<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337</id><updated>2012-01-20T13:18:05.581-08:00</updated><category term='diet'/><category term='sarcasm'/><category term='allergies'/><category term='social networking'/><category term='cable'/><category term='religion'/><category term='high school'/><category term='Manners'/><category term='judaism'/><category term='puppies'/><category term='crazy'/><category term='spirituality'/><category term='brain rot'/><category term='church of christ'/><category term='unprofessional'/><category term='cars'/><category term='hoarders'/><title type='text'>Life-The great unknown</title><subtitle type='html'>I started this blog almost 3 years ago and kinda haven't updated it in almost 2 years.  I'm 30 now, and I have decided this is my year of change.  Blog readers out there, hold me accountable to the things I say I'm going to do.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-7190847597054073135</id><published>2010-06-28T19:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T19:08:32.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>refreshing</title><content type='html'>A little unknown fact:&lt;br /&gt;I love to break bones.  I do it for fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'm just kidding.  As much as I've done it in my life though, you'd think that I do actually do it for fun. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long story short, I fell at cheekwood and broke my ankle.&lt;br /&gt;I kept a positive attitude all weekend and reassured everyone that it was just a severe sprain.  I even joked about it, and still am.  Afterall, I am a total clutz.  It's ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did go to the dr this morning though since I still couldn't walk or move my foot much.  The verdict was a broken ankle.  I kept my composure until the doctor said she was sending me to an orthopedic surgeon to make sure I don't need surgery.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried a little, but not as much as I did in front of strangers and Herbie's parents at cheekwood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep me in your thoughts and wish me luck.  Going to the surgeon tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One pro though is that my deductible will be met.  Sweeeeeet.  Can insurance cover lipo?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-7190847597054073135?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/7190847597054073135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/06/refreshing.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/7190847597054073135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/7190847597054073135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/06/refreshing.html' title='refreshing'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-7766727537242844823</id><published>2010-06-15T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T18:37:17.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>long time...</title><content type='html'>Looking at the last post, I was on a hot yoga kick.  I still like it, but the month unlimited membership ran out, and I just don't feel like driving to Rivergate a few times a week to do it.  PLUS it's 100 degrees outside right now, why would I want to go do exercise in a room just as hot?  I also joined a gym in the building I work at and I am working out a lot more often now that it's convenient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, not a whole lot has changed.  Since then I've been to DC, lived through a 500 year flood (luckily my house was pretty ok), got 2 rooms in my house painted, replaced the entire roof (due to it not being able to handle all the rain and there being a horrible repair job before I bought this POS house), heard all about my best friend having a baby and hopefully soon meeting said baby, and ummmm oh yeah, I started a blog for my desserts, cake business, whatever we want to call it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can see that over here:  tiffsdesserts.blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should also mention I'm now living in sin, since Herbie has moved in...you know if you want to call it that.  That's another reason why housework got done.  I painted before he could turn that room into a man room.  Somehow my 825 sq foot home is having to fit in all his crap too.  It's a challenge, but we haven't attempted to kill each other yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that's all really.  Until next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-7766727537242844823?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/7766727537242844823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/06/long-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/7766727537242844823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/7766727537242844823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/06/long-time.html' title='long time...'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-6470054590687038162</id><published>2010-03-14T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T18:30:20.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hot yoga</title><content type='html'>Today was my first day of hot yoga.  Warning, if gross sweatyness talk makes you queasy, you might want to skip this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had prepared myself for it.  I wore short shorts and a pretty form fitting shirt.  Brought my mat and towel.  Drank tons of water...you know all the things I was supposed to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had some hard work outs before.  I've sweated a lot when working out before.  This was 10 times more than anything else I've ever done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My whole body was sweating.  My hands, my knees, legs, MY EVERYTHING was soaking wet.  I was so sweaty that it was hard to grip my feet, legs, etc.  In the middle of the workout, my stomach started growling as if I hadn't eaten all day long.  There were a few times I just wanted to lay on my mat in the corpse pose and not move at all.  If it got to be too much, I would just stand there and wipe the sweat off and drink some water.  Did I mention I was sweating a lot?  I was in a room around 100 degrees, with 40% humidity.  By the time it was over and the instructor dropped the cold cloth on you to cool you down, you really felt like that was what you came for.  75 minutes of grueling hot yoga all for a cold cloth soaked in lavendar scented water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what?  It really was awesome.  I bought a whole month unlimited.  Hopefully this is what I need to get the extra weight off and to lower this damn blood pressure and get off the medication!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone wants to join me, you can go for free by printing out the coupon from www.thenashvillefaxline.com and clicking rivergate/madison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place is called The Hot Yoga House and it's close to Rivergate Mall.  When I came in, the instructor knew me right away since she had added me to facebook last night.  I think it's always nice for someone to know your name and not just treat you like another person through the door paying your paycheck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-6470054590687038162?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/6470054590687038162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/03/hot-yoga.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/6470054590687038162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/6470054590687038162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/03/hot-yoga.html' title='hot yoga'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-2388874441522295104</id><published>2010-02-10T17:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T17:37:52.798-08:00</updated><title type='text'>food, food, FOOD!</title><content type='html'>I have always loved to cook!  I've always been pretty good at it, but I haven't always shared my food with people.  Not that I'm greedy, I think it's just that I've always eaten it all or my family has inhaled it and well, now I have Herbie around as my taste tester.  That's ok, I love to feed people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, what am I getting at?  I think I have finally found my passion.  I've been wanting to go back to school for a while and it's just never worked for me.  I can't pass the GRE, and I don't want to go back and just get a standard 2nd undergrad degree (boring!  yaaaaaaawn).  I already have the skills that it takes to make amazing food.  I'm going to start taking classes to improve some things like cake decorating.  Maybe some other culinary classes?  (totally not saying that getting that masters is out of the question, it just is for now!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the "Dream Works" program going on at work, we are trying to fulfill our dreams.  I think having a bakery/deli is going to be my #1 dream.  I'm aiming for the next 2-3 years to have something going for me, and it looks like I've got a lot of fans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So question, if I started a food blog where I shared pictures of my food, and MAYBE some recipes, do you think people would be interested?  Maybe I could start selling some stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my friends, do you have any special occassions coming up?  Birthdays, anniversaries, baby showers (ahem!!! Laura) that  you'd like for me to make something for?  Like you know, for free or very low cost.  You just let me know!  I'm trying to get people outside of work and family to like my stuff so I can have some customers one day!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-2388874441522295104?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/2388874441522295104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/02/food-food-food.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/2388874441522295104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/2388874441522295104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/02/food-food-food.html' title='food, food, FOOD!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-4553969685280043621</id><published>2010-02-07T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T08:05:59.967-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a sucker</title><content type='html'>So, on Friday, I came across &lt;a href="http://www.tennessean.com/article/20100205/NEWS01/100205046/Dogs-can-sleep-easier-at-Metro-shelter"&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt; and felt so bad about the basset hounds that were surrendered.  I mean I almost cried.  I couldn't imagine losing my job and having to turn over my animals because i couldn't afford them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, so I started thinking about it, and I knew I still needed a dog.  I went to the humane society earlier in the week and played with Chihuahuas and almost left with one.  I'm not a purse puppy kind of girl, but they were cute, but what dog wasn't?  I was just needing another dog so bad that I couldn't turn my back on any dog I saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I decided to go to metro animal control yesterday to see if the bassets were still there.  Khloe and Flora Belle were still there.  I took Khloe out into a playroom and visited with her a while.  I sent her back...... thought about it more, and then took her out again.  I brought Lex in to meet her and they got along great.  I left... talked to Herbie about it.  Went to the grocery store and while I was out, I went back and adopted her!  Yeah, I make decisions fast.  Isn't there a joke somewhere about someone that goes to the store and comes back with a dog?  That's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, she comes home with me next weekend after she's fully vetted.  I can't wait to bring her home! I always wanted a dog that looked like a pound  puppy (please tell me you remember pound puppies!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oFiauIQQiIs/S27jxGlIskI/AAAAAAAAABQ/AewwnH84z5M/s1600-h/IMG_0073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oFiauIQQiIs/S27jxGlIskI/AAAAAAAAABQ/AewwnH84z5M/s200/IMG_0073.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435532233002234434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-4553969685280043621?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/4553969685280043621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-sucker.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/4553969685280043621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/4553969685280043621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-sucker.html' title='I&apos;m a sucker'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oFiauIQQiIs/S27jxGlIskI/AAAAAAAAABQ/AewwnH84z5M/s72-c/IMG_0073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-3552113441999915110</id><published>2010-02-04T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T16:14:00.804-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Puppy News</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I was REALLY bummed out about the puppy in my last post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still sad about him, but I have really good news!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After contacting some people with All American Dachshund rescue, a lady from Coast to Coast dachshund rescue in Memphis came to Nashville and picked him up when she was here to get her sister from the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't make it easy to do.  On the way to meet the woman, he curled up on my lap, went to sleep, and started doing his cute little snoring thing he did.  I was promised to be kept in the loop on how he's doing.  He has a foster mom waiting for him in New Jersey after he gets better.  I just hope some slimely guido doesn't adopt the poor thing...j/k kinda.  All I care about is that he's happy and healthy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-3552113441999915110?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3552113441999915110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/02/good-puppy-news.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/3552113441999915110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/3552113441999915110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/02/good-puppy-news.html' title='Good Puppy News'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-8035335363309761094</id><published>2010-01-25T19:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T20:01:25.111-08:00</updated><title type='text'>fmylife</title><content type='html'>So I'll totally spare you the story about how mad I am at the person that I got Linus from.  Saying he had a couple bad teeth and liked to spray his mark just once in your house is a farrrr cry from the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first few days, I hadn't really noticed things about the dog like if he was going pooh ok.  I mean that's gross and ehhh I figured I'd know it if things weren't ok.  Well, I knew it fo' show very quickly.  I came home to a HUGE mess in his kennel.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought, ok, he's fine.  Just some nerves.  He keeps marking furniture posts because he hasn't been fixed (which I do think has a lot to do with it but still...).  I just thought it was normal being in a new place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I took him to get checked out on Friday because the problem hadn't gone away.  I was told that he needs anywhere fromm 4-6 teeth pulled asap, he had a horrible infection in his mouth, and had some kind of respiratory thing.  They knew all that before the labs they did on him.  Those labs came back today showing that he's positive for heartworm, ring worm, hook worm, low protein levels, and something about his calcium that's bad and causing crystals in his pee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can deal with all of that just fine except the heartworm.  We are talking tons of money to rid him of the heartworms.  Plus it would be like putting the poor little thing through chemo.  I can't put him through all that. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I contacted a few rescues and I'm really hoping someone can take him and help him or recommend someone for me to take him to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've wanted a dog for so long, and when I get one, this is what I get.  I'm sad and so angry.  The woman spent money on grooming him but didn't bother taking him to get a simple $25 heartworm test?!  Oh, and I email her today to tell her what happened and she pretty much said that she was sorry and thinks I should put him down asap so he won't suffer.  I agree there...... but really?  grrr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cringe at the thought of how long the poor guy has been suffering. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-8035335363309761094?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/8035335363309761094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/01/fmylife.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/8035335363309761094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/8035335363309761094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/01/fmylife.html' title='fmylife'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-7730452489278168906</id><published>2010-01-18T11:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T18:01:30.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>senility</title><content type='html'>After Christmas my grandma asked when we were going to visit Herbie's parents.  You know, because the holidays are sooo important to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her we had plans for NYE in Atlanta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this long awkward pause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She says, "Now his parents don't believe in celebrating Christmas do they?  They have their own day to celebrate.... or wait, is it Catholics or Jews that have Chanukah?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Grandmother...no, they don't celebrate Christmas and yes it is the JEWS that celebrate Chanukah.  That's what his parents do...but it's 8 days and not a big deal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her response:  "That's so weird..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait until we have a big fat Jewish wedding.  Maybe I need to make a documentary about it.  My family, not only my grandma, will shit when we drink wine at the alter and dance to a real live band at the reception.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait for that day and I also can't wait until I'm old and senile and can call people "weird" for their religious customs and think it's totally ok!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-7730452489278168906?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/7730452489278168906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/01/senility.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/7730452489278168906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/7730452489278168906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/01/senility.html' title='senility'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-8446617789414313855</id><published>2010-01-14T07:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T19:42:31.817-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppy Power!</title><content type='html'>Guess who got a dog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll give you a guess.  It's someone that's been wanting one for a while.  That would be ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oFiauIQQiIs/S089auynCKI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZPyquTu3_yk/s1600-h/linus2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 163px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oFiauIQQiIs/S089auynCKI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZPyquTu3_yk/s200/linus2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426623605450934434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been talking about it for over a year.  I had searched and looked at dogs for a while.  I just happened to come across an ad on Craigslist for a wire haired dachshund, just like Lex, and I immediately sent it to Herbie.  He called and then the woman called us back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I wasn't too excited.  I figured something would happen and it wouldn't work out.  I was not going to get my hopes up.  We pulled into the lady's driveway and he's outside playing with her other dog.  He comes running up to us and I melted.  He's was so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He met Lex and they got along, so that was great.  The woman didn't charge a rehoming fee because she saw we were nice people that would take care of him.  Plus he does have some issues I will have to take care of soon, such as some dental work and getting his little balls chopped off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the whole way home we talked about what we were gonna name him.  Oliver?  Oscar (meyer weiner)? Rufus?  Morti? Nate or Heeb (for hebrew national)?  I couldn't decide because I had to play with him a little while before I could name him.  It had to be a name that fit his personality.  I was not going to keep the name PeterPan that she had given him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came into the house and he did nothing but follow me or Lex around constantly.  That's when I knew Linus would be the perfect name!  I second guessed it and thought I'd name him Jude, but Herbie wanted to spell it Jewd, so Linus it is!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-8446617789414313855?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/8446617789414313855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/01/puppy-power.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/8446617789414313855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/8446617789414313855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2010/01/puppy-power.html' title='Puppy Power!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oFiauIQQiIs/S089auynCKI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZPyquTu3_yk/s72-c/linus2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-3885053099610260800</id><published>2009-11-30T19:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T19:41:31.111-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hoarders'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brain rot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cable'/><title type='text'>choices</title><content type='html'>Tonight as I work at the arena, I am given so many choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I watch...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tough Love on VHI followed by Celebrity Rehab&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intervention and Hoarders??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer:&lt;br /&gt;Intervention and Hoarders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think tonight was the premier episode of Hoarders.  I love watching train wrecks and car crashes.  This was all that plus some.  This woman was such a hoarder that they found two, yes TWO dead cats under trash and junk in her house.  The house smelled so bad anyways that she never even noticed the added stench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh A &amp; E, how I love you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comcast how I hate you for being way too expensive for me to even consider putting cable in my house.  Maybe that's a good thing though because my brain would totally rot if I had this crap to watch at my disposal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-3885053099610260800?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3885053099610260800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/11/choices.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/3885053099610260800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/3885053099610260800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/11/choices.html' title='choices'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-4794045444267316532</id><published>2009-11-18T19:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T19:43:33.794-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crazy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unprofessional'/><title type='text'>Unprofessionalism</title><content type='html'>Today I met one of the most unprofessional people I've ever come in contact with, in the advertising business, and my friends, that's saying something right there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all starts when I get an IM from one of our front desk ladies telling me some girl I know is up front and would like to see me- Some girl by the name of Icolenay Attisonmay*.  I immediately started filing through my brain to see if I knew a Nicole by that name.  She says she's my friend.  I don't know anyone by that name though, but I give her the benefit of the doubt thinking that maybe it's someone from college that has gotten married.  Our front desk tells me that she says we know the same people and she's from Cumulus media.  So I think, "GREAT, a rep that has made a sudden stop to ambush me with her media package and try to sell me shit I don't want because I totally have time for that!"  Sorry, but I knew it wasn't anyone from my intern days at Cumulus since I was always at remotes in front of grocery stores in Smyrna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreadfully walk up front and have a girl run toward me screaming "Oh my gosh, Tiffany, it's so nice to meet you!"  She drops a name of someone from Cumulus Media here in Nashville and says this person, Ephaniestay Enfroray*, said she knew me and knew I worked at cj.  (as a side note, I have a freakish memory of faces and names.  I'm REALLY good at that.  It's my strong point.)  I tell her I don't know anyone by that name, but she insists that if I saw her, I would totally know her. I nicely just nod my head and continue to listen.  She found a listing on our website for a Media Buyer and has had X amount of years in media experience and wanted to talk to me right then and there about herself and why she should work for the company I work at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She hands me her resume and I politely tell her that our director is out for the day, but I would pass off her resume to her and our director of operations.  She tries to go on and on, but I just kinda smile and tell her it was nice meeting her... and backed away before she tried to hug me, make me more uncomfortable, or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this was a really sad case of someone who has read too many sites about "How to land the job you want" and took the being agressive and go getter tips a little too seriously.  It's great to be agressive.  When I first interviewed with cj, I called all the time to see if they made a decision.  I didn't get the job, but you know what, they remembered me in a GOOD way when that position came open again and gave me a call.  Low and behold, I have that job almost 4 years later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, if you are going to research people within a company and make an awkward attempt to ambush them, maybe you should stalk the right person.  As much as I am flattered that Icolenay Attisonmay* thought I made hiring decisions, I don't, thank god.  She missed the chance of talking to the right person, and due to her comitting a BIG NO NO, she is missing a chance at a job that might have been great for her (but not really because we don't hire psycho stalkers who job hops.  Yes I read her resume.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and she lied about being my friend to get me to become unglued from my desk.  I think that might have been the biggest offense of all.  Don't say you know someone that you don't.  cj doesn't hire liars, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*slight name changes to protect the guilty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-4794045444267316532?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/4794045444267316532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/11/unprofessionalism.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/4794045444267316532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/4794045444267316532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/11/unprofessionalism.html' title='Unprofessionalism'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-4029563371894231681</id><published>2009-11-18T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T19:43:55.200-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Manners'/><title type='text'>tardiness</title><content type='html'>I guess I'm pretty anal about some &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;stupid&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; things.  I can't sleep if a bed has covers that are all messy.  It doesn't have to be made up- the sheets and blankets just can't be all twisted and messy.  I have to close the toilet cover completely before I flush because the thought of any poo or pee particals splashing on anything else in my bathroom grosses me out.  I'm sure there are other things, probably things that Herbie points out all the time, but I can't think of them now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that I feel isn't stupid though?  That's being on time.  I can't tell you how bad I hate being late.  Pet peeve is an understatement.  I hate walking into places where it's really quiet and I have to walk in front of them to get my seat... places like a class room, movie theatre(I want to kill them when they do it!  Just kill youself already), and any kind of church services.  It just annoys me.  I'm sure I annoy Herbie when I say, "Well, we are 5 minutes late...we might as well not go!"  Yes, OCD much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What prompted this post?  I'm working at my lovely part time job tonight and Bruce Springsteen decided to come on stage 1 hour late.  Will he play 1 hour less?  Not quite.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As that brat from Full House would say, "HOW RUDE!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-4029563371894231681?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/4029563371894231681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/11/tardiness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/4029563371894231681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/4029563371894231681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/11/tardiness.html' title='tardiness'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-2246870295622192474</id><published>2009-11-10T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T19:44:23.679-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Manners'/><title type='text'>Just because I don't have a penis...</title><content type='html'>I am so mad right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needed some simple maintenance done to my car.  An oil change, tire rotation/balance, and an alignment.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drop my car off at firestone today and walk back to work.  I get a call soon after telling me that they just see no reason to do a rotation and balance on my car because I need new tires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, sorry, but no.  No I freaking do not.  Yeah, I've got almost 40K miles on them.  I will need new tires within the next 10,000 miles, but not right now.  I've had ONE flat tire since I've had the car.  I'm sorry, but I usually wait until I'm having flats left and right before I get new tires.  It might not be the safest way, but you know, I don't have money just flowing freely from my bank account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell the guy to go on and do the alignment, an oil change and fix the tire with the nail in it.  I'll find someone else to rotate and balance the tires and not get all hoity toity with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise if I had a penis, I would not have got that phone call.  We are not turning a $200 visit (it's so much because I'm getting the lifetime alignment) into a $700 visit.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suck it firestone.  Here is a big F you to mechanics out there that think they can take advantage of women.  Do what is asked and don't dig for more stuff to fix you assholes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-2246870295622192474?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/2246870295622192474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/11/just-because-i-dont-have-penis.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/2246870295622192474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/2246870295622192474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/11/just-because-i-dont-have-penis.html' title='Just because I don&apos;t have a penis...'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-6953497295369995835</id><published>2009-11-02T13:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T19:21:49.957-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sarcasm'/><title type='text'>Paying the price</title><content type='html'>I have kinda been looking forward to my 10 year reunion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, seeing all those folks that I never really talked to much to begin with.  Seeing all those people that I never really liked to begin with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also especially love the fact that they think I'm going to pay $75 for myself and a date or $40 if I go without Herbie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's get something straight.  You think it's okay to send an invite over facebook (for a high school reunion, I'll make the exception and say that's ok...just don't invite me to your freakin' wedding on facebook or we won't be friends anymore on facebook or in real life...ha!) and give me no details about this except for it's at the country club in Gallatin on July 17.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know all the organizers of this BS have memberships there or their parents do and they think it will be just a swell,good time!  How about this!  Let's keep it real and go to Cowboys or Luckys in Gallatin, for free and I can spend that $75 on cheap beer for me and Herbie and be totally TANKED.  But OH!  I forgot... A lot of these people go to those places every weekend and hang out with the same people they did 10 years ago because they never left Gallatin to make friends with anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're going to charge me $75 for this crap and tell me to send a check to a certain classmate, the least you can freaking do is tell me if this is an open bar event and if I'm gonna get a decent meal for this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I'm horrified what might happen if I have enough to drink around these people.  I'm starting to think it would be worth a few hundred to hire a decoy to go in my place and make everyone believe that I am now a stripper that works in Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;/sarcasm over and out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously though.  I wouldn't mind going back.  There are some people I would like to see!  I just think there needs to be a FREE option earlier in the day, like at the public park.  Have everyone get together for a cookout, do a casual visit and all that crap....then those that have $75 to waste can go get tanked at the country club with all of their little friends that they get tanked with every other weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll put $50 of that in the bank and take $25 to treat myself and Herbie to El Reys in Gallatin and have a pitcher of margaritas.... then maybe visit the country club and throw up on everyone since I'm allergic to tequilla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps- after saying all this, I will probably still go and pay the $75...but only if certain other people do too.  (Don't worry, Laura, I'm not counting on you. haha)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-6953497295369995835?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/6953497295369995835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/11/paying-price.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/6953497295369995835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/6953497295369995835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/11/paying-price.html' title='Paying the price'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-3002646406570858968</id><published>2009-10-24T20:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T20:28:35.773-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='allergies'/><title type='text'>Stress, it's just what the doctor ordered</title><content type='html'>So at one time I always thought my blood pressure got high when I went to the doctor.  I mean, I would have OK blood pressure sometimes when I went, but other times it would be high for various reasons.  These reasons could be anything from just feeling like poop to being way pissed about the horrible screaming child in the waiting room who I wanted to beat (Hey, I feel bad too and you don't see me throwing a hissy!)  The last 3-4 times I've been in a doctors office though, those things haven't exactly been factors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't give all the gross sinusy allergy&lt;i&gt;ish&lt;/i&gt; reasons why I went to the doctor the other day, but I was THIS close to walking out of there with a prescription for blood pressure medicine along with all of the other drugs I was given.  I don't know about you, but at the ripe age of 27, I'm not ready to start blood pressure medication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that was somewhat of a wakeup call.  Yes, it was a stressful week with lots of deadlines in the office.  Yes I have felt like poop for about 5 days, which was probably related to some work stress and just general stress that I put myself under.  The fact of the matter is, I gotta take care of myself because as much as anyone else might love me, they can't shed the 50 pounds I need to lose or take deep breaths for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After sleeping pretty much all day on Thursday and Friday, I am feeling much better.  I actually showered today and went into civilization (but it was Antioch, so I don't know how civilized it was.)  It's amazing what going back on allergy medication can do for you...or at least for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-3002646406570858968?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3002646406570858968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/stress-its-just-what-doctor-ordered.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/3002646406570858968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/3002646406570858968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/stress-its-just-what-doctor-ordered.html' title='Stress, it&apos;s just what the doctor ordered'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-8864359993059580296</id><published>2009-10-12T17:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T20:28:51.363-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='puppies'/><title type='text'>Puppies</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think if you've been around me long enough, you know that I really really have been wanting a dog. I talk about it all the time and I look for them on petfinder and craigslist all the time. The right dog just hasn't found me.. or I get hesitant and think about the HUGE responsibility it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to the conclusion though that I'm a much bigger dog person than a cat person, even though i love my dear girls Ruby and Star. Lex, Herbie's dog, is one of the best animals ever. He doesn't get mad at me over stupid things like the cats do. I can scare him and he'll still stay by my side, maybe even closer. He is happier than anything ever when I walk through the door and he doesn't even freak out when he goes for a car ride. There's just something about him that makes me feel loved. The cats love me, but they don't really care as long as they can have a clean litter box, plenty of food and water, and.. am I forgetting anything? Yeah, didn't think so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've narrowed it down to a few different types of dogs I want. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;#1 The Dachshund&lt;a href="http://www.thebestofbreeds.com/catalog/images/categories/DachshundWireHair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 350px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 350px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.thebestofbreeds.com/catalog/images/categories/DachshundWireHair.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;- How can I resist their weiner goodness? Lex is a wired hair dachshund, like the ones in the picture, except cuter. I thought most dachshunds were brats and snippy since a neighbor briefly had one when I was a child. Along comes Herbie and his dog and my opinion totally changed. Most others I have come in contact with more recently have been great and I think they would just be a great little companion. I also think it would be fun to get one and name it Oscar Meyer Weiner, Hebrew National, Ball Park, and Brat-just to name a few. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Yes, this is why I can't have kids. Imagine the names I could come up with. I would make their initials spell bad things, or their names would just be so bad they'd beg for me to give them up for adoption.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;#2- The Papillon- Just look at those freaking butterfly ears. They are so cute it hurts. I am not &lt;a href="http://www.justdogbreeds.com/images/breeds/papillon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 303px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.justdogbreeds.com/images/breeds/papillon.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;a purse puppy kind of person, but if I wanted to carry it around in a purse, I could. You know what else would be great? Name it Mothra. I could see it now.. walking the cutesy little butterfly eared puppy and yelling "Here Mothra!!" and people would be terrified that it would be some huge german shepard or something, but no, instead it's a dainty little papillon. Plus they are very smart dogs, some can be trained to use a litter box, and it would be a reason to push me out the door to walk. But the major thing is that it's pretty, and I like pretty things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a few others, but I haven't researched them as much as the dachshund or papillon.  For now I'll just dream.  I have an appointment with an allergy and asthma specialist on Thursday to get some of my major issues addressed, and I'm kinda sorta scared he's going to lecture me about having animals.  Yes, I'll take freaking allergy shots and do more asthma treatments to keep the cats (at least Star, although after 2.5 years Ruby is coming around and wearing on me) and to keep Lex around when Herbie brings him, but adding another dog to the mix, I might be asking for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What to do...What to do...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-8864359993059580296?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/8864359993059580296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/puppies.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/8864359993059580296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/8864359993059580296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/puppies.html' title='Puppies'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-6805310205653221913</id><published>2009-10-08T17:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T17:49:28.614-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social networking'/><title type='text'>You really aren't friends until you're facebook friends.</title><content type='html'>As a lot of people know, I have a love hate relationship with social networking.  I love the fact that I can find old contacts from high school or elesewhere and catch up with them.  It's a great way to connect and stay in touch.  Let's face it, it's an easy way to keep up with people that you would never want to pick up the phone and talk to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, my list of negative things out numbers the list of positives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People now have this feeling of entitlement.  People think they are important now.  Oh I'm at a predators game and I'm going to update my twitterspacebook about how I'm at the game drinking a $2 beer and everyone is going to hit the like button and comment about how they think that's awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting on my lazy fat ass at home watching a movie and everyone cares about it.  I'm having promiscuous sex with random people and everyone cares.  I'm eating freaking cereal with old milk and everyone cares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I'm so awesome because I have 1207 people who are my friends on the internet, 95% of whom I haven't spoken to or seen in years because they bullied me in high school or made my life hell in one way or another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about everyone else, but I think that life was easier even 5 years ago when everyone around you didn't have access to every single moment of your life and you could pick up the phone and call them.  Now everyone is too busy updating their twitterfacespace status to get attention and the word out to everyone that they are or are not ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have given into texting--yes.  However, do I want to have a FULL conversation with anyone via text?  The answer is no.  If something important is going on in your life or someone important to you, don't let me hear about it through text or your status on a social networking site.  Call me, hell even email me a personal message, if you have good news and bad news.  I want to hear it...... I want to be able to react in a personable way instead of hitting a like button or commenting that I don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 years ago you didn't have all of the convenience that you do now.  Yes, texting and facetwitspacing is convenient, but are you building those lasting friendships that you would have 10 years ago?  Are we coming upon an age where we don't need friends?  Do we just need a lot of "yes" people in our lives to hit a like button?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-6805310205653221913?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/6805310205653221913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-really-arent-friends-until-youre.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/6805310205653221913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/6805310205653221913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-really-arent-friends-until-youre.html' title='You really aren&apos;t friends until you&apos;re facebook friends.'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-1653220026235679870</id><published>2009-10-03T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T09:33:22.485-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='judaism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church of christ'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spirituality'/><title type='text'>From one extreme to the other- this might be long</title><content type='html'>I definitely have some stories about religion. I have witnessed one extreme to the other, and honestly I've participated in some of those extremes. For the most part though, I have stood back and watched the train wreck happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma has always been a hardcore follower of the Church of Christ. My grandfather, I never remember seeing in a church, until he was baptised at the age of about 74. My grandma raised 3 wonderful children, giving them the perfect Church of Christ upbringing. My mother got pregnant at the age of 19. The youngest, Eugene, got into heavy drugs and ran off from home at 18 doing any and everything he possibly could do to get in trouble. Tommy, the oldest, got married pretty young, and from what I understand he did a lot of the same things Eugene did as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that backfired! Luckily for my grandma, my mother birthed me and she had that one last chance! Unfortunately, for her, and fortunately, for me, that didn't quite work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I will say that my mom and her ex husband, when he wasn't on a drinking binge, would take me to church here and there. Even though it was a baptist church, and we all know that the only people going to heaven are the members of Church of Christ, it made my grandma somewhat happy to know I was at least getting some kind of Jebus in my life. I don't remember much about it because I honestly never enjoyed it. I just remember the crazy preacher man standing in front of the church, with his face turning red, and telling us all that we were GOING TO HELL. From what I understand, that tends to be a baptist preacher kind of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were going to this church, there were times that my mom's husband at the time would go totally dr. jekyl mr. hyde on us, and he'd either find another religion to jump to, or he would just sit on the couch and do nothing but drink for a month. He'd eventually stop the drinking when he would develop the beer gut that made him undesirable to the ladies (that's a whole other entry.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite religion that he found was Seventh-Day Adventist. For about a month he was going to informational meetings every week and then started going to the actual services. He tried every way in the world to tell my mother and I that it was the way. It was the only way. I am pretty sure he even tried to make my mom stop wearing makeup and wear more modest clothing. My mother of course didn't give in, and eventually he dropped it (probably because whatever woman was trying to get him into the church probably found out he was married.) So he went back to the baptist church and got his 3rd or 4th baptism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(on a side note I have to throw this in there... Since they got divorced when I was almost 11, he has been jewish, don't know if he actually converted, and he is currently at some kind of baptist church because he called and begged my grandma to have me and my mother call him so he could get forgiveness. Loser.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's fast forward from about the age of 10 to when I was about 23. I had only been to church a handful of times since my mom left Mickey. One time out of the handful of times I went was for my grandfather's baptism, where I was bombarded by my grandma and her church lady friends, because they were, and still are, convinced that I'm going to hell for not being baptised and accepting the jebus into my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that time, I'll admit, I gave it some thought. I mean, I have always felt this need inside me to have some kind of spirtuality. I have needed the comfort, and I thought that if I did let some grown ass man of god dunk me under some water, maybe I would feel some kind of awakening. I still didn't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my grandfather died, I did what a lot of people do after tragedies or major life changing events- I started going to church. I started going to the Church of Christ with my grandma. I went religiously trying to find my place. It felt right for a little while, but then I started noticing things that REALLY bothered me. If I missed a Sunday, I was made to feel guilty. If I missed a few, I was a horrible person and I was abandoning my poor lonely grandma. It also bothered me that my grandma and my great-great aunt, Irene, couldn't go without talking in the middle of the service and pretty much afterwards it was all about the social thing. I'm sorry, if I wanted to be social, I'd go to a bar, which is pretty much where I would go when I'd leave anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I struggled with the realization, but accepted that church and pretty much Christianity was and still isn't for me. It's amazing that you can still have morals, believe in god, and be an all around decent person without going to church and labeling yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little over a year ago, I started dating Herbie, who is Jewish. Yeah, go on and reference that chick on Sex and the City, call me crazy, or whatever else. I became intrigued by the religion. I knew it was an important part of his life, yet he wasn't over the top about it, and he can still be a HORRIBLE person even though he's Jewish (I kid!). He introduced me to some of the traditions (food) slowly and I was all about it (the food). I wanted to learn more about the other things (non food related), and I started going to the synagogue, &lt;a href="http://www.congregationmicah.com/"&gt;Congregation Micah&lt;/a&gt;, with him and really did enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I guess about 5 or 6 months later, I really love it. Nobody makes me feel guilty for missing some services and they are just really nice. I knew when I saw the lesbian couple worshipping there in harmony, it was the place for me. Even though sometimes I feel like I have gentile tatooed on my forhead, nobody makes me feel bad for not knowing the traditions or for feeling a bit out of place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night they had a Sukkot celebration with the services held outside. As Rabbi Laurie invited everyone to follow her out in the grass while singing and dancing, I laughed and told Herbie that there's a special place in hell for the Church of Christ girl who is singing and dancing at a religious gathering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-1653220026235679870?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/1653220026235679870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/from-one-extreme-to-other-this-might-be.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/1653220026235679870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/1653220026235679870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/from-one-extreme-to-other-this-might-be.html' title='From one extreme to the other- this might be long'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013780427312295337.post-1712267365722170877</id><published>2009-10-01T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T19:00:36.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What the hell...</title><content type='html'>Uh oh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the heck have I done?  What am I in for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I really want to do this?  A place for people I know, and the general unknown public to read my thoughts and ramblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize in advance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2013780427312295337-1712267365722170877?l=tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/feeds/1712267365722170877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-hell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/1712267365722170877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2013780427312295337/posts/default/1712267365722170877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tiffywiffywoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-hell.html' title='What the hell...'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15451468008440638552</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
