I would be orange...

If I were to be a Crayola Crayon, I would be Orange. 

Orange is my favorite color…and any variation of it.  And I was extremely excited to know what that color says about my personality.  If orange is your favorite color, you have a great need to be with people, to socialize with them, and be accepted and respected as part of a group. You also have a need for challenges in your life, whether it is physical or social challenges.  CLICK HERE to see what your favorite color says about your personality.  I also love Red and Yellow as they vary into orange, so actually all 3 colors could be used.

To be honest, I am a little bit of the entire palette of colors.  Depends on the day.  My mood.  Sort of like music.  But I would say when I am not Orange, I am probably closer to Indigo/Blue/Dark Purple.  Which also makes sense when you read what that says about me as well.  I love colors.  Absolutely love them and I tend to lean towards the primary colors honestly…

It’s kind of fun to think about what colors say about as us and who we are. 

Here’s a little tune for you to tap your toes to!  Hope you enjoy!

Work is...

Work is…well, the answer for me to the remainder of this question changes, or has changed throughout my life I guess.  I have held several positions in my little lifetime.  I suppose I should say that when answering this question, I am referring to that “thing” that the majority of us “have” to do on a daily basis.  I only know one person who does not “go to work” every day and she is a stay at home mom.  I still think that is work.  But she is fortunate enough to not have to need a paycheck.  Most of us do.

Right now?  Work is paying the debt I owe to society for having and for living my dreams.  It would be nice if that was not the case, but unfortunately it is.  I would love to have my own home.  But I also love the idea that I will be debt free in about a year and a half…like completely.  I am sure I will start over and accumulate more debt as isn’t that the American dream?  I mean you can’t take this shit with you when you go.  I also don’t want to die with a boat load of money either…I am perfectly fine having debt, because it means I have lived…possibly above my means for a period of time, but I wouldn’t change a thing. 

I got a lot of answers to this question.  About what work is…as with all questions I pose, I loved them all.  Very few of us get to say that work is truly what we love to do…and I would say the majority of us are underpaid.  Most of the jobs in this world that people love, for example, social workers, teachers, nursing home, etc. are highly underpaid, but these people also, for the most part, love their jobs. 

I did have a period of my life where I loved what I was doing so much that it never felt like I was going to work.  I was truly blessed for that experience and I fought really hard to get it.  My priorities changed.  Life changed.  I moved.  I moved again.  I will move again. I think as with everything what work is, changes as we get older depending on our circumstances.

I have worked for one person.  I have worked for two people. I have worked for a very large corporation.  I have worked for a Fortune 500 company.  I have worked for a town and its board of directors.  I have worked for myself. I have worked for the 3^rd largest Cruise Company in the world.  They all have their pros and cons.  There is a lot to be sad about being your own boss.  The older I get the more I realize how much I appreciate “not taking work home with me.”  There are a lot of jobs that people do take home with them though.  However, since I am an over thinker, it is healthy for me to have a position that allows me to leave it at the door!

Mostly though, I think work can be summed up as such:

Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don't turn up at all. 

Just be yourself...

If you could be anyone for a day, who would it be and why?  I loved this question.  As usual I got some really good responses.  Melissa, I loved that you wanted to be your son so you could see life through his eyes for the day.  Geri, your husband…Natalie wanted to be a pioneer woman, very interesting!  Some of you wanted to be your pets, which would also be awesome because, well, they have a pretty easy job if you ask me.  And some of you were totally content with yourselves.  Which is totally awesome.

I had a hard time with this question.  A really hard time.  There are so many people I would love to be for just a day.  I would love to be the person who finds the cure for cancer.  I would love to be the person that broke my heart so I could understand why they did it.  I would love to be Brodie (my dog) so I could truly feel unconditional love.  I would love to be the person that tells the couple who has been trying forever to have a baby, that they are finally going to.  I would love to be the Dr. that saved a life.  I would love to be Guy Fieri so I could host Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.

We all, at some point in our lives, wish we were someone else. We all, at some point in our lives, think the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.  Well, as you know, the grass is only greener on the side you water and take care of the most.  So with that being said, it is supposed to be perfectly fine just being ourselves.  I think we are all a work in progress, no?  I don’t know anyone who thinks they are perfect.  And part of the reason that I don’t know people like this is that I cannot stand being around anyone who does think that.  No one is the perfect anything.  One of my favorite quotes…

“We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly”

Absolutely the truth…I am sure I have wanted to be someone else just as much as I have been ok being just myself.  I would love to be the friend that goes to Mexico for vacation.  Or the one who is financially comfortable every single day.  Or the one who is madly in love.  Or the one who has children.  I think it’s perfectly natural to desire to be someone else.  It is probably healthy really.  It gets unhealthy when you make it your life’s work to “keep up with the Jones’.” 

Here are some people I would NEVER want to be; God…the President of the U.S., the parent who has to let go of a child, the child that has to let go of a parent, an abused person or pet, the Dr. who tells someone they have Cancer…this list is probably a lot longer actually!

We are all ok.  We all want to be a better version of ourselves.  Sometimes it is nice to hear that though…that exactly the way we are, we are enough.  The truth is though, at the end of the day, I wish more than anything that I could someday or would someday just be a good mother.  I think that is important.

As in true Tiff fashion, here is the song that this post reminds me of.  I play this song when I am sad.  When I need a pick me up.  When I want to roll the windows down and scream at the top of my lungs...if I had asked someone to write a song about me, I am positive this would be it.  Just be yourself...

Good Mother...

Someday I Will...

Someday I will…Someday I will…Someday I will…Someday I will write a book that thousands of people will read.  I have no idea what it will be about.   But I want to write it.  I would love to write a book titled “Shit My Sister Says…” but we kind of have an agreement that I am not to mention her in writing.  I wrote a Blog once (the whole Blog concept was her idea) that I had to delete (only post I have ever deleted) because I offended her by stating that she wasn’t a very nice Sister when we were little.  For the love.  Siblings are not nice to each other.  This was not exclusive just in our household.  She doesn’t remember any of it so obviously it didn’t happen.  This is bogus, because she doesn’t remember driving to work the other day either, but she was there, at work, so she needs to discard that argument because, well, she doesn’t have a “stump” leg to stand on with that excuse.  Anyway…she did say if this book I wrote about her being such a rotten Sister when were little made me a million dollar best seller, she could find a way to suck up her pride and deal with it.  That’s mighty wide of her.  The problem is she won’t remember telling me that and it could ruin our relationship, so whatever.  I blame the stroke.  It has taken us about 40 years to establish that we have an awesome relationship as long as we do not discuss certain things.  Our parent’s divorce (we are somewhat divided and it’s painful for us both in very different ways,) her marriage (I’ve never been married, so it’s stupid to attempt to dispense advice,) raising her children (I have never raised my own but I am highly opinionated about it, and having never created a child nor raised one, I should probably just shut up about it,) and lastly my lifestyle (not a don’t ask don’t tell situation necessarily, but she thinks I am just confused and will someday wake up.)  If the truth be known we are both equally jealous of one another.  I am because she has a home, a spouse, wonderfully flawed children, etc.  and she is of me because I have the freedom to fly away at a moment’s notice…to me it works.  Our differences.

This post is not about us though.  At all.  Sorry I got carried away.  This post is about my Question of the Day yesterday.  I asked peeps to fill in the blank, Someday I will______________.  And I got some pretty great answers.  Shelly will someday believe in herself.  Heidi (personal favorite) will someday be able to see all her friends get married.  Amy Jo and Karen want to provide shelter for unwanted and discarded animals.  Lois will someday travel outside of Illinois.  Amanda will someday be a mom.  Geri will someday give herself a little credit.  And so on…they were really great answers and I loved reading them all and I love that people are participating and giving me ideas. 

Say what you need to say...

I wish I had said…if you could tell a person one thing, what would it be?  This is the question I posed to my FB friends yesterday.  I thought it was a really good question.  Don’t we all have that one moment where you look back and think, I should have said...?  As usual, I got the answers I expected, nothing terribly surprising or unexpected. 

The majority of us probably wish we could say something to a loved one before they pass.  That is probably the most popular response.  “I wish I had told so and so, I loved them more often.”  And generally when we do lose someone close to us we realize how vulnerable life really is and probably for a little while move on with our lives “planning” to say more to our friends and family since time is so precious.  And then as usual, we get back to “living” and time gets away from us again. 

Fortunately that is not my response to the question.  I am not at a loss for words.  Ever.  If something has rendered me speechless, there is probably a real good reason.  I was speechless last weekend when my friend Dan informed me I had a beaver problem.  My first reaction was, “who told you.”  But it was one of those situations where you had to be there and if you weren’t you missed one of the funniest things any human being has ever said to me.  My point is I usually have a comeback.  I ALWAYS have something to say.  To everyone.  Most of the time, I say too much.  Like I need a shut off valve.  Like the worst thing you can ever do is ask me my opinion of something, especially if it is personal, because I will tell you exactly what I feel.  I personally do not find this to be a problem, but it has been known to piss others off in the past.  Oh well.  Don’t ask me then.

When looking back and answering this question myself, I realized that I could conceivably only come up with one moment in the past 39 trips around the sun, that I can honestly say those words; “I wish I had said,” and you may have to sit down for this…but I am NOT going to tell you what that moment was. That moment was actually too personal.  I have opened myself up to anyone who reads this Blog, but this, this I am keeping to myself.   There are a lot of things that I wish I could have said actually, and I am positive I said as much as I could pull out of myself at the time it happened, but I definitely had one more thing to say.  Why didn’t I say it if I have no problem saying things?  Because I had allowed access to the one thing I had spent so much of my time and energy protecting…my heart.  It was impossible for me to articulate at that moment what I needed to say because what was happening had such a dramatic impact on my heart that I couldn’t speak.  Nothing has ever impacted me that much. 

I guess what is most important is that we should never feel like we should have said something.  Or that we left something unsaid.  Even if it hurts us or someone else.  That is one thing I don’t carry with me on a daily basis…the guilt of wishing I had said something to someone. 

So as John Mayer so eloquently puts it in one of his more popular songs, and interestingly it is the song played at the end of the movie The Bucket List… “Say what you need to say.”

You're Welcome...

I posed a question yesterday that I honestly had never really considered until I read someone else question it.  I asked my FB friends what their first response was to the words “Thank You.”  I guess you never really think about it until someone says it and frankly, as a society we do not thank one another enough. 

I am going to come clean and let you all know I also Twitter.  Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest…my list of social media connections continues to get longer and longer, but whatever.  Every night before I can fall asleep, because I have OCD, I read my Twitter feed and USA Today.  I am not ashamed to admit it is how I stay connected to the outside world.  I am completely addicted to The Huffington Post which is basically an Internet News Paper.  I suppose I secretly (well not so much now that you all know) want to write for this organization someday.  It is a veritable plethora of news, mind blowing actually…too much to take in at one time, so Twitter breaks it down for me and then I can save the articles I want to read before I close my eyes at night.  

ANYWAY, I follow all kinds of important (well to me) people on Twitter, for all kinds of reasons, but one of the people I follow is Bette Midler.  Yes Bette Midler.  Sorry but I fell in love with her after the movie Beaches.  Truly, one of the best movies ever.  And I adored her in The First Wives Club, but anyway…I follow her.  Yesterday she posted this: People: when someone says "Thank you", the proper response is "You're welcome", not "No problem", or worse, "Not a problem". Pls RT global.  I had to laugh, because she was pretty passionate about it.  And because it made me question what my response is to that statement.  Personally?  I think 90% of the time I say, “You bet.” And I got that from my years in Minnesota…just ask a Minnesotan…it’s pretty much the standard response for anything you say to them. 

So really, this blog is twofold.  First, we don’t say Thank You enough as it is and apparently when a person does, it is “proper” to respond with “you’re welcome.”  Well, proper according to Bette Midler anyway, but it for sure causes you to pause and think about your answer.  Well it did me. 

Thank you to all of my peeps that responded I loved your answers!  If you said you’re welcome, you WIN!  No, I think it’s personal, how you respond, can be different depending on what the person is thanking you for, but nonetheless it made me think about it.  And it was VERY interesting to me to see which of you said you’re welcome.  Interesting because I think our responses completely depend on how we were raised, which could also create an entirely different blog altogether, but I think it really does depend on what was status quo in our own households.  We live in a world where right now I would say the majority of us think that the world “owes us” something…we do not do nice things because we want to or because we are nice people, we do them and then wonder what we will get back from it…what do I get in return kind of thing…which is sad.

I would imagine the next time someone says Thank You, I will definitely take a second to think about it and try NOT to say you bet…

What the H*E*L*L* is "crunch coat" made of...

I think have reached the end of the internet.  I did not think it was possible.  But I think I have done it.  And all I wanted to know is what the “crunch” on my crunch cone was made out of.  Like, obviously, it is edible, but WHAT am I eating.  It tastes a little peanutty, but I can find nothing to prove such a thing.  Whatever the hell it is, I love it.  I must have it on ice cream if I get ice cream, at an ice cream place.

First of all, let’s get one thing clear; I don’t eat ice cream cones.  I have a horrible history with them in case you forgot; feel free to read this to refresh your memory.  I HATE ICE CREAM CONES.  I get my ice cream in a dish and I put crunchies on it.  Yes this is a colossal waste of plastic and I am in no way helping Mother Earth, but I can't help it.  I love them.  LOVE THEM.  Depending on what you find when you do a Google search, I guess DQ calls it Crunch Coat…but apparently the real name is Sprinkle King Almond?  Who knew?  Well, this chic does as I found, thank GOD through her blog!  Sprinkle King Almond 

So go ahead, go to Google and type either of those two things and if you can find the list of its ingredients, I will kiss your face, because I, I cannot.  I just want to know what the hell I am eating.  It won’t change whether I get it in the future or not, but now I am mad because I didn’t just get the simple answer I was looking for.

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, if any of you know what the heck is in the crunchies I get at B’s Drive-Inn (I think it’s a Midwest thing too) with the sprinkles in it, please tell me.  What makes the delicious little nuggets of crunch so dang delicious?  I DON’T KNOW. 

And I will not rest until I do...

The Hunger Games...

I am not a follower.  Rarely, if at all.  I am not always a leader either.  I don’t know what I would call myself, but I typically beat to my own drummer, color outside the lines, refuse to do things half-assed, you get the idea.  For instance, when Pinterest came out, I sure as heck was not going to get involved with that if half of the world was as well.  Well, that didn’t last long.  Another good example though would be the Harry Potter books/movies, as well as the Twilight books/movies.  I REFUSED literally to read or watch these things.  My friend Brandi FORCED me (tied me to her couch and refused to feed me) to watch the first two Twilight movies with her and although I didn’t hate them, I haven’t finished watching the rest of them and probably won’t.  I cannot for the life of me get into vampires.  No matter how hard I try.  And I know there is a big market out there for them and that is great.  Just not my cup of tea. 

So, it came as no surprise to me that when word of The Hunger Games came out, that I flat out put my foot down and said I refused to read the book and I sure as hell wasn’t going to the movie without reading the book, so case closed.  Not so fast Tiffany.  All of my friends were or had read it.  Everything I was reading was about it.  What is this Hunger Games they speak of?  At best my curiosity was peaked.  Even when it was explained to me, what the book was about, I was all like, meh, and I am not a big futuristic apocalypse kind of fan so this book is going to be stupid. 

At some point it became blatantly apparent that if I DID NOT read the book, I would at some point real soon like, be in the minority.  And even though I don’t mind being in the minority, there are sometimes you just want to NOT be.  This was one of those times.  If the whole world is going to be talking about it I at least want to make an educated argument if I so chose to talk about it.  And that would require reading the book.  So, my momma did as momma does, went out and purchased it for me one weekend I was down visiting so I didn’t waste another day of not knowing what everyone was talking about.

If you don’t know by now, it is a Trilogy.  I finished the first two books, The Huger Games, and Catching Fire, in two days.  Literally.  Yes they are a quick read and yes they were originally written and geared towards young adults…but something happened, something I wasn’t expecting, as soon as I began reading.  I became attached.

I am not going to blow it for any of my readers who have not read them yet, so I will just say that I absolutely loved these books.  Like I would have to say I rank this series in my Top 10 of books ever read.  Even though it is set in the future, it is unbelievably true to the way the world functions right now.  It is believable I guess, which is why I loved it so much.  Because what happens is already happening in our world right now, just not necessarily in this context.  It is really profound and makes you think about a lot of things not just the whole premise behind the book.  At least it did for me. 

I am currently reading the 3^rd and final in the series.  I am reading all the articles that are out about this book and the upcoming movie.  Most of the people I have talked to have read it or are going to.  Most of the people didn’t like the 3^rd book as much as the first 2, which I found incredibly interesting because the lead actress in the movie finds the 3^rd book her favorite.  So now I am excited to get through it so I can see what she is referring to.  

I think it will strike a chord with everyone that reads it, in some way or another.  I am excited to hear what people think about it once the movie comes out.  This is one of those movies that I want to stay as true to the book as possible too, so I hope it does.  I generally do not get excited about movies and can patiently wait for them to come out on DVD or whatever, but this one, I must see in the theatre…and soon.  It opens Friday…

If you have a summer reading list, I suggest you add this to it.  It won’t take up much of your time and I honestly think you will love it.  If you don’t?  I would love to know why.

Irish I could drink some Jameson tomorrow...

I fell in love with Whiskey the winter I came back from Hawaii.  I think.  Maybe it was the one before that.  Either way, I had a terrible cold, horrible cough, chest hurt, yada yada yada, and my father swears by Whiskey when someone has a bad cough with or without the rest of the hot totty to go with it.  I too believe in a shot of whiskey if you have a cough.  I have found nothing in the world works better.  Seriously. 

This was the first time I had ever drank Whiskey.  I owned a bar and served this liquid gold for years, but never tried it.  I thought it insane that there were so many kinds…I mean really, what the hell is the difference.  Well let me tell you, there is a HUGE difference.  I started my love affair with Whiskey with the true Irish Gold, Jameson.  Not top top shelf, but definitely not your cheap ass whiskey either.  I took one shot.  That’s it.  Plugged my nose so I could handle it going down.   Instantly stopped coughing.  For hours.  So I did a shot a day, for the next few days. 

One night during my cold recovery, I met my friend Brandi for a drink up at my old bar.  I ordered a shot of Jameson, and a Diet Coke.  Normally I would do the shot, and just drink the coke.  For whatever reason, that I may never know, I decided to put the shot in my coke.  This is when the love affair began.  Hmmm…this is quite a delicious drink I think to myself and probably out loud to Brandi too.  I didn’t love the taste of it as much as I loved the way it made my legs feel.  The way the warmth spreads all the way down to my toes, not at all unlike the way Morphine feels when you have broken your leg and they want you to shut up and quit screaming.  Same phenomenon.  It feels like a big hug from the best hugger.  A kiss from the best kisser.  Crawling in to your bed and being wrapped around your favorite sheets.  You get the idea.  I loved it.  I loved the way it made me first feel warm, then like I had no care in the world, then like I could conquer the world…unfortunately, for me, the feeling after conquering the world, was blackout world.  I have no recollection of what happens after I feel like I am the Queen.  So, for my own safety and the safety of those around me or who care about me, I had to end my love affair with Whiskey.

Maybe you are asking (or most likely not) why I can’t just have a drink, like one drink.  Ummm probably the same reason I can’t just have one beer.  I don’t have an addictive personality, at least I don’t think I do, but I do when it comes to alcoholic beverages that make my feet feel warm and fuzzy.  It’s not fair to tease me with one whiskey.  It is just easier to not have it at all.

So imagine my pain and anguish every year when St. Patrick’s Day rolls around.  It is my favorite holiday.  I love all holidays who’s primary goal is to get drunk and be merry…i.e. Fat Tuesday, Cinco de Mayo…I would love nothing more than to celebrate as the rest of Ireland will be tomorrow, with some Irish Whiskey, but I can’t.  Not if I want to remember the day at all.  And I cannot stand Guinness so; I can’t even have an Irish beer either.  I am not worried.  I will still celebrate, just without Irish beverages.  And no, I am not getting a shamrock shake from Mc D’s even though I used to love them. 

I did learn some fun things about Whiskey during our time together though.  Aside from Irish Whiskey, I love Canadian Whisky.  So it may come as a surprise to people when I tell them that my favorite Whiskey is Canadian Club or Seagrams VO.  I prefer it over American Whiskey, Bourbons, and blended varieties.  I think that is important information when a person needs to act like they know what they are doing when they drink it.

So, if you have a healthier relationship with Whiskey than I do, or rather you are perfectly fine having JUST ONE, pour one out for me tomorrow and toast to my favorite holiday.  Have a safe and happy St. Patrick’s Day!

HOME...

Home.  What does it mean to you?  It means something different to us all I think, with some similarities intertwined every once in a while.  I posed this question on my Facebook and got a variety of answers but mostly the answers I expected.  Nothing really came out and shocked me, not that I was necessarily looking for something shocking, but I always like to see what other people say.

You have heard the more common completions to that question.  Home is: where the heart is, whenever I am with you, where I live, my address or residence, where the mom is, where my animals are, where our story begins, where we start from, where my children were raised…etc.  You have heard them, you have said them, heck, and some of you may even have something hanging on your wall right now this very second that says what HOME IS or what it means to you.

I got a lot of good responses.  There isn’t a right or wrong answer.  It is whatever it means to you.   I don’t look at home as a place though, as much as I do a feeling.  Some people make me feel like I am home.  Some places make me feel like home.  Some songs remind me of home.  Some smells remind me of home.  Meaning I would say, this feels like home to me.  You feel like home to me.  This scent smells like home to me.  This song reminds me of being home.   Meaning, it is not so much a place I call, as much as it is a feeling I feel.

I have felt like I was home on more than one occasion.  With different people, at different places and at different times in my life.  Maybe it would be easier to say what home is NOT.  It is not 4 walls.  It is not always where I lay my head.  A house does not make a home.  It is not just an address.   I have been held and felt like I was home.  I can be with friends I only get to see once or twice a year and feel like I am home.  I have felt at home sitting on a bench watching the sun set, alone.  Home is so many things, to so many people.  I just wondered how many people sat back and really thought about what it means to them.

So it seems a little bit crazy to me when someone uses the word Homeless.  I mean we instantly assume, they do not have a roof over their head and technically that is how the word would be described.  However I have been homeless before, recently as a matter of fact, but I have ALWAYS had a roof over my head.  A physical address to which my mail is received.  Well, how can I be homeless but have always had a home?  If I said that to you, what would you think I meant?  Initially, I would think that you would think I was living in my car.  I know very wealthy people who I would call homeless.  Does that make any sense?  It’s kind of like being happy.  You can have everything you ever want in your whole life and still be empty emotionally.  Now, I am not emotionally empty, but I have had days where that tank was getting low.  I mean that just because we all have a home that we drive to every single day; it doesn’t necessarily mean we are not homeless. 

Mostly I just wondered if anyone else looked at it that way.

KONY 2012

I don't need a whole bunch of words to explain this to you, please just watch the video.  KONY 2012.  If you do nothing else but watch it and tell one person about it, you have done your part.  30 minutes of your life, that should change your life in some way.  At least I hope so.

Very few things move me to the point of tears and then over that point, but this did.  If I had two good legs I would be hard pressed to not go over there myself and find the SOB.

Tell everyone you know.  Please.

Church...

A friend posted this question on her Facebook status yesterday; what is your definition of Church?  And I replied that I didn’t have enough space to answer that that I would have to Blog about it.  Because really, I have no clue who cares, if anyone, how I feel about the topic, but if someone does care, they can read my Blog and not be forced to read it on Facebook.

Politics, religion, same sex issues, rape, abortion…I tend to stay away from those topics because they are truly very personal and emotional topics that differ vastly from person to person.  I am not a fool to believe that any of my thoughts on any of these issues are the right thoughts or the wrong thoughts.  That takes a very brazen person to think that.  And if a person does that to me, insists that their beliefs about a certain topic are the right way or whatever, that said person is destined to never be my friend, or someone I will care very much about.  I care about a person who DOES believe a certain way, but who respects others who may not.  Who is not afraid to express how they feel about something, but who is also not foolish enough to think that EVERYONE must feel that way too.  I love when people feel differently about something.  It’s not because it causes conflict, it’s because it opens my eyes to something I may have not bothered to look at before.  Not all people are capable of this.

The question was not who you call God, or define God, as would require a whole separate blog entirely for me.  There are so many religions, worshiping different Gods, calling him different names.  I am no one to specify which one is the right one or wrong one.  To each their own.  The question was what your definition of Church is.

Church meant something to me many years ago, that it does not mean now.  I can tell you this:

My BEEF with the school lunch system...

Here I go off on another tangent that I probably only have parts of the information to, so I am saying that in advance.  I still have the right to my opinion and that is strictly what this is.  I am positive that my educator friends or those who work in the “system” can help me out here or point me in the right direction.  I am not an investigative reporter, but I can surely follow that career path if necessary.

So apparently, school lunches are now put on a card?  You pay an amount for them in advance that goes on an account.  That card gets swiped daily when you go through the line or purchase ala carte menu items.  (It is important to also state that is not just in reference to my previous school, but pretty much the schools nationwide.)  You can put $ on your card at the office, but not in the lunch line, like say your card doesn’t have enough money on it, but you have cash.  So, if your card doesn’t have enough $ on it, you are not allowed to pay cash for your school lunch at lunch time, you should have done that prior to lunch.  Even if you dangle the $ right there to show you have it and can pay for the lunch you are about to eat.

I do not know who makes the lunch rules.  If it varies per state, per district, whatever, I have no clue.  I am not about to pretend that I do know.  So I am hoping someone will enlighten me. 

I know that at some point all of my nieces and nephew who are still in school, have not had enough $ on their cards to get lunch.  I also know that in the Grade School you get a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich and a carton of milk if you do not have enough $, I am guessing that the same applies for the High School.  I also know that a card between siblings is shared, so if one is in the High School and one is in the Grade School, it is theoretically possible for one to spend a lot more $ (ala carte) then the other for lunch, which is neither here nor there, but it is a very quick way to go through the $ you do have on the card.

Pin This! Pinterest...

Well, my stop being angry campaign didn’t even last a day!  At least this is no one I personally know!  I have a bone to pick with the creators of Pinterest.  Or whoever is responsible over there.  I will probably write them a letter.  But until then…I will complain about them here on my Blog.

The other day I got an email from a food site, Recipe.com…I follow A LOT of food sites because although I don’t cook daily like a mad woman, I have good intentions of doing so…and I want ideas.  Fine.  Recipe.com was inviting me to FOLLOW THEM on Pinterest.  Seems innocent enough.  NO, NO IT IS NOT AND I WILL TELL YOU WHY.

I first heard of Pinterest through my friend Shelly, but I never checked it out, just noticed she mentioned it.  Then through one of sister’s ramblings I heard her mention it as well.  Again, not real excited, because we do not like the same things and I was sure I would not enjoy it.  I checked it out and literally hated it.  Despised it.  What was this nonsense?  What the hell do you do?  How do you do it?  Why do I care what people put on an imaginary bulletin board?  These are people who have homes, children, marriages, or planning a wedding, etc.  This did NOT apply to me.  And honestly, who the hell cares what I put on my board!? I probably didn’t spend 5 minutes there.  AND THEN, when I found out you to have request an invite, I was wicked livid pissed.  What are you going to do?  A background check on me?  Anyway…the real reason I went ahead and requested an invite was because Sister follows all of these really cool bloggers and that is how she found them, through stuff pinned on Pinterest.  Ok…I will suck it up, and probably never follow through with it.

Angry all the time...

I read this article the other day called “How to Stop Beingan Angry Person.”  Feel free to click on it and read the article if you so desire but to be honest it didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.  I actually printed it for Sister, which is funny, (well I think it is) because I am constantly telling her she is mean and hateful.  Which in reality is entirely different from being angry, which is what the article is about, so I guess I am admitting that UNCONCSIOUSLY I printed this article for myself?  Ok, I admitted that.  So we may as well keep the ball rolling and just keep coming clean.

Hello, my name is Tiffany, and I am an angry person.  It sounds funny, but perhaps I need a social group or a group therapy program with other angry people so I don’t feel so alone.  I suppose that you could call it Anger Management, but I am not worried so much that I have a problem with expressing my anger as much as I have a problem with being angry all the time. 

I think I have been for a while, been an angry person that is.  I can pretty much tell you the moment it started, where I was sitting, what time of day it was, who was there, what the room smelled like and the emotions that overwhelmed me that moment.  I am positive that was the turning point because I haven’t been the same person since.  The article mentions that how you handle anger goes back to your childhood, (or so they say.)  That is not the case with me.  I was not an angry child.  I was a sick child, but not necessarily angry.  And my home life was not full of anger.  I was not forbidden to express it.  My parents were not angry people that I can remember…so I can’t blame this on my childhood.   My back accident was a turning point for sure, but I swam in and out of that through the years.  That caused more depression than anger.  I suppose those two emotions co-exist, but I was more sad than angry.  No, the moment I am speaking of happened about 2.5 years ago.  Perhaps I never properly dealt with it and that is why I have just been in one big perpetual series of anger.  If you are angry and hateful at the world the world will respond back to you that way.  I am a firm believer of that now.