Posts Tagged ‘Love’

The Fun-Time-Hangover

In The Daily Drool on April 13, 2010 at 4:29 pm

I’ve always suffered a day of the blues after any really fun event… as though the regular world is left less sparkly in comparison.  I don’t know why I’m like this, but I do remember feeling as though Thornton Wilder really nailed it when he let poor little Emily have another glimpse at her past after she’s died and the sheer fleeting beauty of it all sent her reeling.

Sometimes I even get overwhelmed by the joy as it’s happening, all too aware that it will eventually come to an end.

Well, this weekend wasn’t anything too riotous, but I did get to spend a lot of time with my family and some old friends, laughing, eating, drinking and just enjoying life.  It was like a little mini vacation for the soul.  And today, as I return to reality and look around once more at the uncertainty I’m swimming in, I just want to crawl back to “then” and laugh it up some more instead.

And while I sincerely hope there are many more of these times ahead, I can’t help but fret over the enormity of the blank, open-endedness in front of me.  Have I made good decisions?  Am I going to make good choices as I proceed ahead?  Will I ever know the feeling of gainful employment again?  Is a loving awesome partnership on its way towards me, or have I completely lost all faith in such things?  I’m not going to wind up a cat lady, am I?  When will I begin again to feel some semblance of balance?

Because I want more of the good times and less of these “ordinary” days built of confusion and anxiety…

And because then I realized the hypocrisy…

In The Daily Drool on March 8, 2010 at 10:52 am

Sooooo,  which among those of you throwing their eyeballs at this isn’t sick and tired of hearing about “Heartbreak 2009 (+ a wee bit of 2010)”?  Yeah, I thought so.   I mean, I’ve talked about it quite a bit, and I’m pretty sick of it myself.

Yet, I realized shortly after yesterday’s post about the bravery of loving even when you know it could hurt, that I am soooooo not looking for anymore “dogs” to love for just that very reason:  I am afraid.

Boo on me.

Boo for making a strong case only to hold it up to you all and wag my little finger, but then look around myself and pull in the ropes and push off for sea without inviting anyone else aboard this soap-box.

And without any plans to do so again in the near future.

Oh, sure, I know the pain of all that loving-and-not-receiving-in-turn will fade… I’ll lose my mind again over some cute little golden retriever or cocker spaniel…  But I am not looking forward to it.  For the first time ever I can say “Umm no thanks, not right now, I’m not looking for another helping of ‘whoop-ass’ just yet, thanks.”

Because the fear of the pain of loving?  It’s got me good.

And I just think it’s hilarious that I could be so caught up in the idea of “Well, if you’re afraid to love, you’ll never know the accompanying joy” that I would completely miss my own point.


So, this is just really a FACE IT! blog… an admission that while it is nice to preach the joy and benefits of love, living that bravely is a different story all together.  One I may have lived in my twenties, but one that I’m less eager to push through in my thirties… I guess older bones take more time to heal.

Because Jason started talking about dogs…

In The Daily Drool on March 7, 2010 at 10:46 am

My friend Jason keeps a lovely blog about the writer’s life.  He ruminates on things theatrical, familial and sometimes just downright funny, but today (or maybe last night) he posted something about a family he knows who’s dog (only 2 years old) has a form of devestating cancer, and how the sadness that had overcome the family at their beloved pet’s short time left made him realize that he didn’t want to go through his own love-em and lose-em dog story.

And I totally understand because when you bring a pet into your home, you are building a special and unique love affair… a love affair that leaves you hopeless to protect yourself from their eventual passing.  You don’t know how long it will last (Do we ever know how anything will turn out?) and you can’t imagine the sorrow left behind when they leave… But the adventures you share?  The love and the laughter?  Oh my!

I think about our crazy dog (the only one we ever had) WILD THING.  (Yes, she really deserved that name. In CAPS)  Wild Thing was a springer-cocker spaniel… a runner, a chaser, an M&M thief… she loved chocolate, and our first Christmas with her she dove into Santa’s stash, stealing a giant Hershey’s bar, tearing it open and giving herself the chocolate rush of a lifetime.  When we woke up in the morning we panicked and called the vet to see what we should do, to which he calmly replied that if she looked alright, she probably was alright, and that it was dark chocolate that was the real drama-inducer for pets.   We looked down at her goofy grinning face as she snuffled amongst the gifts, looking for more things to steal/eat/chew up and had to admit, the dog looked to be in pretty good spirits.

She learned the words M&M, Cats, Squirrel, Walk, and Bath…  And while I think she actually understood most words most of the time, these are the words she let on that she knew.

CATS:  Wild Thing was our Cat Patrol agent.  Whenever the cats got into mischief, she would find a human and prance back and forth between us and the offending feline until we made the “Pssst” sound or told her to go on “Cat Patrol” – then she would take off after that cat like it was dipped in chocolate.  Even now, the cats remember her and take off when the “Psst” noise gets trumpeted.

SQUIRRELS:  Wild Thing was OBSESSED.  When my parents lived up in Lakeside there were no limit to the number of Squirrels living around the house.  Wild Thing would sit at attention for hours beneath a tree if she knew a squirrel hovered in its branches.  And those squirrels hated it!  They would cuss her out big time.  If she was inside and saw one, she would lose her mind, and you’d have to let her out so she could go barreling outside after it.

WALK?:  She would get so excited at the prospect of going for a walk that it almost became my habit to not tell her what I was planning until I snuck the leash onto her collar, otherwise I’d spend 5 minutes trying to get her to sit still enough to do so.  She never learned to “Heel” and she never learned not to pull at the leash… what you wound up with was a headstrong, nearly choking, bird-dog pulling you through the neighborhood as though you were a stone in her shoe.  “Hurry UP!!” she seemed to scream, as she sniffed, licked, and peed her way through the streets.

BATH: No thanks!  This dog LOVED hopping in the water of the lake, splashing in the mud, and (ewww) rolling in the cow-patties or (if it was an especially fortuitous day) dead things.  Returning from a victorious romp at the lake would inevitably become a “Saddest dog EVER” display as the water hose was turned on and poor little stinky Wild Thing had to have a bath.  Puppy-dog-eyes indeed!

And when she got sick, she seemed proud of her 14 years of love, service, loyalty, and insane irritation.  She took to getting up from the comfort of her napping-space (wherever it may be) and bringing her farts into the room with the most people in it,  so as to avoid stinking up her sleeping area.  She stopped hopping on top of the couch like the cats, and was content to keep to low ground most of the day.  She got slower, more cautious, and her hearing was weak, but she never took her eye off those cats, and she never gave up that M&M fetish.  And when she said her goodbye, we cried and promised ourselves we would never get another dog again, because it was just too hard to say goodbye…

But I suppose what I think of now, when I feel my heart tremble at the idea of loving another dog, is all the love she brought us when she was here and all the joy we get at celebrating her memory.  The dog was a chore, a challenge, she could be monumentally frustrating… but she was one of us.  So many of our memories have her in them… as though she is part of our collective thread.  And I wouldn’t change that for a moment, even though loosing her was just impossibly hard.

We adopt our pets with the understanding that we’re going to be taking care of them for a long time… it’s only later that we see just how much they’ve been taking care of us.  So I understand the hesitancy… and maybe getting a pet is a bad idea for all sorts of reasons (not enough room, not home enough, too many delicate vases and valuable rugs) but to not invite that kind of love into your house just because you know it will end?  Woof, that one’s hard to wrestle.

Not Ready, NOT READY!

In The Daily Drool on March 3, 2010 at 1:24 pm

Friends show their affection in different ways; Hugs, bottles of wine, late night gab sessions, sometimes they even help you pack (ahem)  – but the strangest of all these displays has to be the “Fix-Up.”

I mean, here you have someone telling you that they like you so much that they want to help you find love.  They think so much of you and your happiness, that they become positively giddy at the thought of setting you up with So-and-So (usually a friend of a friend) who they just thought would be “Just PERFECT for you!”

And it’s always with the best of intentions, but really, in all honesty, I’m still not even close to ready for another romantic adventure- even a day-trip!  I got totally TOSSED this last time – and not only was I tossed, I was trampled, squashed, and forgotten about.  Why, oh, why would I get back in the ring now?  It’s still too fresh.  I need more time to forget about the pain before I can even THINK about getting hoodwinked by the fun again.

Perhaps it’s just part of getting older, of having one’s heart broken so many times… of realizing that I keep giving it away to idiots who don’t deserve it (but who I sooo think do at the time)

I don’t want to do any of that again.

I like, SO, don’t want to.


(pant, pant, pant)

So… I appreciate the thought.  I really do.  And if I were you, I’d probably think the same thing -“Oh, Tiffany is such a sweet girl, and she’s got such a big heart…”  But the heart-shop is closed up, and I don’t feel so sweet right now.

Really, you’re doing your “handsome, funny, pretty-good-looking” friend a favor by NOT introducing me right now… I feel like a tornado.  I would probably eat him alive.

* Author admits this attitude may be fleeting and anyone coming across sweet, funny, employed potential who likes cats should probably go ahead and inquire as to present state of Tornado *

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…

In The Daily Drool on February 28, 2010 at 10:12 am

Yes, it’s true.  And I’ve been a cyber-witness to it these past three days.

Remember my post a few days ago about a certain someone posting her philandering ex-fiance’s name and his criminal betrayal, all over Facebook?  Well, she’s been reposting it steadily.  Yes, a daily “In case you missed it, this guy is a total douche!”  I wonder how long the campaign will last?

She’s received several supportive posts along the lines of “Whoa!  What an asshole” and I’m glad that there is a virtual support network getting woven via satellite and cable-modem for her, but wow!  Here be warned, all ye’ potential wrong-doers – the internet is not YOUR friend!


In The Daily Drool on February 22, 2010 at 1:07 pm

Last night my friends turned “Writer’s Karaoke” into a Surprise party, and knocked my perky little socks off.

This is what I’m talking about when I say that I have made some amazing friends out here, friends that I love and appreciate and who make me feel safe even amidst all the craziness.

And they are super crafty too.

I knew that Jacob had sent an invite to the cast of Jane Doe because it inadvertently got sent to me (I didn’t read it because I got a text message telling me not to, but I did see the subject line).  But I did NOT think that he had contacted everyone I had told I was leaving!  Walking into the bar and seeing so many faces that I wasn’t expecting to 1- see at all, or 2- see together, was very overwhelming and sent me into a bit of a spin.

A happy spin.

The kind that made me want to go back and re-live it when I woke up this morning.

It’s true that love can hurt, but people are what make this life worth living- the love that you share with friends and family really is all you need!

Because they will always have a place for you to lay your head and get your feet under yourself again.  They will hug you and hold you tight and they will remind you that even though you’re scared, they are there to help you get through it.

And that is more valuable than all the diamonds and gold and time-shares in the world…

So thank you, Los Angeles, for introducing me to these wonderful, beautiful people.

And thank you to my amazing friends for the awesome surprise.  🙂

Cleaning House

In The Daily Drool on February 19, 2010 at 11:40 pm

I think it’s good and healthy, to know oneself.  To be privy to one’s own strengths and flaws.  It’s difficult, sure, on both fronts… One is often told not to brag, not to wear one’s strengths too loudly, and sometimes as a result of that ingrained humility, we forget how to wear them at all.  And of course, adding up one’s faults, or weakness, is uncomfortable for a whole host of reasons- probably chief among them the fact that once you admit to it, well, shouldn’t you do something about it?

I’ve had a lot of time to think about things like this lately. To try and tally my victories as well as the upsets… To look at myself honestly and without judgement. To simply… Be.

It’s not easy to do.

But I realized something tonight- not everyone has the ability to add any of this up in the first place.

And that means that being aware of this dilemma is, in and of itself, a strength.

Very often when I’m confronted with something, a bump in the road per se, I’m thrown, perhaps disoriented, but then I pick myself up and try to find a way over, around, beneath or through, that bump.  I don’t like to be stymied.  I hate feeling powerless.  I strive to reach beyond it.

And until today, I thought everyone else did too.  I thought that everyone else at least wanted to.

But today I realized, sometimes people reach those bumps and just… sit down.

And sure, they sit down for any number of reasons… but it’s NOT an option for me.  Sure, I might need to pull over and catch my breath, or I might make a hasty decision or two in my approach, but I will never just look at that bump, shrug my shoulders, and let it win.

Because I’m tougher than that.

Because I strive to be my best self.

Because I am not tethered to this road, but rather, it is here for me to step upon.

And I suppose one must learn when to simply step past the “sitters”.

Today I looked back at a hill and saw that I am the mighty one.

And that’s worth putting on my list.

Honesty… honestly

In Essays, The Daily Drool on January 5, 2010 at 10:40 am

Sometimes it’s hard to really own up to your own intentions.

I mean, I’ve always been pretty good about declaring responsibility for things when I muddy them up- I’m not a very good liar- No, no, now, even that, that right there, that stuff that I just wrote… it’s honestly not the whole of it, because I take responsibility for the things I feel like I should take responsibility for.  It’s all done according to my own moral compass which, let’s face it, is still a human one.  So, I can and do sometimes lie very well; as long as I believe in the lie or its good intentions.

Which means that while I believe I live pretty fairly and responsibly, I still, on occasion, make a decision or two that might not necessarily be on par with the sincerity I strive to maintain.

I’m thinking here about intentions.

Because I’m remembering a conversation I had with someone a few days ago, someone I hadn’t spoken to in a long time and for whom I cared for deeply.

And I don’t think I need to go into every blessed detail because the conversation isn’t the thing- it’s the internal workings of how that conversation came to be and the things I told myself in order to make it happen, and the things I’ve told myself since- that fascinate me now.

You see, I called for a strictly utilitarian purpose- to inquire as to the location of something of mine- but I also called to get it out of the way, this conversation that we hadn’t yet had.  I wanted to do it, to feel that it was done, to tie up the wonder that had been nagging at me up until then (in bits and pieces)  And also just I wanted to hear this person’s voice.

And I wanted to exercise mine.

But I didn’t admit any of this, oh no.  I felt empowered by my strictly utilitarian purpose.  So the afterwards, the “See, that was fine” was another non-truth I told myself, because the internal workings were quite stirred up by this brief “inconsequential” moment.  The inner workings were looking at me and my “truth” with dumbfounded awe wondering how could I think for one ridiculous second, that this conversation would be any kind of meaningless?


I was lying.  To myself.  Because I wanted it to be so.

But of course it wasn’t.

And oh, I’m fine now and feeling glad (overall) that we spoke.  But I’m also on to myself.  On to my own (slightly destructive) seemingly-cynical-but-secretly-breathless self-manipulations.

Because inside?  On the real, really, real inside?  Honestly?  I’m just a bigger version of the same wide eyed little girl smiling with her tongue between her teeth on the carousel… the same little girl who hated roller-coasters and speed rides, but loved cotton candy and holding my mom’s hand as we walked through the fun house giggling at the silly mirrors.

I just learned to hold that fear in check as I forced myself to get on the scary rides with the big kids, because it seemed like the thing to do.

And now, I really just want to ignore the long lines for the roller coasters altogether and get back to the pure joy I still feel on that merry go round.

So when that little girl wants something, I try to get it for her.  Even if I know it’s risky or hard to reach.  But I also push her in directions she knows are scary, and that’s the bargain we’ve struck.  Risk for reward, risk for reward… and sometimes those things require a little grand illusion to get the deed done.

You see, I do want to be honest with myself, but I find that it requires letting some of the disappointment and fear be real; the fear that I’ve made some bad choices, that I’m alone in LA, broke and eerily hermit-ish, that I’m 31 and so far from being financially sound that I want to scream, and the incredible fear that I could be so many months out of my last relationship and still miss the idiot every once in a while…

So instead, I let myself tell the sweet interior me the things that will quiet her, soothe her, even if she knows I’m lying not being completely honest… at least I’m doing it to protect her.


The 2009 Wrap Up

In The Daily Drool on December 31, 2009 at 10:50 am

Wow.  What a year.  Let’s recap:

January 2009:  Yay!  Hip, hip, hooray!  It’s 2009 and all is (record scratching)  What?  You’re laying me OFF?   Oh.  Fuck.

February:  Hmmm, If I have a job lined up for March 1st, does that mean I can take this month to write?  I think so… Hey, diddle, diddle dee, that’s a whole month of writing for me… Oh, what?  Valentines Day?  That’s for suckers… I mean, maybe I’m a bit of a sucker too… but I don’t have… I mean, I kind of had… Oops, no, no I don’t.  Shit.  (sigh) Stupid Cupid.

March:  Yay, Yay, I’m getting paid to make snacks for The Colony crew, and writing, and… trying not to loose my mind because I don’t know what I’m doing after this… GAH!!!  Wait, dad is sick again?  SHIT!  (Have complete mental breakdown pondering life, its fleeting nature, and how terrifying love can really be)

April:  Snack-time at The Colony is wrapping up… how many bags of ham and tortilla chips do you think I can sneak out of here with before anyone notices?   Well, if I bring some to my sick dad in San Diego is it alright?  No?  Jeez, Scrooges!  (sigh)  At least he’s getting better.  And I didn’t have to buy groceries for two months.

May:  Umm, so, hey, CA EDD, can I get back on the unemployment?

June:  Going to be working in a few weeks.  If. I. Can. Just. Keep. It. Together…

July:  Teaching at UCLA performing arts institute!  Best Job EVER!  Love the kids, love the classes, love the paycheck!   Love it, love it, love it!  This is what I’m supposed to be doing (in addition to writing)  I am so happeeeeeeeeeee… wait a minute… It’s only for a month?!  (sigh)  Shit!

August:  I’m going to D.C. with my play!  It’s gonna’ be at the Kennedy Center!  Yay!  Big time, yippee!  I feel like a playwright, I am a playwright … I am a playwright who can’t pay her bills because her unemployment just ran out… WTF?!

September:  Heartbreak.  HEARTBREAK.  Teaching Acting on Saturdays and working for the Rand Corp. between sob sessions.  Buy stock in Kleenex, make millions…

October:  Alright!  I’m turning 31, get rid of that nasty zero… that’s what 30 was, a zero year!  Ran down to the nub… 31 is gonna’ be better, I can feel it, I can feel….

November:  Oh, SHIT!  I’m so out of money I’m gonna’ have to move home… No more time to be depressed or heartbroken, I gotta find a way to EAT!   Wait, what?  You’re gonna’ pay me to write a screenplay for you?  Hell, yes I’m interested!  (disaster averted… for now)

December:  Writing, writing, writing!  And brushing up my bartending chops.  And heart is on the mend, even smiled at cute boy smiling at me over zuchini tray at grocery store.  Financially distressed, resorting to box-dye and personal bang-trimming in bathroom, instituted new “You bought it, you eat it ALL” policy for all items, including really old bread that hasn’t grown any mold but almost broke tooth, and fought off monster cold that threatened to turn me into giant, gooey, undateable, unhireable, blob from outer space.   Prayed to GOD, that 2010 is better.  Wrote this.  Got dressed for New Years Eve, hoping 2010 rushes in on the wings of love and prosperity.  Don’t feel selfish asking for the things I want/need/deserve.

Last words to messy ‘ol 2009?  You were a totally unbalanced, crazy, and painful little bitch, but I’m probably (however unwillingly) stronger for it, so, thanks for the good stuff, and get on out of my sight with the bad!

2010?  I hope you got your shit together, because you and me, baby, we’re gonna’ shine!

Why do we fall for idiots?

In Dating, The Daily Drool on December 19, 2009 at 8:13 pm

After last night’s email you’d think I’d change topic, or be all flowers and fairy dust about “2010- the year Tiffany finds a man”  (yes, I know that sounds ridiculous)  But all my pining got me thinking about the men I have loved and all of them got me thinking “WHY do we fall for idiots?!”

Because I know this isn’t a psychosis belonging solely to me; Men and women alike seem to stumble head first into so many thoughtless versions of the desired sex that I really have to ask if we aren’t perhaps a little too stupid for our own good!  I mean, come ON!  The first thing the men I’ve loved have had in common?  Good souls.  The second?  They’re NOT READY!

Do I (like a hungry puppy) enjoy the chase?  Is there something (sigh) “Romantic” about the notion of a love you have to bleed for?  Have I bought into the Rom-Com scenario of “Girl meets boy, boy screws things up with girl, boy makes Grand Gesture/Grows-the-hell-up, and “Voila,” they Live Happily Ever After”?

Or, have I just got a thing for screwy men?

I don’t know.

I don’t know, but I’d better figure it out before I go handing my heart over to another one!

Maybe I just need to get more strict… more… unattainable.  Like, I need to demand better up-front and in writing.  Yeah!  The next guy who comes along better be bringing more to the table than a sloppy grin and his laundry!

And I’ll try really hard to focus on him, instead of the idiot in the back with all the sexy baggage.