucking hope this guy fucking shoots me right now, and john has to call my mother and be all 'i'm sorry, but tiffany is dead because i'm a road-raging lunatic.'
then the car got in front of us, and started speeding away.
john started going a little over 80 miles an hour, so we could ride the other guy's ass just like he had been riding ours. john also flashed the brights on and off, as he speeded toward the other car.
and then i lost it.

me, yelling: baby, i am in the car, too! please do not endanger my life!

i then start crying really hard, which only pisses me off more because i was ruining my make-up and would have to look like a red puffy mess for the rest of the night.

john: i'm not endangering your life!

me: yes, you are! ***sob, gulp, sniff***

~end re-enactment~

of course, john immediately got in the slow lane. we got off the higway, and he put his hand on my leg and rubbed it soothingly the rest of the way to work.

and i'm not mad at him, at all.
i just had to tell you the story because a)it REALLY freaked me out, and b)i know that, even though he apologized, inside john is all 'damn girls, scared of everything, i could have won that fight.' so i'm just wondering, am i crazy? wait--let me re-phrase.
am i crazy about this particular situation?
isn't it unsafe to do things like this?

let me know.
and, while you're at it, enjoy your christmas eve.
just think about all the crazy family stories i'll have for you soon!

making my mother proud

2006-12-20T22:27:00.000-05:00

today someone in england googled the term 'shit smearing,' and their effort led them straight to my blog.

to this post, to be exact.

i sure do hope they found what they were looking for.

an open letter to hate-mailers

2006-12-19T21:17:00.000-05:00

dear hate-mail leavers,

yes, i know karate isn't chinese.
i know how to use wikipedia, too.

i was trying to make light of a very difficult situation.
perhaps you should just be glad that my blog is the only thing you have to be upset about at the moment, hmmm?

ahhh, perspective.
it's such a lovely thing.
you should look into it sometime.

love,
tiffany

an open letter to china (or, more on the universe and everything)

2006-12-19T19:37:00.000-05:00

yesterday, i spent about a half an hour looking up my friend david's last name in the maryland phone directory. david moved to taiwan last may, but his family lives in maryland. we emailed regularly for a while after he moved, but one day his email quit working, and i didn't hear from him for a few months.
then, a few saturdays ago, he called the bar and we all got to talk to him for a few minutes. he told me his new email address, but i guess i remembered it wrong, because when i got home and tried to email him, it didn't work.

anyway, yesterday, while i was getting ready for work i just couldn't stop thinking about david. i worried that another too many months--or, worse, years--could go by before he would get a hold of me again. david's just one of those kind of guys.
so, i decided to take matters into my own hands.

david has a REALLY unusual last name, so i decided i would just call all the numbers i could find until i found his dad. this required me to leave many strange voicemails, but i didn't care.

****

last night, i was reading the blog of another one of my friends, and saw that apparently he was thinking about david, too.
in fact, he wrote a letter to china, requesting the speedy return of our friend.

the letter went like this:
Dear China, You have my friend Dave. Please send him back. Thank you.
PS. He's the 6'5" american, he looks stoned, he likely is stoned, you let him teach small chinese children english (your bad), i doubt he'll be hard to find.

****

today, david's mom called the bar.
my boss answered.
i guess david got hit by a truck while he was driving his scooter-thing home from work. the rumor is that he shattered a disc in his spine, but his mother wasn't too sure. she said she was having a lot of trouble getting information out of the doctors over there. fortunately, david was at least stable enough for transport, and was already in the process of getting shipped back to maryland.
i guess he is due to arrive sometime late tonight.
she promised to call us tomorrow with news, as soon as the doctors here have a chance to assess the situation.

****

to: china
from: tiffany
re: you're in big trouble

dear china,
when my friend wrote to request the return our friend david, i am quite sure he didn't mean that we wanted him essentially med-evac'd back to the states.
under no circumstances were you to run him over with a truck.
seriously.
i, too, am often annoyed by people riding various types of bikes in places where i think only cars should be. but, still, i do not run them over.
if i find out that this rumor about the shattered disc is true, i will be kicking your ass.
yes, you, china!
the whole lot of you.

and i don't care if you know karate.
i doubt many of you have come across an angry red-head, so let me just warn you.
karate ain't got nothin' on me.

you'll be hearing from me soon!
unsincerely,
tiffany

****

when i called my friend, the one who wrote the first letter to china, to tell him what had happened, we couldn't get over the fact that we both spent a good part of yesterday thinking about david.

my friend thought maybe the universe was punishing him for being demanding or selfish, like the universe was saying 'oh, you want your friend back? well, here you go. have fun.'

i told him that i definitely don't think that's the case.
while i am a firm believer that karma can, indeed, be a bitch sometimes, in this case i think there was something else at play.
what exactly it was, i can't be sure.

i just know that our friend was in distress, and somehow he ended up in our thoughts.
it's not like we divined out of the sky that he was in danger, or that he was hurt or anything.
but he was certainly with us.

it could be coincidence, or it could be something more.
but, either way?
i think it's strangely beautiful.

fuck snape

2006-12-17T19:50:00.000-05:00

~attention all people who may be wanting to read the harry potter series, but for whatever reason have not gotten around to it yet: you may not want to read this post. i'm just saying.~

i came late to the whole harry potter thing.
harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban was already in book stores before i decided to read the first book.
people kept telling me i should read them, but i never really considered it.
wizards and sorcery and such just aren't my thing.
or so i thought.

finally, while preparing for my first thanksgiving trip to park city, i went out and bought harry potter and the sorcerer's stone. i'm not much of a skier*, so i imagined that there would be plenty of time to read while i perched myself next to the fire in my aunt and uncle's house. of course, that was before i knew of the relentless battle of the boardgames that would take place.

anyway, i think i probably took about 12 books with me.
on the plane, i started to read the harry potter. i don't like flying--as you all know--and i figured it would take the least concentration. you know, so i could still keep half of my brain focused on imminent death, or whatever.
but i'll be damned if that harry potter book wasn't one of the most delicious** things i'd ever read.

i read the entire book on the airplane on the way to utah.
and in the salt lake city airport, on the way to the baggage claim, i bought harry potter and the chamber of secrets.
i was hooked.

well, sort of.
a return to michigan brought a return to school, and a return to school sort of 86'd pleasure reading. i fell behind.
when someone gave me harry potter and the goblet of fire for my 25th birthday, i still hadn't read the third book.
in the end, i decided that was a good thing. had i been devouring the books as they came out, i would have turned into one of those freaks who is standing in line at the bookstore for hours on end when the new books come out, because they've been waiting two whole years since they'd finished the last installment.
i fancied myself to be quite clever.***

but then my plan crumbled to all bloody hell.

all of the sudden, last summer, the sixth book was coming out!
the sixth!

and i hadn't gotten around to reading the fourth.

i dug around my various book keeping places--bookshelf, car trunk, under car seats, everywhere in my car, really. finally i found the fourth book under my bed, and i got down to reading.
it was two days until the release of the sixth book, harry potter and the half blood prince.

a few days later, i was reading in my princess chair*** in the living room while john watched some weird show or another on this weird channel--i think it's called G4 or something. john watches it all the time, and from what i can see they just talk about video games a lot. of course, i'm no expert, as i'm usually sleeping or reading when john is allowed control of the remote.
anyway, in this particular case, it turned out to be a good thing that i was in the other room, because apparently the G4 people stopped talking about video games long enough to reveal some kind of REALLY BIG spoiler about the new harry potter book.
john came into the living room immediately, to give me the following lecture:

stop reading for a second, this is really important. i just found out something about the new harry potter book, and, trust me, you do not want to know what it is. if you're watching t.v., or if people are talking at the bar or whatever and they start to mention harry potter at all, just change the channel, or walk away or something. because you are going to be so pissed if someone ruins this for you. oh, and read faster! people are going to be talking about this a lot.

after badgering john for a few minutes to JUST TELL ME WHAT IT WAS ALREADY, i decided that he was right. it would be better if i read it for myself.
i stayed up that entire night finishing the fourth book.
the fourth book is not short, just so you know.

anyway, the next day i went to the bookstore and bought the fifth and sixth books with grandiose plans of reading for days straight.
the next day, i woke up early and read most of harry potter and the order of the phoenix.

then i went to the mall, to buy a birthday present for my niece.
at the mall, i walked by a man who was wearing a shirt that said 'dumbledore dies pg. 596.'

i cannot even begin to tell you how badly i wanted to follow that man around, yelling various mean things at him.
but, the grownup part of me realized that, of course, that kind of reaction was exactly what he was hoping for.
i mean, one doesn't wear that kind of shirt in public the very week that the fastest selling book of all time comes out because they're hoping to make people feel cheerful.

so, instead, i went home and moped.

and didn't read the book.

finally, last week, i decided that enough time had passed. (read: i ran out of other things to read, and all of the sudden i was all 'omg, i still didn't read the last harry potter!')
so i went digging around for my copy, and got down to business.

last night, i started reading at around page 500.
as i read on and on, getting closer and closer to the infamous page 596, i tired to remain calm--no big deal, i knew what was coming.
i was prepared.

well, bullshit to all that.
because no one told me HOW DUMBLEDORE WOULD DIE!!!
and, even pessimistic little me could never have anticipated such horribleness.
seriously.

at first, i was just pissed.
i got on myspace and left my little sister***** a message that went like this:

oh my god, i hate snape.
WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!!!?

now i'm crying and i'm the biggest loser of all time because this book has been out for a year and a half and i totally didn't know that was going to happen.

I HATE YOU FOR NOT TELLING ME.
FUCK SNAPE, AND HIS DAD, TOO.

p.s. nice nose ring, though.

then i cried for a few minutes.
and then i went to bed.

but i was scared because i had just finished reading all that scary stuff, so i had to go to sleep with my head covered by the blanket, with just a tiny opening to breathe through, like i did when i was little.******

when i woke up this morning i was still pissed off, so i decided to blog about my whole shitty harry potter experience.

the end.

*which reminds me, i should REALLY tell you that story.

**what? is it weird to refer to a book as delicious?

***and sometimes reading harry potter books makes me write with a twinge of british inflection. apparently.

****the reddish one, which is pictured in my last post.

*****she turns 16 on wednesday. i linked to a picture of her on myspace, so you could see how cute she is with her little nose ring that she just got, but then i remembered that as she is SMART, her myspace is set to private, and you wouldn't be able to see it unless you are her myspace friend. which, you're not, i'm guessing.

******actually, i did this until i was about 23. but don't tell anyone.

an open letter to santa

2006-12-14T00:34:00.000-05:00

to: santa
from: tiffany, a mostly good girl
re: gifts

dear santa,

i have been a VERY good girl at least three days this year. and i was hardly ever a very bad girl. so, i think i deserve some presents.
here's what i want:

1. this and this and this and this and this and this, to help me keep my face looking young and beautiful.

ha! hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
but, yeah. this is what my face looks like when i don't take care of it. (and also when i stand out in the cold drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, as i took this picture in the bathroom when i went to the world series). but anyway, seriously. as you can see, i need this shit.

2. this, just because i've really been wanting it for a long time.

3. these, because i look like an orphan, but i can't bring myself to retire my old ones. see below.*

4. and last, but not least, this thing, which i want so badly that i could not even begin to express it in words. and while i know that it is not possbile that i will ever own this machine of wonder without purchasing it for myself, i want it soooo badly, that i couldn't really imagine leaving it off the list. please excuse me while i sob for a moment.

ok, i'm back.

anyway, thanks for your time, santa.
you know i appreciate anything that you can do for me, and that i will ALWAYS leave you kahlua and cream with the cookies. fuck all that milk nonsense.

xoxoxo,
tiffany

p.s.
just in case some kind of miracle happens, i wouldn't mind having this, either. it is my favorite place on earth, after all.

*although, santa may be able to ignore this request because i know that it is driving my mother insane to know that her daughter is tromping all over town in such filthy boots, and it is highly likely that i will be getting a replacement from her.**

**and, speaking of her, look how pretty she made my new room.

ooooh. i likey.

it's uncanny, really.

2006-12-13T01:38:00.000-05:00

You scored as White Rabbit. You're constantly worrying about everything, and always in a rush. If you were diagnosed with any psychological ailment, it'd probably be anxiety disorder.

White Rabbit

100%

Tweedle Dee & Dum

75%

Caterpillar

63%

Alice

63%

Queen of Hearts

50%

Cheshire Cat

38%

The Mad Hatter

31%

Which Alice in Wonderland Character are YOU?
created with QuizFarm.com

so, i could have found this out for free?
humph.

revelations

2006-12-12T22:37:00.000-05:00

so, as i've hinted before, crazy things have been afoot in tiffanyland.

i have been keeping some serious secrets from you guys.

anyhow, the original secret, which prompted another secret, has recently become unsecretified.

so, here we go.

b.g. (you know, the roommate/best friend/psuedo-sister) is having a baby.
while we once thought that we would end up as life partners, it turns out that i am not the father.
i know, it's shocking.

anyway, i guess the thing about being pregnant is that you have this desire to, you know, live with the father. and like, be a family.
so, i lost my roommate.
and i'm trying not to be sad about it, because while i don't get to see her everyday anymore, the bright side is that she is busy growing a whole new person who i am sure i will love very much indeed.

it's really all very exciting.
except the part where i had to move back in with my parents because i couldn't afford to get my own apartment.
that part isn't exciting at all.
except the part where now i can take a jacuzzi tub every day and i don't have to buy groceries and i can play my piano whenever i want to.
and the part where my sister is moving back in next week, and i'm sure it will all be very fun for at least two weeks, after which we'll probably all want to kill each other.

so, anyway, that's what has become of my life.
yay, me.

'tis the season

2006-12-11T23:33:00.000-05:00

here, for your viewing pleasure, is the six chamillion fifty four thousand twenty eight hundred and seventh reason why i love my sister:

this is a paper mache snowman that b.j. made when she was little.
i'm not sure exactly how old she was, but that's beside the point.
the point is, this snowman rules.

maybe you can't tell yet, so let me show you from a different angle...

hello?
can you all see that this snowman is smoking a bong?

i think it was actually supposed to be a pipe. and, really? you can't blame the girl. the song frosty the snowman clearly states that frosty smokes a pipe. and, you know, paper mache isn't really an exact science.

and thank god for that, because i just don't think life would be right without this most fantastic christmas decoration.*

*although, that's sort of a misnomer, because my family loves this snowman so much that we could never bring ourselves to put it away. so, it's really more of an all-year decoration.

good news!

2006-12-07T23:38:00.000-05:00

You scored as Very intelligent and useful girl. Congratulations! You are a very intelligent and useful girl! You are not at all taken in by the media hype that tries to tell girls how they should look and what they should like. You react against that crap in a positive way, breaking down the walls that the male hegemony tries to build around us and providing a positive role model and inspiration for other girls. Keep expressing yourself and your individuality!

Very intelligent and useful girl

65%

Fairly intelligent and useful girl

60%

Slightly pointless girl

35%

Stupid pointless girl

20%

Fairly pointless girl

How much of a stupid pointless girl are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

or, i was smart enough to give the 'right' answers on this juevnile and SEXIST quiz. because, we all know that reading fashion magazines makes you 'a stupid and pointless girl.'
i mean, i have never confused vogue with time. but i also didn't think that an occassional glance at it would render my life 'pointless.'

i guess you learn something new every day.