Monday, October 30, 2006

overheard at dinner last night

foreword: my sister has a history of--well, not knowing what stuff is. a classic example would be the time that we were explaining to her what our days would be like when we went on vacation to key west--let's just say it involved all of us drinking a lot of cocktails. anyway, after much discussion, she finally asked "um, so what exactly is in a cocktail? is it just rum and coke or something?"

setting: yummy italian restaurant for big furry bear's birthday dinner. big furry bear and tim go up to the bar to have a smoke, b.j., b.g., and i remain at the table.

b.j.: hey you guys, should we order vinny his free birthday cannoli while he's gone?

me and b.g.: *still talking amongst ourselves, probably about something dumb. like bring sexy back, but needing a receipt.*

b.j.: *impatiently* hey! should we order vinny's birthday cannoli while he's up at the bar?

me: he can order it when he gets back. calm down, girl!

b.g.: she probably just wants it to get here soon so she can find out what a cannoli is.

b.j.: *laughing* oh my god, you're totally right.

afterword: anyway, for the record, my sister is not dumb at all. in fact, she graduates college in two months. i suppose questions such as the above are just part of being one's big sister. and, yes, i know that there is nothing wrong with not knowing what a cannoli is. it was just a really classic b.j. moment, and it made me smile.

in which i boss you around

you know how we're all always checking each other's blogs Every Five Minutes to see if maybe someone else has posted something new yet, even though we're all obviously Very Busy and Important People who should be doing other Very Important Things?

i thought maybe--seeing as how we've recently started admitting how much we like this 'little blog family thing' that we've got going--we should take a minute to take a deep breath and realize how much all this actually means to all of us, and check out this post.
maybe it's time we branched out a bit.
the world is waiting, people.
for us.
because we are awesome.
and i'm sure we all know about a lot of awesome blogs that deserve mentioning.
voting ends on 11/3, so if you want to participate, GET HOPPING!

Friday, October 27, 2006

a public service announcement

i have not been feeling well lately.

it all started when i went to game 2 of the world series on sunday, and woke up on monday with what might have been The Worst Hangover Of All Time. and, people? for me, that is saying A LOT.

anyhow, as i went to sleep on monday night, i comforted myself with the thought that i would feel like a normal person on tuesday.

i was wrong.

on tuesday i had a sinus infection.

may you all be warned, the world series may try to kill you.


you know how the worst part about having fucked up sinuses is when you blow your nose and blow your nose AND BLOW YOUR NOSE and no matter what you do, you still can't breathe?

well, i have found the solution.
and it is called Afrin 12 hour nasal spray.*

for the record, i am sorry to talk to you about something as gross as nasal spray.
but, seriously?
this stuff is amazing.

i mean, have you ever had one of those nights when you were sick and you kept flipping from one side to the other so that you could switch which side of your face was all stuffed up?


am i the only one?

anyway, this stuff will cure you of that.
and while you still will not feel well AT ALL, you will be able to breathe out of your nose and go about your public business as if you are not a mouth-breathing neandrethal.
so, you know.
that's probably a good thing.

*for the record, i think lamamala told me about this at least 10 years ago, and i was all ' no way am i squirting something up my nose.'
anyway--no big surprise--as usual my mother was right and i should have allowed the squirting to commence YEARS AGO!!!!

i sincerely apologize for writing such a passionate post about nose spray. but you guys have no idea how excited i am to be breathing right now.

because, breathing = good.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

jen and steph strike again.

well, well.
aren't i just the popular little blogger.

anyway, both jen and steph 'tagged' me, so i guess i'm fated to answer these questions.
plus, i'm on such a roll of posting more often lately, i'm happy to keep it going seeing as how i have a terrible cold and all the medecine means if i tried to come up with something to write on my own it might not make very much sense.*
anyway, here it goes.

1. making, eating, and selling cookies at the cookie store in the mall.
2. waiting tables at bennigan's.
3. bartending at a sportsbar in ann arbor.
4. managing at the sportsbar in ann arbor.

1. professional reader and lay-around girl.
2. teacher of literature.
3. snuggler of justin timberlake.
4. anything that comes with health insurance and doesn't make me want to stab myself in the eyeball.

1. dirty dancing.
2. the english patient.
3. romeo and juliet.
4. i heart huckabees.

1. northville, mi.
2. ypsilanti, mi.
3. ann arbor, mi.
4. ummm...north side of ann arbor, mi?

1. grey's anatomy.
2. sex and the city. yes, still. shut up.
3. anything on the food network, EXCEPT molto mario and semi-homeade. the people on those shows give me the creeps.
4. lost. (but, i watch the dvd's, so please don't tell me what's going on in the new season).

1. key west, fla. (and every other part of florida)
2. paris, france. (for a month when i was 16)
3. park city, utah. (for a week with my father's side of the family every thanksgiving, and sometimes for sundance)
4. maui, oahu, and hawaii, ha. (i've been 4 times, all before i was 11 years old. lame)

1. myspace. yes, i am a loser.
2. for items 2, 3, 4, and so on, please see my links list.

1. potatoes. anything with potatoes. also, almost any carb of any sort. especially if it involves any kind of sour cream or cheesey goodness.
2. my gandma eckhout's spaghetti. now, my grandma was not italian. but holy crap was this some good spaghetti. i try to make it the way she did, and once it tasted so close that i actually started crying, just remembering her. but i guess i'm lacking the skill because mine always tastes different.
3. anything that i didn't have to prepare myself.
don't get me wrong--i love to cook. i'm addicted to the food network, and i love to cook for other people. but i don't like to eat the food i made, at least not until later. it's weird. plus, it seems like things that other people make for me just taste way better. this includes, but is not limited to, blt's and chicken salad sandwiches prepared by lamamala, breakfasts or hamburger delight prepared by papa bates, and potato salad prepared by vinny (aka big furry bear).
4. vodka.

1. anything that lives in water.
2. anything that would scare you if you saw it crawling around your house, even if someone offered me a lot of money
3. tabouli.
4. any meat that i had to see raw.

1. this really good garlicky dip stuff that they make at the cheesecake factory. there is no cheesecake factory in michigan, because michigan sucks ass.
2. a pain in the ass with an extra shot (for only $1!!!!) on duval street.
3. grandma eckhout's spaghetti.
4. ooooh--a sugary crepe from a street vendor in paris.

1. books.
2. purses.
3. photos.
4. a shit ton of clothes.

1. bigger bed.
2. a mac.
3. more clothes.
4. justin timberlake.

1. gonzaga t-shirt.
2. gray fleecey pj bottoms.
3. uggs.
4. toe ring that's been on my toe for seven years, which i am afraid will never come off without taking my toe with it.

1. key west.
2. las vegas. (jan 15!!!!)
3. park city. (thanksgiving!!!)
4. asleep.

1. tom robbins or margaret atwood.
2. my favorite ex=prefessor, cecilia. fortunately, she emailed me the other day and i think we will be getting drunk together soon.
3. colin powell.
4. b.j.

1. i wish i could breathe through my nose.
2. my room is a mess.
3. i'm hungry.
4. justin timberlake is bringing sexyback.

1. laughing so hard you nearly pee your pants.
2. b.j., b.g., and lamamala.
3. the smell of a new book.
4. the ocean.

ok, so now that's over. but i really don't want to 'tag' anyone else. although i will just throw it out there that i really wouldn't mind reading pwt, pete, lady s, and dave's answers to these questions.

*see? that sentence made no sense!

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

and now for another something completely different

on sunday, i went to the world series.
it was awesome on many different levels.

today, i am sick, so i will be watching the game at home.

what does this mean for you?
live world series blogging, that's what!

and not just that, but live world series blogging from someone who is definitely not a baseball expert.
so, maybe this will be funny.
and maybe it won't.
i just don't know yet.

anyway, time for me to get settled in...
more in a few minutes.
so, since i've been gone i've cooked a pot of homemade chicken and vegetable soup and made some garlc bread.
i also watched one and a half really fast innings of baseball.
this whole live posting thing is going to go a lot better if something interesting starts to happen.
(and, yes, i know some people will argue that nothing interesting EVER happens in baseball. but i bet they're not from detroit, or st. louis.)

two innings done now, still no score.
the announcer just said it was a good start for nate robertson, our pitcher.
but--i don't know.
does it make me a bad tigers fan if robertson makes me nervous?

brandon innnnnnnge!!!
yay for you on first base!
well, i almost had something really exciting to blog after sneaky brandon inge made his way to third base, and robertson had a successful at-bat.
but no.
another half inning over.
ok, now time for the 4th inning, with monroe, polanco, and 'my tiger' magglio ordonez coming up to bat.
i'm hoping sometime in this inning i'll here the announcer say my favorite thing to hear during tigers games... here come the tigers!!!
i guess we'll see.
although, for some reason i feel like the tigers often turn up the volume in the 4th inning, so i'm REALLY hopeful.
b.g. wants to know why everyone says craig monroe's name wrong.
the announcer keeps saying it weird, but i can't think of a way to spell it so that you'll know what i'm talking about.

so, i guess that was pointless. but still, it's pissing us off. kind of like how the announcers mistakenly referred to the tigers as the white sox three times at the beginning of sundays game. i mean, i know everyone is all surprised that the tigers are in the world series, but, if you're announcing the game i would think you could get the teams straight. there are only two. it really shouldn't be that difficult.
well, i guess if you're a cardinals fan you might say something interesting is going on now. they have men on 2nd and 3rd and no one out.
personally, i think it sucks.

oh, good. here comes jim leyland to talk to our pitcher.
oh, i'm sorry. did i say there were 2 men on and no one out?
my bad.
while i was typing, the bases magically became loaded.
still no outs.

now please excuse me while i go have a stroke.
now it's 2-0, the cardinals.
but magically the bases are loaded again with only one out, because we just walked molina. which i guess maybe we had to do, but which is not helping me to stop having a stroke.
ok, thank god that craptastic inning is over with no more runs scored. the stroke has subsided, for now, and i will sit here and think positive thoughts about my boys showing up behind the plate in the 5th.
um, did i say 5th?
i meant i'm hopeful that my tigers are going to show up in the 6th. because their chances of scoring in the 5th are now over.
hey! wouldn't it be fun if i could liven this post up by showing you some pictures of me being THE HAPPIEST PERSON OF ALL TIME at the game on sunday?
too bad i left my thing-thing that attaches the camera to the computer at work.
i know some of you might think it's crazy to say that going to a world series game could make you THE HAPPIEST PERSON OF ALL TIME.
but, seriously. if you lived in the detroit area all these years, you might be able to understand a little bit.
plus, keep in mind that i don't have any kids or anything. so, you know, lacking the knowledge of the joy that it must be to actually create a new human life, i have to say going to the world series was pretty sweet.
i am also rather happy that joel zumaya is warming up in the bullpen right now.
strawberry popsicles are good.

the tigers being scoreless in the 7th, however, is not so good.
the best thing about watching the game from home, aside from the pajama wearing, is that i can change the channel when they sing 'God Bless America' during the 7th inning stretch.
not that i want america to be un-blessed or anything. i mean, i do live here, as does literally every person i love in the whole world. but that song just makes me think about war, for some reason. i think it's because we started singing it every 5 minutes after 9/11, and since 9/11 there's been a lot of--um, war. so, it's totally not the song's fault.
but, i'm trying to watch baseball, not get all depressed thinking about political stuff. so, yeah. i just watched friends for a minute and it was much better.
um, who is this guy wearing the zumaya jersey? i think maybe we have an imposter, because normally i don't have to have a stroke like this when a closer is pitching unless todd jones is on the mound.
not that todd jones is bad. he's kinda similar to robertson, actually. they both manage to get the job done most of the time, they just give you a stroke in the process. it's never quite clean. they let it slip until you think you are going to die (i actually had to turn my back to the field at the end of the last game. i just couldn't watch.) and then they get it done.
so, did zumaya just suffer a major world series meltdown, or what? he's one guy that we never have to worry about. i feel bad for him now.
god i love sean casey. did you know that at comerica park they play pearl jam every time he comes up to bat? it rules.
it also rules that we actually have someone on base with less than 2 outs.
double-plays suck ass.
i still love sean casy though. and i'm sad that he probably won't be a tiger next year.
this is the worst game ever. but i bet michelle is loving it. she's there right now, and that's awesome. you know, aside from the fact that she's cheering for the wrong team.
well, i'll be darned.
the bases are loaded again, and pujolz is up to bat. this would be really fun if i was a cardinals fan.
but, i'm not.
so i'm pretty sad right now.
also, my nose is runny, my ears hurt, and i can't stop sneezing.
pudge just took a fouled ball to the nether-regions. he doesn't seem to be enjoying himself much at the moment. poor little guy.
i think it's fun to walk people when the bases are loaded.
now the cardinals only need one more out to win. this is the part where i'm gald that i'm blogging and doing other internet related things. i just go to my happy place (read: ebay? bobbi myspace?) and try to pretend this isn't happening.
game over.
we lose.

although, there is a little teeny part of me (the part that loves baseball in general, not the tigers loving part) that feels the tiniest bit glad for cardinals fan. how nice to win the first world series game ever in your new ballpark.
of course, the tigers loving part of me then counters with the fact that they also won the first ever world series game in OUR new(ish) ballpark. so, i don't feel THAT glad for them.

on a happier note, i just found a really fantastic coach bag.

goodnight all.

Monday, October 23, 2006

october 23

my dad died two years ago today.

i really thought i was going to be able to say something important about this.
but i've just sat in front of my computer for three hours, and nothing came out.

now i have to go to bed, but this is what i'm thinking about.
my dad, who i no longer have.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

scenes from the bar

scene one, in which i think a man has me confused with someone else...

man who has been drinking in the bar for quite some time:
here's another $10, because you haven't gotten a bad attitude with us all night. you're doing a really great job. thank-you.

me: (inwardly)
is this guy on crack?*

me: (out loud)
um, ok. thanks.

same man, a few minutes later:
i'm opening a bar, and i'm going to have you come and work for me because you have such a great attitude.**

actually, i've worked for my boss since i was 18, so i think i'm going to have to stay with him until i find a 'real' job.

well, just keep it in mind. it's going to be a really cool club in mt. clemens.

sir. i bartend in ann arbor...why exactly would i want to leave here and go bartend in mt. clemens? that doesn't make any sense. but thanks for the offer.

scene 2, in which i talk dirty...

totally different guy who'd been drinking for quite some time:
tiffany, you are my angel. i'm not trying to be rude, but i would like to make sweet love to you.***

actually, i don't like making sweet love. i prefer butt sex.****

scene 3, in which i come home and blog about it...

me, sitting in front of my computer right now:
good god i'm glad this night is over.

*no, really. something was wrong with that guy.
**clearly, this man thought i was someone else. i DO NOT have a good attitude, and i resent not being recognized as my fabulously bitchy self.
***yes, he really and actually said that. verbatum.
****yes, i really and actually said that back. because, it is SOOOOO much more fun to shock someone back when they think they can get away with talking to you in an inappropriate way.
sure, i could have gotten offended and thrown his beer on him or something. but this was much more fun. oh, and i forgot to tell you that i also cut him off.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

an open letter to the mets or the cardinals, who are currently tied in the 7th inning of the 7th game of the NLCS

dear mets or cardinals,

enjoy your day off. (read: travel day)

see you in detroit on saturday.



Wednesday, October 18, 2006

classic tiffany moment # forty-four thousand eleventy hundred and three

yesterday, i came down with a tragic case of tiff-ness.

i was getting ready for work, and a friend of mine stopped by to drop something off for me. i live in one of those apartments where you have to get buzzed in from the door, but our buzzer thing has been selectively broken for years, so my friend called me when he arrived and i ran down to open the door for him.

at the door, he informed me that his girlfriend's baby was in the car.
it just so happens that one of my best friends from high school is the father of this baby, and i had never seen said baby before, so, of course i was overcome by baby craziness and i ran out the door to take a peek.*

the baby was VERY cute.

however, it was not cute enough to warrant what happened next, which was that as i was telling the baby's mama how adorable her baby was, i ended up saying something like:
oh my goodness, what a big smile! she's so precious and holy shit i just locked myself out of my apartment.

see, i hadn't planned on doing anything more than opening the door for my friend. i certainly hadn't planned on going outside.
which totally explains how i ended up outside, wearing shorts and a tank top on a forty-five degree day, with a towel wrapped around my wet hair, wearing no shoes, and holding no keys with which to let myself back into my apartment.

i had about an hour before i would have to leave for work (another task made difficult by lack of keys and proper attire) and about an hour and a half before baby girl would be home from work with her keys.

a quick scan of the parking lot suggested that none of the other people who live in my building were home to let me in.

then my friend suggested that he could climb up onto my back balcony and get in if the doorwall was unlocked. i nearly peed my pants with joy, because i know that door is almost never locked because baby girl's boyfriend goes out there to smoke, and also because, why lock a second story sliding door?**

so, we ran around the apartment, and my amazing spiderman friend actually found enough brute strength to get himself up onto the balcony.
you knew there would be a but, didn't you?
the door was locked.
for i am a paranoid freak, and when i come home from work at four am i am always afraid that someone's going to get me and sometimes i have a little bit of OCD when it comes to checking to make sure doors are locked.
but, you know, sometimes i don't, so there was a totally decent chance the door would have been unlocked.

so anyway, there i was, standing barefoot in the sea of dead wet pine needles that is my backyard, wondering how much it would cost to repair the lock if i let my friend destroy it in order to get me into my apartment, when i spy the little man who lives underneath us peering out of his hallway.

he hadn't seen me yet, but apparently he had seen the strange man hoist himself up onto my balcony. he said he knew i was home and was just sitting there, frozen, wondering if he should call the police or something.
then i waved and jumped around a little and he came to the door and let me back in.

my friend left, i had time to blow-dry my hair and get dressed before work, and i even went to starbucks.

the end.

*i honestly do not know the details of this crazy story, so please don't ask.
**because apparantly it is really not all that difficult to climb up there, that's why.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

happy birthday, bar of mine.

yesterday, the bar i work at turned five years old.

we opened on october 16th, 2001, afer months of renovating, painting, and praying. we were set back by all kinds of things we never could have imagined--read:9/11--but we finally opened. and we're still here, despite the protestations of people all over ann arbor who said our location was bad luck.

lots of stuff has happened in five years (just think--for the first three years i didn't even have a blog!), and it hasn't all been bad, despite what you read here.

it's true--lots of really great stuff has happened, too.
like the time i snuck into the employee bathroom with the owner's wife on a friday night, while she was bartending, and waited while she peed on a stick so we could find out if she was pregnant or not.
she was.

then there was the time that baby girl and i were at home watching t.v. and our boss called to ask us what we were doing that night. we quickly tried to come up with a lie--we didn't want to tell him we were doing nothing, because why else would he be calling unless he needed one of us to come to work? i told him i had a lot of homework to do, and then lied and said he couldn't talk to b.g. because she was in the bathroom. my boss then said "are you sure you can't do that homework some other time? because i have a limo on the way to pick you guys up and take you to the red wings game. oh, and you're each getting $100 of drinking money." that was awesome.

i could go on and on about fun things like that for forever and a day--i'm nothing, if not ramble-icious.

it comes down to this:
this place has made me laugh.
this place has made me cry.
this place has made me so drunk that i couldn't eat for days.
this place has made me a lot of money.

so, happy birthday.
congratulations to you, and your owners, and the four of us left who remember what you looked like before we turned you into a sportsbar.
i'm proud of you, and i love you.

just don't tell anyone, ok?

Monday, October 16, 2006


remember the good old days when someone would 'tag' you on their blog, and then you could write a whole entry on your own blog without having to think about anything except how much you love books, which was awesome because OMG you just love books so much that sometimes you think you would like to major in literature ALL OVER AGAIN because for the love of all that is holy at least you had something to do then and you didn't feel like your brain was rotting out of your head all the time, and so anyway then you would just log into your blog and write about the overwhelming book-love and POOF an entry would appear and people would read it and stuff?

yeah, those were the days.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

this has all happened before, and it will all happen again. but this time, it happened on my blog.*

i've been blogging in obscurity for quite some time.
i've never been 'tagged' before.
there are two reasons for this, as far as i can see.
1. by the time a started blogging, people were mostly over 'tagging.'
2. not very many people read my blog.

anyway, i've been tagged.**

i guess the rules are that i have to answer the following questions about books, and then 'tag' three other people to do the same.
but, i've decided to tag four people. because, on my blog, i AM the queen of the world, and that's just the way it's going to be.
i hereby declare the following people 'tagged':

1. PWT--yeah, i know you're busy with the new exciting life and all. but i figure this gives you something to post, without worrying too much about being creative. bring it on, girl!
2. Pete, because we have to make sure he's still alive.
3. Dave, because i'm really dying to see what he'll say.
4. Steph, because i know that, like me, she sometimes finds herself with nothing to write about, and she might be glad for the challenge.

Here We Go!!!

11 Books:
this is a loaded question.
i'm going to have to go with three:
1. The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera,
2. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, and
3. Skinny Legs and All by Tom Robbins.

i have read The Handmaid's Tale to pieces 5 times.

Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins. Excellent and thought provoking prose, full of romance, adventure, philosophy, mystery, comedy, sex, history...everything you could want rolled up into one really well written book.
i mean, there is just something about Tom Robbins. in this particular book, we follow the life of a king from primeval england as he searches for immortality--and you get so caught up in the beauty of robbins' story-telling that you're like 'yeah. that could totally happen.'

Bridget Jones's Diary by Helen Fielding.

The Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Patterson.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams--i mean, is there anything cleverer than the babel
Second choice = the last page of The Great Gatsby...

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And one fine morning——

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

i mean, come one.
what is better than that?

Godless: The Church of Liberalism by Ann Coulter.
i'm sorry, but but that woman is a c*nt.
yeah, that seems like a good way to describe the half of the country that worries about making sure people aren't starving in the streets.

Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie

The Ultimate Field Guide to the U.S. Economy by James Heintz and Nancy Folbre.
and also, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Playing the Guitar.

The Complete Idiot's Guide to Good Sex.

just kidding.

i love all my books!!!


The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch.
anyone in the world who has a daughter or a niece or knows a young female of any sort: you must make sure said child has this book.

this book tells the story of a little princess whose castle in burnt down by a dragon. the dragon steals her boyfriend (a prince) and flies away.
with burnt hair in shanbles, and nothing to wear but a paper bag, the princess sets off to find her boyfriend. when she finds the dragon's lair, she mischeviously uses his male ego against him, tricking him into tests of his strength until he poops out and falls asleep. then she marches into his lair to save her boyfriend, who has the nerve to belittle her on the basis of her hair and clothes.
in the end, she says:
"ronald, your clothes are really pretty and your hair is very neat. you look like a real prince, but you are a bum."


*bonus points which will win you nothing if you know this reference.

**secretly, it makes me very happy to be 'tagged.'

***"I refuse to prove that I exist," says God, "for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing."
"But," says Man, "the Babel fish is a dead giveaway isn't it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves that you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don't. Q.E.D."
"Oh dear," says God, "I hadn't thought of that," and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.
"Oh, that was easy," says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

this is a test of the emergency blog-changing system

beep beep beep beep beep beep

we now interrupt your regularly scheduled fragment sentences and bitchery to conduct a test of the 'blogger said i could get a prettier template' system.

the national blogger service recommends that you avert your eyes, and pay no attention to any fucked-up-edness that may temporarily appear in the place of your regularly scheduled blog.

areas that may be particularly affected include any customized changes that had previously been made in the tamplate of your regularly scheduled blog, such as, but not limited to: links, quotes, stat-counters and the like.

had this been a real emergency, you would have been instructed to duck and cover, because if blogger ate this blog the way it ate two years worth of another person's blog, there would be hell to pay.

thank you for your patience, and stay tuned for more updates.

beep beep beep beep beep beep

an open letter to 'anonymous'

dear anonymous,

a few posts ago, you left me a comment in which you said you would invite me to try something called 'vox.'
i'm not entirely sure what that thing is, but i think it has something to do with having a better blog.
also, invite only?
is that supposed to mean it's only for cool people?

i must be invited now!
what will all the other kids say if i show up to school with no 'vox'?

oh, wait.
sorry, i had a horrible junior high flash-back.

please invite me to your 'vox.'

tiffany (trying to fit in with the cool kids for 28 years)

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

from the vaults of tiff-ness

***in the winter of 2000, i took a class in creative writing.
this was not an easy class for me.
i know that might seem like a really dumb thing to say. i mean, obviously, i like to write. i think this blog is pretty good evidence of that.
the problem is--and some of you may have noticed this--i'm not a particularly creative person.
i mean, i can tell a pretty good story. the catch is, the stories i tell are all ACTUAL stories that ACTUALLY happened.
if you ask me to create some kind of story--say, for a creative writing class--all you will find is me, sitting in front of a computer for a very long time.
anyway, the class wasn't that bad, because we spent most of the semester doing poetry, which--while terrifying--is a bit easier to bullshit through.
when it came time to turn in a 'longer' piece of 'prose,' i was absolutely frozen.
the thought of sitting in the classroom while the rest of my classmates discussed my writing rendered me completely incapable of even going into the room where my parents kept the computer.
in true tiffany form, i managed to avoid writing a single word until the night before the assignment was due.
by that time, my task was even more daunting because i had managed to develop a MAJOR crush on one of the guys in my class.
and, of course, i managed to convince myself that even though he had never actually spoken a single word to me, if i could manage to write something fabulous he would fall in love with me and we would live happily ever after or something.
anyway, i was thinking about the piece i ended up writing recently, because my sister asked me for a copy. so, for her (and because seeing what a loser i am is fun!), here it is.***

from march 2000:


if my heart were at all functional these days, it would surely be breaking right now. i can hear my little sister crying herself to sleep in the next room. fifteen minutes ago she was in this room, crying into my pillow, and asking me for all the answers to all those questions we need answers to so badly when we are seventeen years old and heartbroken.
watching jillian cry is like being stuck in the lowest level of hell--it is bad news. jillian is a tough little cookie; she's really not at all like me. her feelings don't get hurt that often, and she only cries to get out of trouble with our parents. it's actually a little infuriating. and, it makes it that much sadder to see her so devastated--so genuinely surprised that her and her (ex)boyfriend are not, in fact, going to be together forever. i gave her a chocolate chip cookie, wiped her nose, and held her. i told her everything would be okay. we listened to britney spears sing about her own heart on the radio, and i sent her to bed.
there were a lot of other things i should have said.

dear jillian,
i think you may be asleep now. i don't hear you crying anymore. i'm supposed to be writing a story for one of my classes, but the only thing i can think of to say right now are things i should be saying to you.
just let me say, before i begin, that i do not know the answers to all of your questions. if i think i do know the answers to a few of them, it's still possible that i could be wrong. i do know for sure that i've been searching to for these very same answers since you were ten years old, and--if not absolute truths--i have at least come up with a few theories on people falling into and, consequently it seems, out of love.

what should i tell her first?
should i tell her that last night i was crying in our bathtub because i realized that i am a liar, and about to fail at another attempt at a happy relationship? it might be a bit too depressing. along with half the world, jillian thinks that boyfriend 3 and i make a perfect couple.
plus, i sound so full of shit. 'oh, poor me, i just realized that i am a liar.' i know we're all full of shit in our own ways--but jill is young. she is still somewhat idealistic. i don't want to crumble too many walls.

still, all this searching hasn't found me too much happiness. people change their minds--especially young people--and sometimes even old people who've been married for a really long time. there is nothing you can do about sucks right now because what's-his-name (i find it easier to get over someone if i just pretend like i can't remember who the fuck they are) changed his mind and you didn't, but someday you will change your mind about someone, too. the shitty part is that it really doesn't hurt any less to be on the other side of a break-up. it just hurts different.

theory #1 (this one i'm pretty sure about)
it may sound weird, but everything in the world happens in one big circle. it's a pretty big concept, i know, but think about it. you have to be aware that everything you say and do--everything you put out into the world--changes things and people that weren't even around when you did it. it's definitely scary--just try to remember what dad always says about 'what goes around comes around.' he was actually right about something! it's just that sometimes what goes around comes back around so slowly that you don't notice. but, make no mistake. it is coming back around.

i know this is true because my relationship with my boyfriend now almost exactly parallels my relationship with the boyfriend before him, except with the roles reversed. boyfriend 2 was around for four years. they were painful years. they were passionate years. they were ecstasy and despair and everything else you feel when you are sixteen years old and think you know what love is. my mother thinks that the entire experience was an enormous waste of time, but i am glad of boyfriend 2. boyfriend 2 showed me that there are two (or more) sides to every story.for real. boyfriend 2 taught me how to kick ass at tekken 3, and how to make a bong out of a soda bottle. because of him i know how to forgive and be forgiven, i can accept criticism (most of the time), and i know that

theory #2
the amount of happiness a person brings you when you are together is directly proportionate to the amount of unhappiness you feel when that person is no longer with you. i know that's not particularly comforting, but i think it's good to know anyway.

it was either because i had already come up with that theory, or because i had recently consumed five shots of crown royal in somewhat rapid succession that i puked all over my favorite sneakers exactly four minutes after the first time boyfriend 3 kissed me. it was a good kiss. it was the kind of kiss that would normally have you running off to call your best friend, if you weren't busy cleaning vomit off your shoes. to this day, i think it must have been the best kiss ever, because the euphoria it induced in me tricked me into thinking i was in love again too soon after boyfriend 2, and it was so strong a deception that i only recently realized that boyfriend 3 is actually a rebound-man. this has been a problematic realization. what are you supposed to do with a rebound man that you've accidentally been dating for a year and a half? certainly you can't just show up on his door step and say 'i'm sorry, i just realized that i'm not actually in love with you. i was fooled because you are such a good kisser. you are actually just a rebound-man to me. good-bye, i'm going to find a real boyfriend now.'

no. i don't think so.

theory #3
resolve your past before you begin your future. if you do this well, you will never find yourself in a long term relationship with someone who was only supposed to be your rebound-man. not that you have any idea what a rebound-man is at this point. but, you might soon. and if you do find yourself in need of a little pick-me-up, try to remember that the only kind of rebound-man that's worth any good at all is the 'one night stand rebound-man.' i can't believe i just wrote that to you, but it's true. wait, i meant to say 'one night stand rebound-man, with whom you have a SAFE one night stand.' ok. i guess that's better.

i know i should have said something as soon as i knew i wasn't in love with boyfriend 3. i know there's not really any excuse for withholding your feelings from someone. but, let it be said that boyfriend 3 isn't the easiest person to talk to. in fact, he's sort-of an asshole (another fact the good kissing blinded me to for a while). he throws chairs. he punches walls. he screams. still, despite all that--and mostly because i'm a stupid girl--i kind of thought i would change my mind about him. all relationships have upswings and downswings. i was waiting for things to swing back up, i guess--to be like they were in the beginning. with the good kissing. not so much with the puking. but, the longer i wait, the more i notice how he hates to talk about anything except himself. i notice that he is NEVER happy about anything. at all. i get more and more irritated that after all this time, he can't seem to take into account that i don't like country music, DMX, or sloppy joes.
i do have some amount of sense, so the more i thing about it, the clearer it becomes. boyfriend 3 and i are doomed. but it's still not so simple. i still don't know how to hurt someone. i guess there are some things you just never get good at.

though it can be tricky telling sometimes, it is usually far worse to say nothing and wish you had, then it is to say something and wish you hadn't.

i just came up with that theory last night, while i was crying in the bathtub. i sat in the water for so long it turned cold. i've always been a big fan of baths--maybe because i like the way i look naked better in water than out. no gravity, you know. in this particular bath i realized that hiding your feelings from someone can quickly turn into the worst kind of lie. which makes me the worst kind of liar. the longer i sat there, the sicker i felt. the water shooting through the jets seemed to be berating me, rather than soothing me. it hurt. i had been afraid of losing the tranquility, and now boyfriend 3 would be just as much a victim of my weakness and i was a victim of his poor anger management skills.
despite all his bad qualities, i am quite sure that boyfriend 3 loves me as much as his unhappy little heart will allow him to love anyone. last night, he was playing sega dreamcast with his friends on the other side of town. one of his friends commented that he was jealous because boyfriend 3 and i seemed to have such a perfect relationship. boyfriend 3 told me he thought to himself how lucky he was to be part of a perfect love, and all the while i was sitting in my bathtub thinking that i don't really love him at all.
i'm not even sure if i ever did. not that i wasn't fooled. the falling gets you every time. everytime. it's the landing that ruins it for most of us. you stand up, brush yourself off, and usually run off in different directions, looking to fall again.
i went to sleep last night knowing that i would have to come clean very soon. it's funny that i was just thinking about my dad being right about that 'what goes around comes around' thing. my relationship with boyfriend 3 really does mirror my relationship with boyfriend 2. despite the #2, boyfriend 2 was my first love, and he broke my heart--about 233 times. i am boyfriend 3's first love, and i will probably break his heart.
i can feel it coming back around.
you have to lose your first love, or it wouldn't be called that. it would be called your only love. so, assuming that you're like most of us, you're going to need a couple of tries to get it right. as stated in theory #2, it will take time. but if you reach the point where you can talk about your first love fondly, instead of through clenched teeth while gripping some kind of large weapon, then you're doing alright.

every time i catch myself performing some kind of ritual with some person who has somehow become a part of my life, i start wondering about how all that occurs. on really hot days, boyfriend 3 and i would lie in bed all day, and take turns going to get popsicles out of the freezer. he's always let me have the red one; thank god for small happinesses. we would lay there, sticky with each others popsicle juice, and lust, and august sweat, and i would wonder how it is that in all the world, two people manage to find each other and create a ritual of eating popsicles in bed on hot days.
lying in bed, alone, seven months older i have to wonder how something that once made me so completely happy could now be the last thing on earth that i would want to do. if two people do manage to find one another, and become enchanted with one another--how do they stay that way? when is it ok to settle for something less than what you had dreamed your life would be? when should you compromise? when shouldn't you? how do you know when you've found the right person? when is the fall worth the pain that usually come with it?

no more theories, just random thoughts for you now.
i once heard a wise man say 'my rewards were in the journey.'
i don't remember who he was, or even if those were his exact words. but it seems to me that he was right.
if you're very lucky, and a little bit wise, you will earn a lot in life and have a lot of opportunities to use what you've learned. but mostly you will learn the really valuable things by fucking up a bit.
there is no scoreboard for love. it would be really cool if we could all walk around with little cards--like nutritional guides--on our foreheads that clearly stated what we were capable of giving and receiving at a particular time, so you could know in advance. but that just is not the case. you can not look at it as a race to know everything you can about how love works, because if you do, you will surely end up falling in love with someone who knows nothing and being completely miserable anyway.
you don't get to save up a bunch of tickets and then turn them in for a prize at the end, like in skiball.
the rewards are in the journey.
the rewards are every single person you meet, and finding out every little reason why they should or should not be your friend or lover. the rewards are hot days and red popsicles with someone who might have been the right one for you. if you're lucky, one day you'll have the reward of knowing that someone is.

a few more thoughts:
you should compromise when you love what you'll get more than what you'll lose. if you feel real love, even if it's just for one minute, than it's always ok to accept less than what you dreamed for your life. it would be pointless to do anything else, since love adheres to absolutely no rules, and seldom do we get to choose who we fall in love with. you know you've found the right person when you stop worrying about finding the right person, and it is ALWAYS worth the pain that comes with falling.

i love you, little sis. keep your head up. we've all cried ourselves to sleep before.
the sun will still be shining tomorrow, you just have to let yourself enjoy it.
march 25, 2000
3:23 am, and i'm so going to sleep now.


so, that's that.
i know some of you more observant readers are saying--wait! she still just told a story!
and, yeah. that's somewhat true.
the parts (you know, the parts that make up almost the whole piece) where i reference my relationships are all real.
but! my sister was not undergoing trauma of any sort! i totally made that up so i would have a way to tell my own stories! i am so creative!

but, whatever.

the point is, i totally got the guy.*

**although, to this day, it has never been proven that it had anything to do with that piece... also hasn't been because i've kept him drunk for six years, which one might think from looking at these pictures. at least, not as far as i can tell.

Saturday, October 07, 2006

in which the yankees go down, and als in which i am not sober.

maybe one day i will write something pretty about how amzing it was to be part of the amazingness that was comrica park today.

for now, i will only say this:
suck it, yankees!

damn, that felt good.

today, after returning from new york with a tie series, the tigers SHUT OUT the yankees.
do you hear me?
that means the yankees didn't score a single point.
not by cheating-jason-giambi, sell-out-johnny-damon, one.

i swear, if the tigers franchise never wins another game in the whole of eternity, it will have been worth it to be in comerica park tonight.

it was, to put it simply, electric.

baby girl and i may or may not (we totally did) get into a fight with a yankees fan within two poin two seconds of getting to our seats.
but i'll tell you that story after i deal with the hangovr that i think might be on it's way at the moment.

Friday, October 06, 2006

in which i can't wait for tomorrow

one friday, back in june, i stayed home sick and watched a piston's playoff game by myself. they lost. i was sad.
when the game was over, i watched sportscenter for a while, because i was too tired to reach the remote. which was right next to me.
anyway, i wasn't really paying attention, and then all of the sudden i heard someone say the magical phrase 'next up, the winning-est team in baseball...' and i saw a picture of comerica park appear on the screen.

i thought i had hallucinated.
i mean, i went to opening day this year--in fact, i think i had been to three games by the beginning of june--but, the winning-est team in baseball? the detroit tigers?

it turned out to be true.
it stayed true for most of the summer.

it made going to the games more fun than it has ever been before.

and while we didn't end the regular season as 'the winning-est team in baseball,' we ended the regular season with more games to play.
in the playoffs.
for the first time in 19 years.

everyone was all gloom and doom after we lost game 1 to the yankees on tuesday.
'the yankees have a monster line-up...' blah, blah, blah.

i have an idea--let's ask justin verlander, joel zumaya, and todd jones* about the yankees 'monster line-up.'
because today, in yankee stadium, the 'monster line-up' had nothing on the tigers. zip, zero, zilch, nada, goose-egg, and what-have-you.

we won.
we won!
we beat the yankees in new york. the series is tied. the tigers will be back in detroit tomorrow. and yes, i know it's just a game. i know there are a lot of more important things going on in the world.
but i also know two girls who are pretty fucking excited right now, because
guess who has tickets to the first playoff game that will ever be played in comerica park?

that's right, bitches. we do.

*of course, i think the collective soul of tigers fans everywhere about shit it's pants when todd jones came into face the top of the yankees line-up in a game that we were only winning by one run.
when he let cabrera get to first, with two outs to go, i'm sure there were actually people crying.
when he came up against johnny-the-fucking-sellout-damon, with 2 outs down, i think actually had a stroke. especially thinking about that smug fucker derek jeter on deck.
when he got damon to a full count, i think i died a little.
i think detroit actually stopped breathing.
fickle tigers fans everywhere were cursing todd jones' name.

and then todd jones was all 'eat it, bitches. i'm not scared of no johnny damon.'
and we won.
and no one better ever say anything bad about him ever again, at least not until the next time he fucks up a win for us.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

exactly how uppity am i?


i'm too tired to write a particularly fantastic post.
not that i've EVER written a particularly fantastic post, but you know what i mean.

but, while i'm thinking about it, i think we should discuss whether or not i should move to a new blogging-type-proveider-thinger.

here's the thing:
i know my blog is not that important.

i know my blog never inspires the type of feeling that i had when i read and watched this, the most beautiful, tear-inducing post OF ALL TIME.

i refuse to give up on myself!

every once in a while, i come up with a decent post.
and, there are more than a few posts that would have been better, had blogger been a bit more cooperative.

so, i'm thinking of moving.

if i move, i'll most likely go to type-pad.
but, i know nothing about computers.

i'm not afraid to spend (a little bit of) money...
so does anyone have any ideas?

i would like to go to a place where i can have my own domain name.
of course, this also poses a problem, because '' and 'princess', and '', and the like are already taken.

so, here's what i'm asking of you:
1. should i move at all?
2. if so, where should i go?
3. what should my domain name be?


i love you guys.