Posts Tagged ‘relationships’

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.

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!

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.

Come Together

In The Daily Drool on February 13, 2010 at 10:49 am

People can be a whole lot like cattle.  I think it’s part of why I can get so claustrophobic in crowded places, my imagination terrified by the possibilities of a stampede.  Masses of people have been known to do all sorts of horrific things- oftentimes eschewing individual thought in favor of stupidity – sometimes often to tragic ends.

But, like yin and yang, there come spots of sunshine… combined efforts – groups of people working together en mass – that inspire you… that show you the great possibility, the promise, of humankind.

And it’s this duality that is so striking to me.  This potential for “either”.  We are, after all, just people.  We are bound to dip into the dark and grey on occasion.  We are none of saints or sinners, but more likely a microcosmic representation of this yin/yang juxtaposition… confronted daily with choices that either negate or reaffirm our primary affiliation.  Am I plus or am I minus?  Am I present or am I satellite?  Am I me or am I us?

Then this morning I watched the new “We are the World” video (some of you probably saw it on TV last night before the Olympic Games started) and I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face at the passion put into making this video, and the energy put into helping the people of Haiti.  And I was moved by the goodness, by the hope, by the music of their spirit.

Because we are capeable of such greatness!  Of such love!  It’s reaffirming to see it in action, even as there is so much fighting everywhere around us.

I’m not a believer in in “MAN”- I don’t think we are the end-all/be-all of this planet, this existence… I believe instead that we are but one part, one piece, a piece with the ability to love and protect this place, our home, or to destroy it.   And we are in a constant state of moral, ethical, and spiritual evolution.  We should strive to be our best selves because all that we do is reflected around us… we really are, in some ways, the world – it turns and turns regardless, but our social structures, the way we have chosen to live, is based on our collective design.  Why not try to make it better?

And I’m not sure where all this is coming from except that there is something joyful and life-affirming in seeing people coming together to work towards a redemptive purpose… To help someone else.  To step beyond the self.  To stir other hearts to listening.

It’s a sweet bit, along this sometimes tart and sour path to humanity.

Hairballs and Through-lines

In The Daily Drool on February 12, 2010 at 1:41 pm


That’s what I’m thinking about when the in-box chimes in, its merry little alarm singing “You have mail” with a one-note DING.

I’m thinking about hairballs and why Midnite seems to only be stricken with them when I’m attending to Daredevil’s snuggle-itus, and how that coincidence points to her having feelings on the subject, feelings of jealousy or annoyance, feelings that, as I hop to her side and coo at her heaving sides, seem to disappear just as suddenly and as magically as that “hairball” had arrived.  And I’m thinking that this cat, this feline, is quite a lot smarter than you’d think just by looking at her.

And then the email bell dings and Midnite’s twitching her tail with satisfaction because at least it’s not “The Other Cat” that I’m abandoning her for.


You have mail.

You have mail from someone male.

Someone you haven’t heard from in a while.

Someone that makes you a little nervous.

And I’m thinking “HAIRBALL!”  In my throat.  I can feel it, blocking, chugging, irritating…  I can FEEL IT.

But there isn’t anyone here to tend to my nerves, it’s just me and my warring kitties.  Warring today because the sun was finally out and there was only one good block of sunshine to be sprawled in, and then I came along and there was sunshine and a lap to be fought over.

And I’m wondering, along the lines of this monumental hairball that I’m feeling, this thing choking me into paralysis, I’m wondering if it isn’t all some sort of ridiculous joke.

Why do I still care?  Why should my sides need petting, so to speak, when naught has passed, and naught shall pass, and it’s just me and my kitties and this computer I lean on?

And then I look to Midnite and her flickering tail, and I look at the computer and it’s flickering light, and I turn on my heel, choke down this big lump, and take my cloistered self on out the door.

I pick up the keys on my way, I toss on a hat to hide the bed-head-hair, and I step out into the light of the world – a world where the sun shines not just in patch on the floor, bur across the whole sky.  And I take a deep breath, a breath filled with possibility.

There are no hairballs.

There are no electronic dings.

There is only sunshine and fresh air.

Sick Day

In The Daily Drool on February 9, 2010 at 12:47 pm


I hate it.

I hate trying to fall asleep, only to be kept awake by the constant drip, drip, drip of the stuff… So maybe you fold up some tissue and wedge it into your nostrils in a pitiful, “I-don’t-care-what-this-looks-like-or-if-it-will-have-permanent-repercussions-for-my-nostrils” attempt to staunch the drip.  Maybe you prop the pillow against your now-open jaw so you can mouth-breath without that fretful waking at the moment it truly relaxes and plops open even further…

And maybe you preface the whole process with a couple of Nyquil capsules and a brief prayer that this nastiness go away sososososo quickly, please!

But waking up the next morning and surveying the wreckage of your bed, and the dissarray of tissue… well, it’s really nothing compared to realizing, at 12:30 in the afternoon, that this cold from hell has also taken your sense of smell.


I smeared the Vix all over my chest only to realize 30 seconds in that I was wrinkling my nose out of memory… I couldn’t really smell it!  Doubting myself, I went so far as to stick my nose INTO the jar and inhale deeply… a couple of times – Nothing.

Who wants to bring me chicken noodle soup?

Road Signs and Eyeballs

In Essays, The Daily Drool on January 11, 2010 at 5:00 pm

There is an interesting thing that happens along Tennessee Ave. over here in Los Angeles- traveling east/west, it alternates stop signs so that (as you travel along) you may have to stop at the next intersection, or you might get to blow right through while the unfortunate North/South’ers must wait… or you could all have to stop and play “Who’s on my right?”.  The point is, there’s no consistency, so you can’t assume that just because you’re stopping and waiting a turn, everyone else is too.

I mention all this because it never fails that someone comes trekking right along, stops, and starts to go before honking at you insanely for driving through the intersection like you’re supposed to – oblivious to the fact that THEY are the one’s NOT PAYING ATTENTION. You see, they’re only looking at their own signs… their own road.  And you, lovely little you, are but an intrusion on their journey.

And I think that’s interesting.

How many times in your life do you run into people who are suffering from a similar degree of “tunnel vision?”  I bet it’s often, hell, I bet some of you are even guilty of this yourself.  We can’t ALWAYS be paying attention to EVERYTHING after all.

But there are some major self-obsessed douche bags out there walking around and I’d like to just say that when I meet them, I kind of want to launch them into outer space, because they’re not making life any easier for the rest of us who share planet Earth… you know what I mean?

Because it’s not just courtesy to look both ways before pulling into the intersection, it’s life saving.

There are too many people out here, and too many issues on the table NOT to be looking around yourself, to in fact, try to look BEYOND yourself, as you cruise on down the life-path.  This world has a much bigger population than YOU!

So, slow down!  Take a breather.  Look up from your self-obsessions and self-loathings, and your self entirely, and pay attention!

You might learn something.

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!