Billy Blanks or James Bond?

I have never really understood workout videos. Every time I try to do one I get bored and never do it again. Over the past couple days I think I have finally experienced what most experience with repeated viewings of windsor pilates or tai bo...mine, not surprisingly, could be called unconventional. It all started when I bought hand weights that wrap around your hand...then Erin started watching Casino Royale, which I am unapologetically obsessed with. AND THEN I started mimicking the fight scenes like an eight year old boy. An eight year old boy with women's hand weights. I have watched it once a day for the past three days. Of course after I realized I was more than distracting when someone is trying to actually watch the movie I decided it was probably more of a solo situation. Some might call it a sickness, I just call it better than a workout video. And just in case there is any confusion, James Bond could turn Billy Blanks (Tai Bo guy) into a cowering little girl.

Now that's a tantrum I can get behind...

Last night I had agreed to babysit some of the cutest girls in the world....before I knew when KU played. I will admit that I am not the hugest sports fan, but I have a soft spot for KU basketball. Anyway as you can imagine I was disappointed because I knew the last thing 3 little girls wanted to watch was a game...I knew that until I got out of the car and was instantly told
"TIP OFF IS AT 6:05, WE HAVE 1 HOUR TO PLAY!!!!"Not only did they know when tip off was they knew all the players, the littlest one kept calling Mario Chalmers by his full name minus the Rs. I almost peed my pants. Then the game was over and the middle one had fallen asleep, when the oldest woke her up and told her they lost she threw a fit of monumental proportions. There was screaming, tears, and many threats by her to call her mom. Because her mom was going to know how to fix this. She was especially mad when she realized her bracket was screwed. It was like hanging out with friends with the exception of the tantrum and the request the youngest gave me to ask her if she pooped regularly. Best babysitting award for sure.

Proof that I NEED Fashion...

I have been once again forced to evaluate myself. I have been on spring break for the past week, and while hanging out with my sister has been a lot of fun, most of my thought life has been spent wondering why I feel like I am being lazy. Could it be that once you are used to working long hours with little time off a week off seems like an eternity with nothing to do? Possibly, but I really thought I would enjoy having nothing to do a lot more than I have been. If anything it has made me depressed. Of course it could be the fact that the sun has been playing games with my heart, and I am someone who is very affected by weather. OR could it be that I have finally found what I love doing and the absence of it makes me incredibly sad. I would like to his it is the latter of the three. Any way you spin it the week that is supposed to be a bikini clad week spent carrying on has been nothing more than a week spent wandering to what felt like nowhere, still wearing the bikini though. It is spring break after all. I did finally find the sunglasses I have been looking for everywhere. Vintage ray bans. I know you all think I have lost it, but trust me they are coming back.
On a totally different note I am very grateful for all my friends that decided 24 was worthy of a kick in the pants and helped me wave it goodbye. I would give you my flikr link, but my computer has been doing some hard drugs and won't let me access yahoo because apparently yahoo is way worse than the rock it's been doing. Just more proof that drugs are bad.

Pulling muscles...

apparently it is my thing.

a couple of weeks ago I pulled a muscle in my arm while playing air hockey. Of course flinging my body halfway across the table to make a shot didn't help, I won though. (Below is the really cool outfit I was wearing when all the body flinging occured, I know HOT.) This monday I did a lot of working out and my hamstring decided to reject my workout. Whatever.

In other news I found out my dad was the hamburgalar in the St. Patricks day before I was born. He kicked Ronald McDonald. All I could think about when I heard this was why is this the first time I am hearing about this.

Shocker...

2 posts in one day may be a record for me, but I felt like it was necessary. I have loved almost every minute of living I have done at the place I live...that is until the more recent realization that you can in fact hear everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING, going on in all adjacent apartments/basements. It started when the couple moved in upstairs and were hammering at all hours of the night. Then it got cold and they would warm up a bulldozer snow plow thing in the basement. BUT starting it one time isn't enough, they will start it at least 5 times and then rev the engine for 10 minutes AT 5 AM!!! Then came the upstairs neighbors again only this time it isn't G-rated hammering keeping us up, it is extremely loud sex. Erin can attest to the fact that it sounds like they are yelling at my windows. On the one hand I am glad that they are having good sex...on the other do I really need to know that they meow or listen to Genuwine? I would say NO, that would fall under the category of TMI!!!

In Anticipation...

On February 23rd one of the most anticipated movies of 2007 will be released...alright so at least one of the most anticipated movies in my book.

I don't think this is in the movie, but the first time I saw it I cried.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQlwKFleVxQ

Hot Stuff

When people browse through the music on my computer there are many pitstops, usually accompanied by the person giving me attitude and asking "seriously, why do you have this?" Last night was no different, except that it pushed me over the edge into writing a blog about my least known crush. Kenny Rogers. When I was a child I was obsessed with him. Probably in the same way most girls liked Joey McIntyre, or I don't know...Blossom.?. I had a poster book of him. When I say poster book I am not exaggerating. It was quite large. To me Kenny symbolized all about America that was great. Perfectly coifed hair, Men in satin shirts, and skin that glowed like kryptonite exploded into his pores. Kenny was what kept the idyllic days of my youth from creeping into a world where having crushes on men 5 times my age was "weird" and "inappropriate." The crush may have ended, but Islands in a Stream that is what we are will be forever inscribed on my heart.

Hello sap alert. I feel like I am going to yak.

Strategery

When you can't figure technology out and you have to call a service person here is quite possibly the best strategy the planet Earth has ever heard. EVER.

Tommy: Just tell them you live on the plaza and this shouldn't happen to you.
Erin: (laughter)
Me: Just tell them you live on a cloud and crap rainbows so your flipping remote should work.

WOOOHOOO it's almost 2007!!!

To be honest 2006 is a year that I am glad to say goodbye to. But that does not in any way allow me to leave the year without my obligitory #'s rampage....

Favorite albums:
Keane Under the Iron Sea
The Fray ...which now seems so overplayed I really don't like it that much anyore.
Elton Johns greatest hits...don't knock it til you've tried it.
Rilo Kiley...pick anything I am obsessed.
Panic at the Disco

# of jobs: 4...I may need to work on that. I seem to always have a lot of jobs.

# of dates: I have no clue. I lost track. Trust that I most certainly have stories that make you question the type of men I attract...

# of children that told me they were probably going to cry during a certain part of full house: 3

# of weddings: 5

# of times I wished I didn't love diet coke due to the allergic reactions that it now causes: about 1 billion

# of crushes: 1...isn't that sad

# of That's so Raven episodes I had to endure: probably around 30...should be considered as a form of punishment for criminals....Mr. Smith you are being charged with assault and battery. You get a choice between 2 years in prision or 100 viewings of that's so Raven.

# of times I have been signed up for eharmony...by someone else: 1

# of accidents/ tickets: 1 yet again...

Favorite things of 2006:

24, twentyfour, kiefer
McAlisters sweet tea
Felicity...I know I know I am about 5 years late on that one
flat shoes...praise the Lord
riding boots...for all that horse riding I plan on doing
living on the plaza...LOVE IT!!!
leapord print

Not for the squeamish...

Most days at work are fun and fairly uneventful. Yesterday was not. I don't know if it was just because it was unbearably cold outside or if someone unloaded a truck full of rude laced with bitterness right outside our door. Everyone that came in acted as if we were responsible for not only the weather but also EVERY BAD THING THAT HAD EVER HAPPENED TO THEM. I turned a corner to put some jeans away and was met by a stare that could freeze alcohol. I politely asked if there was anything I could help her with. I was interrupted with the following

" I want some black pants that don't show my pubic hair."

Nevermind the fact saying the words pubic hair in the first sentence after meeting someone is weird, since when has the Gap been known for their crotchless pants? She also thought it was appropriate to completely bash teenagers, Christmas, and inform me that when I am in my late 50's I would understand. Okay, but until then I am going to try and stay off of the bitter train.

Existentialism...or maybe not

I am not going to try and apologize for not posting, mainly because I am not sorry. Let's talk about life for a second. Not in an existentialist sort of way. Don't worry I would never do that to you. I am going to talk about it in a "Holy crap, I am so busy I am lucky if I get to eat" way. I currently have 3 part time jobs, well 4 kind of. Let me tell you I will never go back to an 8-5 cube job again, ever. Even if it means I have to live in a cardboard box and eat ramen. I love being able to go out in the middle of the afternoon, getting to use my mad cooking skills, and getting a great discount at the GAP. That being said the cube job did allow me to post a lot more, partly out of boredom, partly out the convenience of having a computer right there. So to those of you who still check here, sorry I am not sorry for not getting to post often. I do miss getting to strech the creative writing muscle, but I love my life right now, so it is worth it. Oh yeah and if you want a GAP friends and family coupon let me know. I think it is the 30th of November through the 1st of December.

Seriously?!

So remember that time I wrote a post about how I was going to start posting more, and then I didn't....that was awesome.

Nothing amazingly funny has really happened...that was until last night. It has become a tradition for a group of us to meet up at 75th street brewery on Wednesday nights, primarily for the 75 cent beer they start serving at 10. This has been a fun and fairly uneventful occasion, that is until last night. I don't know who had the brain child of setting gourds all over a bar, but someone did. It started with gourds being thrown at us and ended with us badgering a drunk cowboy and a man who had eyes that looked like they had been dipped in peroxide and stuck back in their sockets (they were bloodshot) for a cd they had taken. The middle went something like
"Hey, who wants to go see if they will put this cd (Katie's cd) on"-drunk cowboy
"I am not going to. I think it might piss off the guy singing and playing the guitar"-katie
"I am going"-drunk cowboy
"So do you have bad allergies?"-me
(loud laughter)
"Oh are my eyes red?"- man who said like more than a 13 year old at a Nick Lachey concert
"Really red they look like they hurt....I really wasn't trying to be rude." - me
"Hey Tiff when do you think you will start blogging again?" - Graham
"Tomorrow." - me
My favorite part was when bloodshot man told me he wasn't drunk. Oh yeah and when they tried to tell me that if a guy gives you his hat in Texas it means you are going home with him, no matter how many other girls he talks to that night. How flattering! You mean you give me your hat, go make out with 15 other girls, but I still get the undue privilege of going home with you? What kind of mental degenerate came up with that? I can't say for sure but I think alcohol may have been involved.

Dearest blog,

I am really sorry for letting you go. If you were human you would be 20 pounds heavier, in mismatched socks, and sporting a haircut that screams “when I was a child I ate kitty litter." Luckily, you aren't human, but you are in need of some new material. Honestly, I have kind of been a hermit for the past month. So unless endless diatribes about my cooking endeavors or my favorite sweatpants thrill you, you would have felt dull and lifeless. With the exception of my grandma talking about her "gay" male friend in a high pitched singing voice (I say "gay" in quotes because for whatever reason she thought she needed to put it in air quotes) I have had few funny stories to tell. I am slowly integrating myself back into the social scene, so the promise of new enchantingly funny posts loom in the not to distant future. Get excited.

Your not so faithful writer,

Madonna (I think I should use a pen name, and I think Madonna is appropriate)

Suppression

I was talking to my roommate a couple of days ago and something in my mind brought me back to a time in my life that I completely forgot about, or blocked out, I am not sure which at this point. Long ago when I was a mere freshman at K-State I was in need of some extra cash. Up to that point I had held quite a few jobs. Pie shop, Olive Garden, Worked for my dad, The Buckle, but none quite compared to the only job I have ever had that required me to don formal wear and give up my weekend nights to go to places like Great Bend. I was an auction girl for Turkey Banquet’s all over Kansas. (Turkey Banquet-a place where the anti-Tiffanys [hunters] go to see all the other anti-Tiffanys, get drunk, and bid outrageous amounts of money on ridiculous looking wildlife “art”…oh yeah and buy raffle tickets for items like a lawn chair that sits in a tree.) My basic duties were carrying all of the auction merchandise up and down a stage. And by merchandise I mean various framed prints of birds flying off into the sunset, really heavy sculptures of dogs with dead ducks in their mouths, and bottles of Wild Turkey. I also was responsible for selling raffle tickets to the sea of camouflage. At the height of my auction girl fame I was asked to use a turkey caller on stage. I gladly did it…because I got paid a ridiculous amount of money to do so. In the end I think many lessons were learned.
1.Stay away from really drunk men and I am sure women for that matter
2.No matter what anyone tells me camouflage is not in anyway sexy
3.a bronzed moose will never go anywhere near my home, and I would suggest keeping it away from yours
4. Walking in heels up stairs with a 25 pound elk sculpture will never be fun, no matter how much fake smiling you do.
5. I don't care a about hunting...shocker

Don't tell me God doesn't have a sense of humor...

This morning I woke up and said to myself “I think today is going to be a good day.” The month of Job (the book in the bible, not work) reenactments are over, no more August until next year. Thinking that with any luck I may actually make it through a 24 hour period without any major dramatic episodes I got my butt out of bed and went to Starbucks to celebrate what I hope to be a far better month. Freaking Pumpkin Spice Lattes are back. I could not contain my excitement; I will be at Starbucks a lot for the next 3 months. I got to work and started the day well, and then I got a call from the doctor. After a lab test that ended in my passed out body being carried to the bed in the back of the office, I expected nothing short of stellar results…I got this message “Tiffany, your levels seem good, but we need you to come back in and get jugs for you to urinate in for 24 hours.” You have got to be kidding me. You want ME to pee in a jug, every time I pee, for an entire day. Maybe they aren’t familiar with the fact that my bladder is the size of a small child’s. Maybe they don’t realize I am really clumsy and I don’t need to go into detail about the many ways that could end badly. I went to get the jug and they give me what is basically a potty chair for an adult, and tell me I have to stick my pee jugs in the fridge. I was also given a very large bioharzard bag with two large orange jugs for "when I go." Apparently using the word pee is frowned upon in the medical profession. I feel like it would have been more appropriate for me to leave the hospital in a gas mask and protective suit as opposed my street clothes carrying that kind of monstrosity. Hello September, it seems that you will be welcomed with a full day of me pouring my own pee on myself. You lucky bastard.

I would do anything for love....but I won't do a lot

Saturday I hung out with some college friends. We ate Mexican food, reminisced, and remembered the fact that Lisa and I are the most opposite people on planet Earth. At one point at the beginning of our friendship Lisa and I were discussing our dating preferences and she mentioned that she would love to go irrigating on a date, a notion that I neither understood nor agreed with, but definitely exploited. I just may have called the campus forum (a small portion of the KSU newspaper that printed students meaningless banter…I called about once a day.)later that night and mentioned that my roommate wanted to go irrigating on a date if there were any takers….a comment which I can only imagine made the day of many a male ag student/former western Kansas resident. Maybe it is just me but if there are any tools involved I am not calling it a date, I am calling it manual labor. I think I am instituting a new dealbreaker. Making me do manual labor and trying to pass it off as a date definitely qualifies. Coffee. Coffee is what I like on a date. Simple, and there’s no chance of finding myself waist deep in mud with a shovel. Although I am fairly sure if Lisa got asked to go to coffee and a got picked up on a motorcycle she would have to be scraped off the ground because laughter would undoubtedly overtake her body. And that is before she knows about the tattoos and brief prison stint. But we are good reminders for each other. She reminds me that not everything is as fun as dating men who are bound to leave me in therapy, and I remind her that sanity is something to be valued.

Just a quick convo to laugh at:
“Oh look it is a mariachi band!”

“Hmmm…”

“Oh that’s the Haricrishnas”

Apparently Curtness Runs in the family

"You dating anyone tiff?” (uncle larry)
“No…if I was you’d probably know about it.” (me)
“Well I’ve got someone I think you may like.”
“Alright. Tell me about him.”
“He’s a youth pastor.”
“Okay. Anything else.”
“He’s an excellent bow hunter.”
(Lots of Laughing) “Not a chance.”
“Your standards are too high. You’re never going to meet anyone.”
“If being with a guy who wants to go shoot animals all the time is my alternative to being single, I will pick single. He'll want me to eat deer meat, and that's so not going to happen.”
Grandma from the other side of the room “I think you should become a nun. I was watching a show yesterday. You know what they do. Get up. Pray. Eat. Take a nap. Pray. Do a little work. Pray. Eat. And then they go back to bed. I’d do that if I did it all over again.”
“you wouldn’t have any of us though.”
“Yep.”

Investigators searching for missing remains of REALITY!

I am very thankful that I have a lot of friends who are entering the medical field on one level or another. Here is my reasoning. I had an allergic reaction while on vacation in LA. Why do I tell you this? Because it has been quite the ordeal. I went home on Friday and my parents told me I had to see a doctor (something I really hate doing) because my face looked like it had been beaten with a bat and it was their greatest fear that they were going to loose their already abnormally large headed child to the dark side of elephantitis.
I went to the doctor. I had a bitchin case of hives. Where they came from still remains a mystery.
None of this was the amusing part. The best part of it all was calling a dermatologist and hearing what they suggested I do to help alleviate the symptoms. 1.Avoid sweating…apparently they had relocated their offices to the dark side of the moon where all the black lights and felt led zeppelin posters clouded their judgment and made them forget that IT IS 100 DEGREES OUTSIDE!!! I would like instruction on how one would avoid sweating in that kind of weather 2. Avoid the sun…Again this is going to have to come with Cliff’s Notes. This is Kansas. It is summer. Unless there is a panic room someone plans on locking me in the sun is probably going to come in some form of contact with me.3. Stop eating foods you could be allergic to…Right because normally I would say “Hey a tomato. I am allergic to you but right now I want you, so I don’t care that my throat could close up and cause asphyxiation. Yum.” I think I do that already but thanks for that nugget of wisdom. All in all I would say they barely came shy of telling me to avoid breathing and human interaction that requires face to face contact. While I am at it I should probably avoid sitting, standing, walking, and sleeping it might aggravate the hives. This is why I am glad I have friends who will one day be doctors. They aren’t going to tell me to avoid the sun or sweating in the middle of summer. One, they will know that is nearly impossible.Two, and more importantly, they would have every expectation that those suggestions would be met with my flailing arms of judgment and mockery hurling their ugly fists in their direction. I am such a good friend.

**UPDATE**Today a doctor told me to eat sour candy to help my swollen glands...it freaking worked. Apparently not all crazy advice is that crazy.

The Art of Persuasion

Sometimes in life we are given glimpses at why we are at the places we are. I just returned from LA where I was helping with art direction on a couple of short films. One of the shoots involved a child actor who among his many small annoyances was pissed at Daniel Craig because he thought he would have been a much more suitable choice for the new James Bond....despite his 6 year old appearance and stature. After a long day of shooting in an un-air-conditioned house (which I will say was warm, but compared to Kansas it was really not bad at all) the kid decides to unzip his pants and announce "I think I have heat rash!" as he began to check for it. (He in no way had a heat rash.) This was after he described a scene in James Bond where Halle Berry is wearing a bikini and is very cold, and repeatedly attempted to punch every male there in the groin. It was at these moments I realized someday it is likely I will have kids of my own. Eventually those kids will get to be a hormonal 13 or 14 and telling them sex needs to wait for marriage will sound similar to telling them that once upon a time mommy was a super hero that fought evil using only a spatula and her wit. Instead of watching their eyes continually roll I will simply state my case and promptly schedule a day of fun with a child actor for my kid because I can tell you with complete confidence that it would be a far better birth control than anything that I could tell them.

Freak Show

I understand heart attacks may be had because I am posting 2 days in a row. Not only that, but today's post greets you head on with thrilling visuals of my family members at their finest hours. So strap yourself in for a gripping nonstop ride where the unexpected becomes normal and the mundane is transformed into a riveting tale comparable to the movie Crossroads.












Last week I returned from a journey home. I was there longer than I have been in a long time. I sold fireworks. Scratch that. I was supposed to sell fireworks. Instead I lifted boxes from semis loaded them into different semis and drove around Topeka re-stockingng tents.




In the midst of that I got to observe my sister eating uncooked ramen and dipping it into the seasoning. This is low. Even for a college kid.







I also got to play with the only animal I have ever truly loved.






Hang out with my cousins who live in LA that I see once a year. No the little one isn't mentally challenged. It was her goal to ruin every picture she was in with her sister. She succeeded.




And wake up to find my dad in this. It is a sweatshirt by the brand South Pole. It is a XXXL. Which is 3 Xs and 1 L to big. My dad bought this shirt a couple of years ago at TJ MAXX and really thought I would like it. Hmmm if it weren't for the fact that 1.My dad isn't a rapper, 2. It is 4 sizes to big, and 3. It is a short sleeved sweatshirt, I would absolutely love it. And No my dad isn't Asian. So funny.


All in all it was an interesting week. I sweat more than I have in a long time. Wore the least amount of make-up I have in a long time. And spent the most uninterrupted time in a truck than I ever have. I did not blow off one firework.