Thursday, March 29, 2007

in which i was almost sorry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

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

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

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

what.
the.
fuck.

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

anyway, i would like to issue a formal complaint.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i'll be waiting right here for your answer.

most sincerliestly yours, or whatever,
tiffany

Monday, March 26, 2007

p.s. again

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

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

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

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

p.s.

speaking of books...

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



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

so, there you go.
an update of sorts.

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

a letter

dear internet:

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

mainly, it's been these two.

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

love,
tiffany

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

same old ass hat, different day.

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

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



(hee! jen rules at making these things!)

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

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

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



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

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

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

you are so lucky!

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

cast:
[Wik]

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



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

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

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

also starring are:
[Alsø wik]

harriet miers


and karl rove

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

boring so far, yes?

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

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

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

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

still bored?

i'll get to the point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it's infuriating.
****

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

(full transcript available here.)

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

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

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

MR. SNOW: Right.

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

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

the president has no recollection?

hmmm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

!!!DING DING DING DING DING!!!

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

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

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

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

REPORTER: It’s become more famous.

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

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

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

REPORTER: But in the Clinton administration –

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

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

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

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

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

why should they not be held responsible?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

peace out, ya'll.

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

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

what's this? a blog? hmmmm.

so.

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

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

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

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

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

wtf?

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

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

***

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



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

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



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

***

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

here is what i looked like when i got home:



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



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

sigh.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

updatey

so, um...
hi!

how's everyone doing?

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

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

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

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

****

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


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

****

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

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

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

'f,' for fat.

****

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

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

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

****

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

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



that?
is not a girl with body image issues.

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

i'm putting my foot down...

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

no, really.
it's true.

please witness the following progression of my fat-assedness:

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



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



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

when i began to recover, i looked like this:



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

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



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

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

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



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

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



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



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

because i feel the exact same way.

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

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



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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

****

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

on tuesday, it got up to 75.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it's for me.

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

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

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

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

all i ask of you is this:

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

you want one from right this very second?



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

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

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

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

seriously.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

biding time

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

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

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

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

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

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

computer chat silence ensues for about 10 minutes

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

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

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


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

Sunday, March 11, 2007

easy like sunday morning.

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

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

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

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

my stomach: makes a squeaky noise.

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

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

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

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

the giggling begins.

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

bed shakes with laughter.

john: that sucks for you.

more giggles.

john: my boones smell like flowers.

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

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

john: my boones smell like clean butt-hole.

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

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

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


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

Saturday, March 10, 2007

options

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2. nevermind. must shower. more later.

not-so-elderly woman behind a counter

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

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

the phone: riiiiinng, riiiiinng.

me: the (blank) sportsbar.

a guy on the phone: are you a sportsbar?

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

the guy: so you ARE a sportsbar.

(sigh.)

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

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

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

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

(sigh.)

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

****

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

the phone: riiiiinng, riiiiinng.

me: the (blank) sportsbar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

****

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

Friday, March 09, 2007

i'm not dead, yet.

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

so, here you go:

i am not dead.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

the supermarket will be the death of me

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

cashier: i seen you put 4 items in there.

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

because i am an idiot.

****

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

anyway, the point is, i was grocery shopping.

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

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

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

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

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

****

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



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

excerpts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

Monday, March 05, 2007

taking 'ass hat' to a whole new level

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

end of story.

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

****

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

****

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

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

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

sidetracked

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

but...



how can one write, when this movie is on?

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

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

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

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

spill it!

Saturday, March 03, 2007

easy like saturday morning

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



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

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

screw the money; i do it for the stories.

as far as you know.

Friday, March 02, 2007

still tagalicious, after all these years.

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

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

anyway, here it is:

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

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

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

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

please!
help a sister out!

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

so, how about if everyone just plays along?

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

Thursday, March 01, 2007

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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