1. Why did Mariah Carey marry Nick Cannon?
2. Why are my teaspoons from Ikea so ridiculously small?
3. Why does my son watch WWE on the internet?
4. What is the appeal to golf?
5. Why do I seem to always fall ill on New Year's?
6. Why does anyone care about Brad and Angelina?
7. Who the hell is Cash Warren and how did he get to marry Jessica Alba?
7a. Further, what's the big fucking deal with Jessica Alba?
8. If there are generics for medicines, who chooses to purchase the brand name?
9. How do I get all these stains out of my carpet?
10. Why do men say "we" when they really mean "you"?
11. Why can't I just inherit like a million dollars so I don't have to work?
12. Where are Carmen Sandiego and Waldo?
13. Why would someone with no job spend their days fishing instead of looking for a new job?
14. Why is David Beckham married to Posh Spice instead of just hooking up with me?
15. Why is it that now I have $30 in iTunes credit, but can't think of anything to buy with it?
16. Why does my iPod say it's 4:12 am when it's really 9:36 am?
17. Why am I still checking work email on my day off?
18. Do you have answers to any of these questions?
19. Is it just me, or does the new Kanye album kinda suck?
20. Does anyone really like I Kissed A Girl by Katy Perry or does everyone just sing it because it's so damn catchy?
21. Why do I wake up every morning at 4 am on the dot..but only for about 3 or 4 minutes?
22. If termites eat wood, then why are there balls of wood left behind?
23. Why doesn't spell check on the computer recognize the word internet?
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
1. Why did Mariah Carey marry Nick Cannon?
Posted by Tiffany at 9:28 AM
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
I've been tagged by Danielle! This means that I have to tell you eight random facts about myself and then tag eight other people. Yay! So, here it goes:
1. I've been avoiding Blogger for the past month and a half because I didn't get a good turn out for my internet BFF search and didn't feel like explaining it to anyone. Sorry.
2. I hate the Yankees. Hate them hate them hate them.
3. I'm currently on a mission to find a pink Nintendo DS for myself. Actually...I'd settle for any color except blue. But I really really want a pink one.
4. When I'm excited I don't just say yeah. I say yeah yeah yeah yeah. I didn't notice this until someone pointed it out to me a couple months ago and everyone in the room laughed and said that I do.
5. I am maybe one of the most impatient people on the planet.
6. My dream job is to be a "cut man" - scratch that - "cut chick" for UFC fighters. I want to wrap hands before fights and stick gobs of Vaseline onto fighter's faces in between rounds when they have 3 inch gashes on their foreheads.
7. I have recently realized that I don't really give a shit about anything serious that most adults care about. Meaning as long as my family and I have a roof over our head and food in our stomachs, that's all I really care about. I don't care if I own the roof or rent it hourly. I just care that it's there. You come into the world with nothing. You can't take it with you when you die, so who cares. Everything is replaceable. Material shit is just that. I think people forget that.
8. I love to eat fondant right out of the box. There's no need to put it on cake.
Now that you know 8 random facts about me, I want to know some about you! Here are the fellow bloggers I've tagged:
Ok, so the tag rules are as follows: Each player starts with eight random fact/habits about themselves. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules. At the end of your blog post, you need to tag eight people and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’ve been tagged and to read your blog.
Posted by Tiffany at 4:56 PM
So here's the story. Way back in like..I dunno, March I think, James, his uncle Kenny, his aunt Lisa(who is a very good friend of mine) and I happened upon a hookah bar in Foster City. None of us had ever smoked hookah, so we kinda sorta ditched the family for a little bit to go check it out. We all loved it. Flash forward to August of this year when Sami, Debi, and Shawn all bought me a hookah for my birthday. I was stoked. And I freely share the hookah wealth.
I brought the hookah to a family gathering for Thanksgiving where Lisa and I chilled and smoked the hookah. I thought..how cool would it be to buy her one for Christmas? So I did. Then she emailed me a couple days before Christmas telling me that Kenny gave her an early gift and it's a hookah. Great. Just great. Then James says, "Why don't you just send one to Danielle?" Duh! Why didn't I think of that?
So I spread the good news to Danielle. And she's stoked. Today, she sends me a text telling me that she's going to send an iTunes gift card to me via email to thank me for the hookah because I refuse to let her pay me for it.
This is where the story gets cool.
Danielle sent it to the wrong email address. And the guy, who's name is Tom, was nice and honest enough to email her back and tell her he's not me. Even better, he asked her to have me email him because he's been getting my email for months.
I emailed Tom and thanked him for not being a total douche by not stealing my iTunes gift card. Then, because I'm so unashamedly nosy, I looked him up on My Space and realized that he just might be the male version of Danielle and me. So we chit chatted back and forth over email for a little bit and found out that there is a small possibility that we could be related.
How fucking cool is that?
Posted by Tiffany at 4:39 PM
I'm over it. I only had two people volunteer. Thanks Temple and Angie. It's done and over. Moving on...
Posted by Tiffany at 4:37 PM
Sunday, November 16, 2008
So my Blogger friend Temple has this cool thing she does called Flashback Friday. I asked her if I could steal and and she said yes. Then I got lazy and didn't even do it. But she did it again, and that makes me officially behind, so OK. I'm gonna do it right now.
(I copy and pasted all of this from her.)
So, this is how the game is played, kiddos. Use the "random date generator" (seriously, this exists) at
to pick a random date (I limited my search from 1990 through today) and then I took the random date and plugged it in to Google with "top 40 hits" and voila, I got the Top 10 Songs on that date. The idea is to choose one of the Top 10 Songs from your random date and then have a "flashback"!
(end of copy and paste from Temple's blog)
OK, well I'm not as smart as her. I tried to do the google thing and there were way too many options. So I pulled my random date,which was December 8, 1990 and then I googled "December 8, 1990 music" and I found a link to Billboard. ANYWAY....my song is Because I Love You by Stevie B.
So here's the scene. It's 7th grade in Manteca, CA. At this particular point in time, I've got a group of girlfriends and we all run like a pack of wolves. Angie, Jennifer, Beth, Priscilla, Selena, Dana, and me. We rolled deep. We were at the winter dance that I had absolutely no interest in going to. At that time, I only danced in Angie's bedroom or in Priscilla's living room or in my room. I didn't want to take my dancing skills (or lack of) public. But the girls went to the dance, so of course I had to go.
Much like now, I had to be different. I wasn't the prissy girl, but I wasn't some freak of nature kid either. I just felt like if I was going to waste my time going to a dance, then something cool had better happen. Well, nothing cool happened. All the girls were holding up the wall on one side of the cafeteria and the boys were holding up the wall at the other end of the cafeteria. I'm not joking when I say that it went on like this for at least a half an hour. It was lame. Finally, Amy and Charlie (two people I have no idea where they are now) met in the middle and slow dance to probably New Kids on the Block or something. Me and the girls snickered. Priscilla knew I was ready to head for the door. So she dared me. Back in those days, I couldn't say no to a dare.
She dared me to dance with the nerdiest kid in school. I can't remember his name name, but he had read hair and he was super smart. And he kinda smelled like pee and he always had pink eye. So I told her I'd ask him to dance when the next slow song came on. And of course, it had to be Stevie B., Because I Love You. Ugh. So I asked him and he got all excited and said yeah. Great.
According to iTunes, this song is 4 minutes and 20 seconds. I can tell you that in 7th grade, this song is 37 minutes and 42 seconds.
The nerd kid was shaking while he had his hands around my waist and we walked in a circle for 37 minutes and 42 seconds. By the time the song was over, his hormones went into overdrive and he smelled of B.O. and I had sweat marks on my shirt from where his hands were.
I hated all of my girls for the rest of the night.
Happy Sunday folks. Here's an update and the official start of the bff search. Let me just say that I have a serious case of ADD and Danielle gave me a swift kick in the ass to get me moving on this. So, here it goes.
Every Sunday, I'll post a new "challenge" or request for something that I need you to do. Danielle will be THE judge. We figured we didn't really want to do something that requires a lot of work, because if you're like me, you're already bored too. Haha! OK, so this week I'm asking a very basic thing from you. Add me to your My Space and/or Facebook. The link to my My Space page is here and my Facebook is here.
All you have to do is send me a friend's request and let me know you're from Blogger. Then Danielle and I will scour your pages and next Sunday we'll let you know who is in and who is out.
Sundays will be the big days for the New Internet Best Friend. I'll post a new challenge every Sunday and also follow up on the week previous.
So what do you get for winning the internet best friend? I will pimp your blog on My Space, on Facebook, as well as here on Blogger. And if you really want, I'll send you a signed picture of me. :)
So this is officially the the start of Round One. Imagine the sound of a bell ringing.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
However, from this minute forward if you see something on my blog that you deem worthy of being on your blog, please let me know. Otherwise I kinda feel like you just ripped my tongue out of my mouth so you could speak. Thank you and Happy Thursday readers!!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
I got this from a fellow blogger. She didn't actually tag me, but her blog invited any and all readers to do it too, and so I am. Maybe this will even come in handy for my potential new best friend.
Tidbit No. 1: I'm really white. So white that I don't tan. I just burn, blister, peel, and then I'm white again. One time in high school I tried using tanning lotion and turned orange. So after that faded away, I thought I'd use foundation to add some color to my legs. In case you are not aware, foundation should ONLY be applied on the face. Unless you want make up rings on your socks.
Tidbit No. 2: I'm really competitive. I've been that way my whole life, but have only recently realized it. It doesn't matter what's going on. I always have to win whatever game I'm playing. If I don't, then the game sucks and I'm not friends with whoever kicked my ass for at least 5 minutes.
Tidbit No. 3: I really hate when the window is open when I'm sleeping if it's less than say, 70 degrees or so outside. I wake up with a horrific sore throat every time. James and I have tried to find a happy medium, but the sore throat results in me snoring and then him rolling me around the bed to shut me up. I don't win that battle. So every night, I don't like him for at least 5 minutes.
Tidbit No. 4: I really really really hate it when clocks are set to the wrong time. Right now, my computer clock says 6:32 pm, so I can promise you that every clock in my apartment says 6:32 pm right now as well. I don't know where this comes from, but I really cannot stand it when clocks say different times. If every clock is wrong, that's fine. But they all need to be in sync (not like the boy band). I might be a little OCD and I'm totally cool with that.
Tidbit No. 5: I typically don't care what people think of me. I don't care if someone sees me out shopping with my hair a ratted mess, make up all down my face, and wearing sweats that are 2 sizes too big for me. But if someone doesn't laugh at something funny I said, I take it very personally. Call me ugly, call me lazy, don't call me unfunny.
Tidbit No. 6: I can fall asleep at any time I want to and anywhere I want to. Doesn't matter the time of day, what's going on, or who's there. Give me 3 minutes with my eyes closed and I'll be dreaming in 4.
Tidbit No. 7: Whenever Danny and James are gone and I have the apartment to myself, I always plan to watch TV, read a book, pluck my eyebrows, and other assorted things that one can think of to get done when no one else is home. But almost every time I have the time to myself, I sit in front of my computer and waste my day away on MySpace, TMZ and Perez Hilton.
OK, so there it is. I'm not tagging anyone though. It's not that I'm too lazy, it's that I don't know how. Alright, I'm too lazy to take the time to learn how.
It's your turn.
OK, two followers, one person I know who reads my blog but isn't a follower, and any and everyone else. I have an update. If you read the post that I did last night, you'll know that I was pondering what makes one qualify as a best friend. Damn Paris Hilton. I half jokingly mentioned maybe starting a BFF friend search like Paris Hilton. Minus the skanks and parties and MTV camera crew. However, I have received 2 comments on people who said they'd be down to do it. Danielle thinks it's fucking hilarious (I might have over exaggerated a little), so we're doing it. We were just talking on the phone and started throwing around some ideas to get the ball rolling. She said I need to make a list of things I love and things I hate. So off the top of my head, here's what I have so far.
Things I Love:
*Sex and the City
*bad music (bad meaning Britney Spears. If you're laughing, you're automatically DQ'd)
*The Real Housewives of (fill in city here, except New York. I hate those bitches)
*ok....most reality TV
And now on to..
Things I Hate:
*when clocks are wrong
*The Real Housewives of New York
*worms, slugs, snails - basically all things that have less than one leg (people excluded) and things that have more than six legs
Alright. So there's the rough draft of the list. I'm sure it will change a million times because as I previously mentioned, I'm really forgetful and I can't think of anything else right now.
Danielle and I also discussed what does it mean to be an internet best friend. Like, what does the winner get out of it. I was thinking big and thought that the winner can have an all expenses unpaid trip to San Francisco and we can have lunch (of your choice because you're paying). She thought that was cool. Then she said that maybe the winner can also have an autographed picture of yours truly. Insert obvious one liner here (Save it because it'll be worth money some day).
We also need to come up with a list of challenges that can all be done online. So no, I won't ask anyone to eat a fetal pig's no no parts. I might ask you to post videos. Ohh...that one just came to me! Maybe you can even do my homework! Happy day! I dunno. We shall see.
And as if all this isn't already cool enough, Danielle's gonna do it too! I know you guys are jumping off your chairs and screaming like you just saw Brangelina walk into your living room. It's exciting, I know. I'm stoked too.
OK, so there it is. The stupid Paris Hilton idea runs through my mind onto my fingertips and onto Blogger. Should be fun and definitely interesting. :)
One sunny day late in January 2009, an old man approached the White House from across Pennsylvania Avenue , where he'd been sitting on a park bench.
He spoke to the U. S. Marine standing guard and said, 'I would like to go in and meet with President Bush.'
The Marine looked at the man and said, 'Sir, Mr. Bush is no longer president and no longer resides here.'
The old man said, 'Okay' and walked away.
The following day, the same man approached the White House and said to the same Marine, 'I would like to go in and meet with President Bush.'
The Marine again told the man, 'Sir, as I said yesterday, Mr. Bush is no longer president and no longer resides here.'
The man thanked him and, again, just walked away.
The third day, the same man approached the White House and spoke to the very same U. S. Marine, saying 'I would like to go in and meet with President Bush.'
The Marine, understandably agitated at this point, looked at the man and said, 'Sir, this is the third day in a row you have been here asking to speak to Mr Bush. I've told you already that Mr. Bush is no longer the president and no longer resides here. Don't you understand?'
The old man looked at the Marine and said, 'Oh, I understand. I just love hearing it.'
The Marine snapped to attention, saluted, and said, 'See you tomorrow!!!!!'.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Despite my keen sense of adaptability (is that even a word?), I'm not really much one for change. I used to like Facebook. Until they changed the layout. But yesterday, MySpace launched this new 2.0 thing or whatever it's called. I took to it quite well. In fact, I kinda love it. And I took down my Barack Obama layout for something less political and maybe more cute. Not saying he's ugly..I'm just saying something different that the seriousness of politics. Anyway, I like my MySpace layout so much that I have now made it my blog layout. There's a gazillion layouts out www.pyzam.com if you're interested. Just don't use this one.
I wasn't planning on discussing this, but the TV is on for background noise. And Paris Hilton is auditioning people for a new best friend. So it makes me wonder, 1. WTF happened to Nicole Ritchie? 2. Why would anyone want to be Paris Hilton's bff? 3. Why do they just keep giving reality shows to any and everyone?
I'm thinking, what would the criteria be to find a new best friend? Do people actually go out and meet friends with a mental check list of what their friends should or should not be? What makes your regular friends different from good friends and different from best friends?
No, I'm not the girl that doesn't have any friends. I have friends. And I have my best friend. Who I didn't like when I first met, by the way. I'm just curious what makes people decide who is who and what is what.
And I'm thinking that I should have a blogger best friend search! How cool would that be? But Danielle, you can't play. Read the fine print. It's not for friends and family. You're already employed here.
I think that when I figure out how to pimp out my blog and get more than 2 followers (thanks for the pity, Brittany) maybe we can make a game and have new internet best friends that we don't know. Thoughts?
FINE PRINT: Danielle cannot play this game.
Friday, November 7, 2008
If you know me, you know that I have the worst memory ever. Truth be told, in my 30 years of life, I've been through more than most people at the age of 50. And I'm OK with that. The past is what made me who I am today. I'm writing this blog now to rant and to rave about a couple different things in no particular order. I know I warned you guys before about my bad formatting in blogs and whatever else I decide to write. But you're a smart person, you can figure it all out. Well, most of you are smart people. I won't name names....but you, you know who you are, you really are an idiot. No nice way to say it.
Back to the topic at hand, this week has been one of the most memorable weeks in my lifetime. And there aren't really many that I can remember. I remember the week my mom died, I remember the week of my son's birth, I remember the week my dad's life changed forever, I remember the week of 9/11, I remember the week I left Minnesota to come back home to California, and I remember the week that James and I became one. I know that's kinda cheesy, but we're not married and I don't want to say we starting going "steady" because that's even more cheesy. But this week we as a country made history. And I didn't think it could be done.
****For the record, I did NOT vote for Barack Obama based on the fact that he is black.****
I voted for Barack Obama because I want the troops to come home and stop fighting a war that is not ours, I believe that a woman has the right to choose what she wants to do with a fetus that is growing within her, I believe that we need to come together as a country and help each other to get ourselves out of this mess that Dubbya put us in.
I have friends that are Republican. I respect every one's opinions. I also like to tease and joke with people and people always tease me and joke back with me. On election night, a friend of mine and I had a bit of a political comment war on My Space. All in good fun. But then, Barack Obama was announced the projected winner. And then all the sudden, this particular Republican friend of mine was no longer in the mood for teasing and joking. Apparently, no Republican was in the mood for happiness or positivity of any sort. Poor John McCain trying to give his concession speech had to tell his followers numerous times to stop booing and be proud and to give support to the new president elect. McCain's speech gave me more respect for him because he was such a supporter for the country that he loves so much, he was just honored to make the presidential ballot and honored that he still has the opportunity to serve the country he loves. He was very gracious in his loss.
I wish I could say the same for the majority of Republicans that I've encountered who took the loss with him.
Within hours, I was seeing people posting My Space bulletins saying how the country is going to hell. Our president elect supports terrorism. If he's not white, he's not right. He's Muslim. He's this he's that. Every American that voted for him is an ignorant person who voted for him JUST BECAUSE HE IS BLACK.
It amazes me how people are. I can guarantee you that if McCain had won the election, there wouldn't be all this trash talking. In my disgust for the way people are talking and posting these bulletins chalk full of lies, I changed my status on My Space to "Tiffany wonders why people can't lose gracefully". This caused a bit of friction with my friend as she thought I was taking target directly at her. We went back and forth with a few messages and I eventually was indirectly accused of believing views other than my own are not of value. I never said anything like that. I just am really disappointed in the way this is all being handled.
I read an article yesterday on ktvu.com that really saddened me. A black family in Pleasanton, CA with a Barack Obama sign in front of their home, woke up to slashed tires and the front door spray painted with threats. Can anyone please tell me what year it is?
I am disgusted by the way people are acting. I didn't vote for George W. Bush in either election. I didn't act the way these people are acting now. No one did. So it makes me wonder, since you damn Republicans keep pulling the race card, would the loss have been softer for you if Barack Obama's name was Bill Olson, he was white, and a Bible thumping Christian? Because that's all you seem to talk about. Does his religion really matter? Since when did being Muslim make you a terrorist? Does that mean that every Pakistani, every Afghani, every Iraqi is a terrorist too? Of course not. And for one to think that way, you'd have to have your head so far up your prejudiced ass that you smell shit for a week. I don't personally know anyone that voted for Barack Obama based solely on the fact that he is half black. Half!! The other half is white! But that doesn't matter either. He could have been blue with orange stripes and silver polka dots and I would not have cared less. His race is simply an added bonus to the package. I am excited for and proud of our country for electing him president despite his race. I never thought I'd see the day when we would have someone of color (black, Hispanic, Asian, Indian, etc.) in the White House. And you should be proud too.
I cannot wait for January 20th.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
WOW! I am so proud to be an American. I honest to blog didn't think that in my lifetime I'd see a black president. I am so happy that we have come so far, even though clearly, we have so far to go. I've never been so excited for an election. This is definitely one for the history books. I literally have tears of joy. So to everyone, thank you. Everyone's vote counts. We did it. My faith is officially restored.
Monday, November 3, 2008
I was going to blog about it like 2 weeks ago and I never did. I forgot. OK. I didn't forget. I got lazy. Blogging can be time consuming. And I have the attention span of a 4 year old drinking Red Bull.
I completed the Nike Run Like a Girl Half Marathon in San Francisco on October 19th. How you ask? I don't know exactly, but when I find out, I'll let you know. I didn't really train for it. I went to the gym avidly for the first few months after I signed up for it (I signed up in like...I dunno. March). The last 3 months I drove past the gym, smiled, waved, and kept on going about my business.
Someone in that sort of condition really has no business trying to complete a half marathon. 13.1 miles is a looooong way. Especially is San Francisco where the hills are HELLACIOUS. But I did. And my total time was 4 hours 35 minutes and 21 seconds. I did not run or job a single step of it. However, I did get some pretty bad ass blisters on my feet and tendonitis. What's even cooler is that I got a Tiffany's necklace for completing it. That certainly was my motivation to finish.
As I was going through the course, I noticed photographers in random areas. I figured they were just from local papers. Oh no. I was wrong. Turns out Nike was "nice" enough to have photographers take our pictures so they could spead them all over the internet. Since I did not even attempt to train or lose weight or do anything to actually resemble someone that runs, I'm not exactly overjoyed by these photos. Perhaps I'm being overly critical of myself. Perhaps I'm not. I figured maybe I should post a few of the pics here so that if anyone is going to make fun of me, you have the opportunity to do so to my face via my blog.....and now I'm realizing that I can't post them. So here's the link.
Here's my mile markers to prove I did it.
My name was also on the window of Nike Town (sans phone number for a good time).
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Anyone that has children or raises other people's children knows that there are many many obstacles to overcome in trying to teach these kids what's right and what's wrong amongst the 5 gazillion other things we need to instill in them. Today, Danny taught me again that it is hard to lecture, nag, and/or discipline when what he does is probably the same thing I would do....as an adult.
Case in point: As we were trying to get out of the Safeway parking lot, some idiot in front of me decided that he wanted to turn left onto Fremont Blvd. Fremont Blvd. is a very busy intersection. You'd be lucky if you can even go right out of this particular driveway. So he had at least 6 cars plus the Burger King drive thru backed up while we all waited for him to get his stupid ass out of the way. Some other dumb ass starts honking his horn behind me as if that will solve the world's problems. Finally there's a brief moment where he can gun it and make it across. I move out to the right and get into the far left turning lane (it makes sense if you've seen the intersection) and the honking guy pulls up next to me in the outside turning lane.
And he's staring at me. Like I'm the one that caused everyone to sit and wait. Now typically, I'd yell out the window and tell him to fuck off and what not. But this guy was just strange. He held eye contact with me for like 6 seconds and it creeped me out. So I looked away.
Danny is sitting in the passenger's seat and hears me mumble to myself what a fucking freak show this guy is.
So we're sitting at the light for what seems to be an eternity. If you know me, you know that I most likely have a mild case of ADD. We sat there for so long, that I'm not kidding you, I forgot about the freak staring me down. Then....
I look over and freak show is talking to me.
"WHAT?" WTF does this jerk off want?
"You better look at your kid and tell him to get his hand in the car."
I look at him like he's out of his mind. Don't tell me what to do with my kid. Then my mind starts thinking about what I'd do if I was a kid and some honking freak show was staring at my mom. So I say:
"What are you talking about? What did he do?"
"He's flipping me off."
Now...as a parent..how do I handle this? Do I have five Danny because that's really what I want to do? Do I tell him that freak show might have a gun and it's not cool to flip off people? You have to know who's the right candidate after all...
So I tell Danny loudly (so that freak show hears), "Keep your hands in the car. You can't flip off people, they might be FUCKING CRAZY."
And I really try so hard not to smile or laugh while telling Danny this. I did pretty good. But now poor Danny probably thinks I was mad at him. I just can't tell him that it was funny because then he'll do it all the time. Ha..like he doesn't do it now.
A couple of weeks ago, my festive neighbors put two pumpkins outside their door. Not carved, not decorated, just two pumpkins sitting on the hallway floor looking for attention. I've been looking at them every day thinking of ways to spice them up. Use a Sharpee for expletives...no, I don't know them well enough for them to see my humor. Roll then down the stairs...could be funny, but not nice. Carve them....hell no. Make them into pumpkin pie...too much work. So there they sat. Lonely. Boring. Plain. Kinda like some creepy lady that has 50 cats and collects finger nails in a jar. Blah.
Angee flew out from Minnesota on Thursday night. My friend Sami let Danny sleep over on Saturday night so that Angee and I could do the half marathon on Sunday (another blog, another time). Sami asked Danny if he wanted to carve pumpkins on Sunday and he said ok. Then I remembered that a couple years ago, I got some Halloween stuff on clearance. So I pulled it out of the drawer thinking in was those pokey pattern things. Well they weren't. Instead, they were those stickers you put on pumpkins when you're too lazy to carve.
Ding ding ding! I had a brilliant idea. Let's kidnap the neighbor's pumpkins and decorate them with stickers! And so we did on Friday morning.
We put them back in their respective places in the hallway looking way cooler than cat ladies that collect finger nails. Now they're like the guy at the club that hits on every girl because he has too much confidence but still goes home alone. Hey, at least it's an upgrade, right?
Angee and I were so proud of ourselves. The neighbors had no idea who pulled this massive trick on them and their pumpkins.
By Saturday morning, the stickers were falling off. But I noticed that someone was putting them back on. Over the past few days I've seen the steps repeated. Stickers fall off and someone puts them back on.
Tonight as I was walking up the stairs to my apartment, my neighbor, one half of the pumpkin owners asked me if I did that to their pumpkins. I tried to lie. Actually, I believe my head was shaking "no" as my mouth said "yes". He laughed and thanked me and said that they really like them.
No good deed goes unnoticed.
And that is just one of my stories for today.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
My friend Sami's family has a beautiful home in South Lake Tahoe that I am fortunate enough to have an open invitation to go to any time Sami goes up. Her father Gary, sister Melissa (Melis), and Melis's boyfriend Lalo all live there So when we go up for the weekend, we stay in an extra bedroom and always have the best time.
Last weekend, Danny and I went with Sami, Sami's boyfriend Kenny, and Sami's mom (who is also a friend of mine) Debi. The purpose of this trip was not just to get away, but to go to Genoa, NV for the annual Candy Dance. No, it's not a place you go to and see Candy Dance. I still don't fully understand why it's called the Candy Dance. But there is a street in Genoa called Candy Dance.
Genoa is a very small town that seems to be in a time warp. There's a town hall, a couple antiques shops, a bar, a realtor, a candy store, a fire department...I think that's about it. But what's so cool is that these buildings are so incredibly old. Everything looks like it's come out of an old western movie. I'll get back to that in a minute.
The purpose of the Candy Dance is it's a craft fair. There are booths as far as the eye can see full of jams, homemade jewelry, sweatshirts sewn into something your 5th grade teacher or great aunt would wear, and of course all the food you can imagine.
There's lots of cool things and Genoa and the Candy Dance. The first cool thing was once we parked and walked to meet the rest of our group, we happened upon a gun fight. Nothing really to say about it, just that it was cool and cheesy and you should have been there.
However, my absolute most favorite thing about Genoa is The Genoa Bar. No, I'm not an alcoholic. I did not spend the majority of my day there. But the bar is the oldest bar in all of Nevada. Established in 1853 to be exact. And from the looks of it, not much has changed. It's rich in history, intriguing, and just a cool place over all.
I could be wrong, but I don't think the floor boards in The Genoa Bar have been replaced. They creak, the kinda cave in, and they're very very old wood. Sami's uncle Rick grabbed me a brochure so I intend to give you some history from that.
Here's some excerpts. Oh any by the way, it is written as though the bar wrote it itself:
The top of my bar is original from the front to mid-way where you'll see a line across it. The medallions on the ceiling above the lights are original as is the one red oil lamp which is lit every New Year's Eve. The electric lamps are also original to the bar and were oil but were converted to electricity at the turn of the century....
The Diamond Dust Mirror on the back of the bar came from Glasgow, Scotland, in the late 1840's. It was shipped around the "horn" to San Francisco, then brought here by covered wagon. Originally, there were two mirrors, but one was sold to a movie company in the 1930's during the great depression.. The mirror has only been out of the saloon three times in history, the last time in 1910 when it was saved from the great Genoa Fire which destroyed most of the town....
Many famous people have visited over the years. Among them, Mark Twain when he first reported for the Territorial Enterprise which opened in Genoa before moving to Virgina City. Presidents Ulysses S. Grant and Theodore "Teddy" Roosevelt enjoyed "cool ones", perhaps right where you're standing. Carol Lombard and Clark Gable came here to play high stakes poker games with the local cattle barons. Among the other famous and infamous, Lauren Bacall, Ronnie Howard, Red Skelton, Cliff Robertson and all of our Nevada Governors have come through my doors.....
A number of movies have been filmed here including "The Shootist" with John Wayne, "Carley Varrick" with Walter Mathau ad Joe Don Baker, "Honky Tonk Man" with Clint Eastwood, "Misery" with James Caan, Kathy Bates, Rob Reiner and Richard Farnsworth, and most recently (last summer) "Till the River Runs Dry" starring Ann-Margaret....
Musicians seem to gravitate here. I've welcomed Willie Nelson, Charlie Daniels, Merle Haggard, Waylon Jennings, Johnny Cash, Slim Pickens, John Denver, and Captain and Tennille to name a few.
Click here for more information about The Genoa Bar.
Click here for more information about The Candy Dance.
My son is on this whole kick of growing his hair out. Why? I still am trying to figure this one out. Maybe to grow it out and cut it for Locks of Love? No. Maybe to keep his head warm since we live in such a cold climate? Oh, that's right. We live in the Bay Area; therefore there is no weather deemed cold enough to require long hair on an 11 year old boy.
I've been asking Danny just about every day for the past 2 months if today would be the day we'd go get his hair cut. And every day he says no.
OK. I get it. I know that kids are growing out their hair now. It's the style. I'm not exactly sure why being that little boys all over Fremont are starting to look like dirty little girls. It makes me wonder if they don't bother to look in mirrors. Who exactly thinks it looks good?
And the thing with Danny's hair is that he's got bad hair. It grows at different rates so it's different lengths. This is why he needs to keep it short because then at least it can be maintained. He has a cowlick from hell right where Dennis the Menace does.
So last Wednesday or Thursday morning, I get up in the morning and you know...the morning ritual. Pee, get in the shower, blah blah blah. Then I look in the bathroom garbage can and see this lock of hair. I know right away that it's Danny's. I kinda chuckle to myself and forget about it. But I was telling my friend Sami about it and said, "How funny would it be if it's that one piece that always stands up on the top of his head?"
The next morning, I asked Danny about the hair in the bathroom garbage can. He told me this one piece was driving him crazy and he pointed to the top of his head. And wouldn't you know, that it was the cowlick! But. Here's the kicker.
Not only did he cut off a lock of hair on the top of his head. But he did it in a way that when looking at his head, you can't even tell. I'd like to know how he did that and I find myself wondering if maybe that's going to be his hidden talent. Maybe I should have him cut my hair.
I know it's been awhile since I've blogged. I've been lazy. I know. Sorry. So, I will be posting a few today to make up for time lost.
Posted by Tiffany at 12:22 PM
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Posted by Tiffany at 7:26 AM
Monday, September 29, 2008
I just got this in an email from my aunt and it's just too important not to share.
This is the story of our Grandmothers and Great-grandmothers; they lived only 90 years ago.
Remember, it was not until 1920 that women were granted the right to go to the polls and vote.
The women were innocent and defenseless, but they were jailed nonetheless for picketing the White House, carrying signs asking for the vote.
And by the end of the night, they were barely alive.
Forty prison guards wielding clubs and their warden's blessing went on a rampage against the 33 women wrongly convicted of 'obstructing sidewalk traffic.'
They beat Lucy Burns, chained her hands to the cell bars above her head and left her hanging for the night, bleeding and gasping for air.
They hurled Dora Lewis into a dark cell, smashed her head against an iron bed and knocked her out cold. Her cellmate, Alice Cosu, thought Lewis was dead and suffered a heart attack.
Additional affidavits describe the guards grabbing, dragging, beating, choking, slamming, pinching, twisting and kicking the women.
Thus unfolded the 'Night of Terror' on Nov. 15, 1917, when the warden at the Occoquan Workhouse in Virginia ordered his guards to teach a lesson to the suffragists imprisoned there because they dared to picket Woodrow Wilson's White House for the right to vote.
For weeks, the women's only water came from an open pail. Their food--all of it colorless slop--was infested with worms.
When one of the leaders, Alice Paul, embarked on a hunger strike, they tied her to a chair, forced a tube down her throat and poured liquid into her until she vomited. She was tortured like this for weeks until word was smuggled out to the press.
So, refresh my memory. Some women won't vote this year because-
We have carpool duties? We have to get to work? Our vote doesn't matter? It's raining?
Last week, I went to a sparsely attended screening of HBO's new movie 'Iron Jawed Angels.' It is a graphic depiction of the battle these women waged so that I could pull the curtain at the polling booth and have my say. I am ashamed to say I needed the reminder.
All these years later, voter registration is still my passion. But the actual act of voting had become less personal for me, more rote. Frankly, voting often felt more like an obligation than a privilege. Sometimes it was inconvenient.
My friend Wendy, who is my age and studied women's history, saw the HBO movie, too. When she stopped by my desk to talk about it, she looked angry. She was--with herself. 'One thought kept coming back to me as I watched that movie,' she said. 'What would those women think of the way I use, or don't use, my right to vote? All of us take it for granted now, not just younger women, but those of us who did seek to learn.' The right to vote, she said, had become valuable to her 'all over again.'
HBO released the movie on video and DVD . I wish all history, social studies and government teachers would include the movie in their curriculum I want it shown on Bunco night, too, and anywhere else women gather. I realize this isn't our usual idea of socializing, but we are not voting in the numbers that we should be, and I think a little shock therapy is in order.
It is jarring to watch Woodrow Wilson and his cronies try to persuade a psychiatrist to declare Alice Paul insane so that she could be permanently institutionalized. And it is inspiring to watch the doctor refuse. Alice Paul was strong, he said, and brave. That didn't make her crazy.
The doctor admonished the men: 'Courage in women is often mistaken for insanity.'
Please, if you are so inclined, pass this on to all the women you know.
We need to get out and vote and use this right that was fought so hard for by these very courageous women. Whether you vote democratic, republican or independent party - remember to vote.
History is being made.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Posted by Tiffany at 11:23 AM
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Of all the stupid injuries I've had in my life time, last night's might be the stupidest of all. (Is stupidest a word?)
In 9th grade, I was playing tag football in P.E. and some BIG girl took it upon herself to tackle me and break my thumb. That same year, I split open my knee jumping hurdles. I guess that's not so stupid, but still. As an adult, I broke my ankle at my old job. That is not funny, but the way I did it was. I was standing on a table trying to hang all the legal crap posters in the office. More specifically, I was hanging a workman's comp poster while standing on a table. So as I was coming off of the table, my ankle just decided it wanted to play a trick on me, I fell and it broke. Pretty funny, right? Well two surgeries (one experimental) and 5 million hours of physical therapy later, I'm walking and all is good. For the most part. People laugh to this day when I they see the scars and ask about them.
Up until last night, that was my dumbest injury.
I am not a domestic goddess. I do the best that I can with my abilities, however, I'm no Martha Stewart or Betty Crocker and certainly no Rachel Ray. I decided I was going to make taco salad for dinner. Everything was going well. I didn't burn anything or anyone.
But I cut myself. How, do you ask? Was I chopping lettuce? No. Was I chopping tomatoes? No. There was no knife involved. A container of Daisy Sour Cream was the culprit. I attempted to take the plastic lid off and then remove the foil lining. As I was lifting the plastic lid, I felt a slice right into my stupid finger. And there was blood. Enough to bleed through a band aid. What the hell? Never in my life have I heard of anyone cutting their finger on a plastic container. Leave it up to me to be the first.
I hate this week.
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1) - Cite This Source - Share This
/frɛnd/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[frend] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.
a person who gives assistance; patron; supporter: friends of the Boston Symphony.
a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile: Who goes there? Friend or foe?
a member of the same nation, party, etc.
(initial capital letter) a member of the Religious Society of Friends; a Quaker. –verb (used with object)
Rare. to befriend. —Idiom
make friends with, to enter into friendly relations with; become a friend to.
[Origin: bef. 900; ME friend, frend, OE fréond friend, lover, relative (c. OS friund, OHG friunt (G Freund), Goth frijōnds), orig. prp. of fréogan, c. Goth frijōn to love]
And that's all for now.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Word of advice for anyone looking for an apartment in Fremont, California; DO NOT MOVE HERE.
I am so pissed. Last week we got a notice posted on both doors at the front of our building saying that they would be repaving the drive way on September 22nd. Actually, more specifically, it reads as follows:
MONDAY SEPTEMBER 22, 2008 BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 8:00 - 6:00 PM
THE ASPHALT WILL BE REPAIRED AND REPLACED. RESIDENTS ARE REQUIRED TO MOVE THEIR CARS FROM ANY HIGHLIGHTED AREA BEFORE THIS TIME. ANY CARS STILL PLACED IN ANY UNCOVERED SPOT WILL BE TOWED AT THE OWNER OF THE VEHICLE'S EXPENSE.
WATERSTONE SUGGESTS PARKING YOUR CAR ON LESLIE, BIDWELL, FREMONT BLVD. OR SUNDALE DURING THIS TIME.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING.
WATERSTONE AT FREMONT MANAGEMENT STAFF
Guess what happened!? They towed the Trans Am. I went to the office and saw a stack of Mapquested directions to the tow yard. I spoke with the manager and she said that everyone was notified of the parking situation. Then she pulls out another notice that was posted after the first one. Two days later to be precise.
If you do not move your car by 7:30 AM you will be towed at your own expense. If you fail to remove your car you may call AA Wheat Tow at 510-972-1900 to make arrangements to pick up your vehicle. Please keep in mind that it will be a minimum charge of $295.00 that you will have to pay in-order to have your vehicle released.
We cannot stress the importance of this to you and we will not reimburse anyone for not removing their vehicle. You may park on the street until the work is complete. We do not have any other parking area in which you may move your vehicle on the property.
If you have any questions please feel free to call the office at 510-656-7552.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation and understanding.
I did in fact get this notice. But to be completely honest, I didn't even realize it until after I talked to the manager. Why would a property management company take the time to go around the complex and post information, to only give new information 2 days later? As you can see, the second notice is quite different from the first notice. For the record, the Tans Am was park in a COVERED UN-HIGHLIGHTED SPACE. I feel they should have made more of an attempt to let residents know. As a result, we have to pay $380 to get the car out of the tow yard. And I'm sure that fee will continue to increase if we don't get it out tomorrow.
Moral of the story, this apartment complex BLOWS and I can't wait to get the f**k out of here. I wish we could do it right now.
In the beginning of my time, there was no internet. Hell, I don't even think there were home computers. But I remember being fascinated with computers come 2nd or 3rd grade and playing Oregon Trail on a black screen with everything in green on a floppy disc that was bigger than my hands.
Now I simply cannot function without a computer. I am a MySpace addict. I need to check my email excessively, I'm working on my AA online, all my music is online, I need a computer to do my job...the list goes on and on.
So this morning, my best friend informs me, and the rest of MySpace that she created a blog here and kinda sorta made me do it too. She didn't threaten my life or anything, but I always have to do what she does. So fine. Here's my blog Danielle.
As for the rest of you who don't know me, let me give you some background. The first being (and probably most important in the blogosphere) is that I'm a good writer in the sense that I use proper grammar and punctuation. I don't however do well with paragraphs or any other type of formatting one might expect. So if you can get past that, we're all good. Back to me. I'm 30 friggin' years old. I'm still learning to deal with it as it's all new to me. About 23 days new to me to be exact. I have an 11 year old son. Still getting used to that too. Who tells kids to grow up so fast? I have a boyfriend James who I've been with for about 4 1/2 years, give or take a few months. We live in the SF Bay Area. I have lived what seems to be just about half of everywhere in the United States. Born in Portland, OR. Raised mostly in the Bay, although I've lived in Utah, Minnesota, Texas, Florida, Oregon...and I really feel like I'm missing something in between. I went to more schools than I can remember. My parents were kinda sorta hippy gypsy type people with some illegal activities involved. So yeah...definitely hippy gypsies. I lived with various family members growing up as a result of my parents lack of respect for responsibility. All of these things have made me into the person I am today. Not many people grew up the way I did and I honest to God don't think I'd change it if I could. I've learned what people are all about and how stuff works.
I often find myself rambling in my mind and just thinking about one thing that leads me to the next and the next. Last week, I was out back of the warehouse where I work and saw a crane standing in the water/sewer run off that I hope doesn't lead into the Bay although I'm pretty sure it does. Anyway, this stork was just standing there in the water looking down. I'm guessing he was fishing. So there I was, on my cell phone talking about nothing in particular and wondering if this crane was fishing. Or maybe he was cooling off. Or playing. Who knows.
But this got me to thinking. Do animals, fish, reptiles, blah blah blah do everything with a purpose? Think about it this way. We buy HD TVs, video game consoles, expensive computers, alcohol, cigarettes, hookahs, drugs, books...anything that is someone's vice. And aside from the entertainment factor, what is the point? That crane has it easy. All he does is look for food to eat, find a mate to reproduce, and sleep. He doesn't worry about getting the latest iPhone, the latest UFC pay per view, or car insurance. Life in it's simplest form.
So that got me to thinking. Do you think that all animals are homeless? Or do they have a dedicated spot in the bush that is theirs and theirs alone. Do you think the crane (let's name him Joe) gets pissed if Sally Squirrel's kid, Albert* goes into Joe's little spot in the bush looking for food?
Do you think Joe and Sally Squirrel worry about where their next meals are coming from? Or do you suppose that they are so confident in their survival skills that they don't even worry about that? And if Joe really was fishing in that run off...what about the fish? Do you think that the fish he could have caught has family like Finding Nemo? I wonder if it's like a horrible thing to happen to a fish family. Can you imagine your sister just being picked up and eaten right in front of you? Do you think that fish swim around the lakes, rivers, and oceans with or without a purpose? I think about shit like that. Do fish only stay in one part of the river because that's where their home is? Or do they just swim endlessly in search of food? And is it true that fish never sleep? If so, what a horrible existence. But if they do sleep, I'm pretty sure they don't lay down.
Until next time....
Oh, and * refers to Albert. The true story of a snotty nosed kid in Ohio. Read about him and Cliff here.