March 15, 2005

My Turn At The Interview Game

Da rules:

1. Leave me a comment saying "interview me". The first five commenters will be the participants.
2. I will respond by asking you five questions.
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions. (Write your own questions or borrow some.)

Jim asks me:

1) Who's your daddy?
You are of course Big Guy!

2) What cartoon would you go live in for a week? - Sponge Bob Square pants. Because thre's nothing llike a good sponge.

3) If you could create a new tradition, what would it be and why?
It's funny you should ask this because there is a guy here at work that makes it a habit or tradition to shake everyone’s hand here at work helloe and goodbye. At first we gave him a hard time. But the more I thought about it and got used to the idea. I embraced it. I think that it's a very nice tradition. To reach out and shake those peoples hand that are involved in your life. I don't think that there is enough of that camaraderie.

4) What do you do with your spare change? Give it to strippers....No, really my spare change is always always on the bottom of my purse which weighs about 5lbs more than it should. And on the days that I do clean it out I give my kids the change. They love me on those days.

5) What sense has the greatest sensual effect on you? We want details here. If you mean smell, sight, taste or touch? Then it would totally have to be touch. Easy. And not just sex. I'm talking a mans soft breath on the back of my neck with a slight kiss. Fingers slightly touching my inner thigh. A tickle on the bottom of my foot. A tongue sliding down my chest to my navel....what? was that too much info. Oh sorry.

Posted by Tiffani at 02:35 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

March 11, 2005

Rob wants to know what five things in your office you must have in order to function.
Take a look at your desk or workspace. If you’re anything like me then it’s a carefully crafted piece of chaos theory in action.
Everything on there is useful or has purpose but of all the clutter (apologies if you’re one of these uber tidy people for whom a desk is a sacred, set square perfect place) which 5 things can’t you live without?
1. My computer of course or how would I ready your sites. Computers…they're not just for work.
2. My calculator because if anyone wanders in my office I quickly hit alt - tab my accounting pops up and start punching the buttons on my calculator. Like I've been working all along.
3. My space heater because the guy next my office is grossly overweight, sweats like a stuffed pig and keeps the temp down to a bare minimum. So I crank up my heater. Which he always says when he walk in my office that it’s as hot as balls in here. I personally wouldn’t know how hot that is.
4. Since my skin is constantly exposed to the cold and heat I need my lotion sitting right by my computer. No…this isn’t from the weather. It’s from the distinct temperature change from going into one office and then to the next.
5. My accounting folder for when I actually have to work (which means you people are not blogging enough).

Posted by Tiffani at 01:05 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Deseperate Times

When I was around the age of 10 or 11 my mother moved the family to New Mexico where her full blooded brother lived.

Growing up my mom never really knew her brother because he lived with their father who was divorced from their mother. (nothing is easy in my family - not even having full blooded siblings)

Anyway, they had been talking a lot around that time and he had offered us a place to live so they could get to know each other once again. (One thing you must understand is...I really think my mother had nomadic blood pulsating in her body. This women does not know the definition of permanence. Up and moving us half way across the country was nothing to her. It didn't bother her that I left my only friend. That we would missed school or that we had any say on where we lived. She had made up her mind that we were going at that was it.)

With the station wagon loaded and everything we owned and our cat in backseat we were ready to leave our life old life and begin a new. Traveling was both fun and exhausting but it took a long time to get there.

Once we did arrive it was like a whole other world. Dirt, tumble weeds, sage, horny toads and trailers. It seemed as though every one had trailers. Which were really only five household all spread out miles away from each other. The only house that wasn’t a trailer was a house made of tires. This house would later become infamous and would be shown on the Discovery channel. (another story)

All I kept thinking was this was where were going to live... in a trailer? It was so small - I seriously don't know how we survived. We left a six bedroom, two bathroom house in a middle class neighborhood to live in a trailer. We were poor dirt poor (no pun intended).

I met a gal the same age as I was, she lived just down the dirt road. She had two dirt bikes and we would spend hours on end riding them. We would take those things up and down small mountains and in some really wild canyons. That was my only salvation.

We did have a garden, though. My mom took the time to teach me how to grow things in it. Rhubarb, celery, carrots and cabbage. It’s the oddest things that I remember. Our t.v. only had one or two channels that we could actually see without wavy lines. So every waking moment was pretty much spent outside entertaining ourselves. I recall my mom drawing pictures of cartoon characters for the vegetable in the garden. You know, to tells what type of vegetable it was. For Carrots she drew Bugs Bunny. For the Rhubarb she drew a Barbie. Get it? Those are the only two characters I remember. She knew we were all so miserable and she tried so hard to keep us entertained. But it didn't stop there. With our trailer we had some property which included a bunch of horse stalls, chicken coops and a compost. As I said before we were the only pets we could afford were a couple of chicks and a duck for each one of us kids. My little duckie was name Angela for the best friend I left behind. Anyway, to keep us entertained and to stop my mother from going mad she drew on the horse stalls pictures of fake horses. She made signs for each one along with a fake general store, Actually she made a fake town. She made it fun, well, as much as she could. To someone else it was pathetic but to us it was an escape from the disappointment that New Mexico had became.

In that same time frame - I saw my first snow on a mountain very far away. Princess Diana and Prince Charles were married. Someone attempted to molested me and I learned to shoot a gun. I had my 11th birthday there and I experienced death for the first time.

One afternoon the skies had opened up and it rained for what seemed to be forever. When I went to check on the birds, I had noticed that their coop had not been closed and Angela my duck was floating in her little pool. I gathered her up dried her off and kept her warm. But it was too late, she was week from the storm. I remember the very moment she died. She took one final breath, shook a little as if you could feel God take her from my arms and she was gone.

We didn't stay very long in New Mexico. We left after six months. I learned and experienced a lot there. Even though it was hot, dry and miserable - I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.

Posted by Tiffani at 12:42 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

March 02, 2005

What do you think????

My hsubands birthday is coming up and I'm having a hard time getting him something. I know I could get him the stuff guys typically like.

Beer, Boobs, Cars and Sports - Settle down boys I can smell the testosterone ebbing out of your pores.

Being the cool chick I think I am. I've gotten him most of that stuff already. I mean when he was drooling over the 69 Cutlass Download file
for sale. I talked him into buying it. I buy him beer everytime I go to the store (daily). I don't care if he goes to the titty bars. Really. In fact I went with him once. Sports is his passion. He lives, breaths and would eat it if he could - Cleveland sports. He's a die hard. My whole basement is filled with Cleveland stuff. Which is ok because it's done tastefully. Wait did I just say that. Was that an oxymoron? I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out what would be the perfect gift. That's when I saw this. I know it's kindof weird. I just hope he likes it. What do you think? Did I get ripped off?

Posted by Tiffani at 11:23 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack