tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84049392580435487922024-02-20T04:14:46.322-06:00Life as I Know itTiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-14594836748031657482010-01-07T11:36:00.001-06:002010-01-07T11:36:49.344-06:00It’s been a long time…<p> </p> <p>Today is a sad day. I got a text at 1:45am from my best friend that her Papa had just died. I’ve known this man 17 years, he was like my own family. Please keep their family in your prayers.</p> <p>R.I.P Papa, we love you.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_dwroicmDZ1k/S0Ybp8o5ypI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Q4lRoRhdXUk/s1600-h/IMG_30662.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_3066" border="0" alt="IMG_3066" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_dwroicmDZ1k/S0Ybr4UvPAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/IppaHzyQDe8/IMG_3066_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-58909986409661127892009-11-24T14:02:00.001-06:002009-11-24T14:02:33.102-06:00I don’t care if you’re homosexual<p>But could you PLEASE get blinds, or curtains, on your bedroom window so your neighbors (i.e. me) doesn’t have to see that er… act?</p> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-41001200798590878072009-08-11T15:49:00.001-05:002009-08-11T15:49:06.461-05:00In a Pickle<p>Trying to decide what my husband should do with his job is stressful. And it doesn’t help that i haven’t had a cigarette all day.</p> <p>Yesterday, Stephen’s old boss called him and asked him to come back, same pay. He told him he’d have to think about it and pretty much immediately told his current boss. He got a dollar raise and a promise of a promotion and another dollar raise in 7 months when he’s been there a year. Well, today, Mr. Robert Gordon called Stephen again also offering a thousand dollar sign on bonus if he’d come back.. I’ve yet to hear what my husbands new boss said to that. He took a 4 dollar an hour pay cut when he took this job plus we will have to pay for insurance where as Service King paid for it. But I still can’t let him make a decision without thinking about it.</p> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-47719859685838974402009-08-08T13:50:00.001-05:002009-08-08T13:50:01.723-05:00Here I am<p>20 years old wondering how my life could have turned out.</p> <p>I was adopted right after I was born. I’ve known this forever and I’ve never really given that much thought to it. I never had the desire to meet my biological parents. Never had the desire to find out my heritage or where I get my quirks. But this changed about a year ago. My dad called me one Saturday saying that my biological father’s parents tracked us down and they wanted to talk to me, to meet me. I’ve known, as long as I’ve know I was adopted, that my biological father had died, so I never thought of that side.. EVER. But here they are in my life 20 years later. After Billy died my bio-mother sent them letters and told them about her being pregnant and giving me up. Well I have all these letters, and I’ve read them. I cried for a good 2 hours after reading them. I’m not really sure why, maybe because I never really understood the situation and it gave me some perspective or maybe cause I’ve spent my whole life not thinking about it and its finally catching up. I laid in bed last night for a good hour, hour and a half, playing the “what if” game. “what if he would have made it to Cali and back?” “what if he wouldn’t have died, where would I be?” what if, what if, what if.. I hate that game and I’ve tried to avoid it since that day in the bathroom where my biological cousins cornered a three year old me and told me my mommy stole me. I’m not saying I wish things turned out different cause I don’t. My dad is the best man I will ever meet and i wouldn’t change having him for ANYTHING. But it is starting to make me curious. I just wonder why its taken this long when I’ve known since i was 3 or 4..</p> <p>I feel like I’m just rambling off everything in my head and that although this all goes with the “adoption theme” it doesn’t really make sense</p> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-52589337228119915502009-08-08T13:27:00.001-05:002009-08-08T13:27:46.007-05:00Its been a while..<p>I don’t know why I never write here. Back in the xanga days i “journaled” everday. Now that myspace came into the picture (and facebook) I quit going there. But myspace and facebook are networking sites, not blogs, so I visited xanga a while back to see if i still had my account, I do, and its changed so much i wouldn’t even know how to use it if I tried.  I even downloaded Windows Live Writer so I could update here easier.. but OBVIOUSLY it didn’t help cause here i am updating 4 months after my last post..</p> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-26307948536682653892009-04-22T19:48:00.001-05:002009-04-22T19:48:01.939-05:00Saturday, April 18, 2009<p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_dwroicmDZ1k/Se-6t2T_7GI/AAAAAAAAABo/ebKDxDWgl5g/s1600-h/IMG_3047%5B5%5D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3047" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-bottom: 0px" height="206" alt="IMG_3047" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_dwroicmDZ1k/Se-6v6kl7YI/AAAAAAAAABs/xaII5909ADI/IMG_3047_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="314" border="0" /></a> </p> <p><font face="Bradley Hand ITC"> <font color="#008000" size="4">My friend Kathy, whom I’ve known since we were 3, invited me to her parents re-wedding. They’ve been married 20 years, which is as long as I’ve been alive.</font></font></p> <p><font face="Bradley Hand ITC" color="#008000" size="4"> It was fun going to the re-wedding. Angie and Calvin were more of a second family and I spent all my free time at their house next door, up until I was 7.</font></p> <p><font face="Bradley Hand ITC" color="#008000" size="4">They wedding ceremony was okay, Alex wouldn’t sit still and be quiet. (which made Stephen realize we will NEVER become Catholic) Angie looked absolutely gorgeous! As for Calvin.. well I’ll get there.  The reception was great too. Good food, drunk people, dancing, and smoke breaks. What more can you ask for?</font></p> <p><font face="Bradley Hand ITC" color="#008000" size="4"></font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Bradley Hand ITC" color="#008000" size="4">Here is my story of knowing Angie and Calvin</font></p> <p align="center"><font face="Bradley Hand ITC" color="#008000" size="4"></font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Bradley Hand ITC" color="#008000" size="4">When I was 2 years old, my parents moved into my uncles rent house in Tulsa. This house happened to be next door to a young couple with a girl 6 months younger than me. Enter Kathy.</font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Bradley Hand ITC" color="#008000" size="4">We grew up together, we spent every waking moment together when we weren’t in school. (which i never understood why we didn’t go to the SAME school considering we were in the same grade and lived next door) anyways, I never liked her dad, Calvin. No reason at all, I just didn’t. My mom and Angie both say that i could hear his truck coming a mile away and would run inside and hide when he was coming home from work. I only have a couple memories of being scared of him but both times he was getting ready to mow. </font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Bradley Hand ITC" color="#008000" size="4"> Still to this day I don’t really like him. He weirds me out. He has this way of “looking” at me that is creepy. It’s like one of those nasty, drunk, Mexican men you run into at the fair. My son doesn’t like him either so now I’m not the only one..</font></p> <p align="left"><font face="Bradley Hand ITC" color="#008000" size="4">Back to the story.  When I was 7 years old, and i still remember EXACTLY what I was doing when I was told, my parents said they were getting a divorce. And while my dad stayed in the house, me and my mom moved to the other side of Tulsa. Not long after that Kathy’s family moved to Bristow, Ok with my aunt and uncle (the same people that we were renting from) and have been there ever since (minus my aunt and uncle). She has lived in Bristow since she was 8 while i moved around about 5 more times. All the while growing farther and farther apart from her. I was jealous of her. I wanted to be her with her family that’s still together. I hated that she moved on so easily while it tore me up and i still do. I want to be her best friend again. I want to see her and talk to her more than twice a month. I want to be more to her than a number in her phone. Or someone she texts randomly when she’s bored. It cant go back to when we were 4 singing Billy Ray in my driveway but I wish it could. Not even because everything was easy and fun, but because I’d have my best friend back. I’ve always considered her my “best friend”, even when we weren’t in close contact. I’ll always see her as that while I’m just her “friend Tiffany”</font></p> <p align="left"> </p> <p align="left"><font color="#ffff00" size="3">Ok, I’ve done enough crying in this post. It was supposed to be a joyous post about Angie and Calvin’s wedding. </font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#ffff00" size="3"><u>Congratulations Angie and Calvin,</u></font></p> <p align="center"><font color="#ffff00" size="3"><u>I love you and WISH you 20 more years.</u></font></p> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-84918298495826799352009-03-21T13:07:00.003-05:002009-03-21T13:25:05.113-05:00This past week<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);">Monday Stephen started his new job. which kind of sucks because he works 10 hour days, so he doesnt get home until 6pm.<br /><br />My birthday was tuesday. it was alright. my sister-in-law took me to the casino and i got 5 dollars free play and a free tshirt. then i went to his parents and ate cake.<br /><br />Wednesday i had a stupid doctors appointment to make sure my kidney infection was gone. it is but i had blood in my urine. GREAT! im never well, ive grown to accept it<br /><br />Thursday was Seths birthday.. 22. damn. ive known him since he was 15. i tried calling him but i should have known not to call him because he rarely answers.<br /><br />Friday i spend the ENTIRE day in tulsa cause my dad needed something welded for his work. my uncle paid my husband 300 dollars for an 8 hour day. SWEET SHIT!<br /><br />Todays saturday.. im at my in-laws again, and my mother-in-law is starting to irritate me. my oldest sister-in-law pisses me off and she thinks shes always right. not to mention the BS she puts my niece through. but GOD FORBID anyone say anything about her. i got into a little argument about it this morning. oh fucking well<br /><br />hopefully tomorrow will start off a better week but i have a feeling its not going to<br /></span></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-7080797744738403602009-03-06T11:57:00.003-06:002009-03-06T12:04:47.553-06:00Broken<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" >I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > I keep your photograph; I know it serves me well</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > I wanna hold you high and steal your pain</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > (Both amy lee and seether)</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > And I don't feel right when you're gone away</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > You've gone away... </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > You don't feel me here... </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > Anymore... </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > (Amy lee)</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > The worst is over now and we can breathe again</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > I wanna hold you high and steal your pain</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > (Both)</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > 'Cause I'm broken when I'm open</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > And I don't feel like I am strong enough</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > And I don't feel right when you're gone away</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > 'Cause I'm broken when I'm open</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > And I don't feel like I am strong enough</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > And I don't feel right when you're gone away</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > And I don't feel right when you're gone</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > You've gone away... </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > You don't feel me here... </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" > Anymore...</span> <br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-62890661024521117662009-02-23T04:30:00.001-06:002009-03-06T10:57:45.059-06:00OMG<span style="font-size:85%;">so scanning and uploading pictures at 2 am is a PAIN IN THE ASS! especially since ive been at it since before 11pm!<br /><br />this shit WILL get done before noon tomorrow or imma throw the damn scanner out the window. okay, maybe not cause i had to borrow my mother in laws printer cause im cheap and didnt buy one with a scanner. and i REALLY dont wanna have to replace a window. but if its not done, ill OPEN the window and throw something fairly cheap and unimportant out of it! yes i believe thats what ill do. sounds like a good plan.<br />now if only someone i disliked was outside in front of said window and the cheat unimportant thing was hard... like a rock. or pair of scissors.. or better yet, a bullet. although, and i havent tested this, i dont think throwing a bullet out of a window will hurt anyone. damn.<br />but back to the subject, THIS IS SUCH FUCKING BULLSHIT. and my back hurts from constantly switching out photos. i think ill only do a few and wait a few days until my back feels better to do the rest.. that ALSO sounds like a good idea. i should stay up late all the time cause i get good ideas when i do. but im REALLY tired the next day<br />thats the thing about kids. especially mine. they dont care what time you go to bed, they still stick to their schedule.<br /><br />take for instance last night. alex WOULD NOT for the life of him, me, or anything holy, go to sleep. we put him down at 10 and he didnt go to sleep until 3am. </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >3AM!</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> and i thought "hey he finally went to sleep. what time is it? 3am?!?! well at least hell sleep in in the morning" well guess what.. HE DIDNT SLEEP IN. the little turd was wide awake and chipper at 830 this morning. but i guess he coulda been wide awake and cranky from only getting 5 1/2 hours sleep. HOLY SHIT, 5 1/2 hours? im fucking tired now. i hadnt realized thats all i had slept.<br /><br />but i gotta do this shit so imma stop typing and finish these damn pictures so i can sleep.. but ill only get 5 hrs again.. maybe my husband will be nice and let me sleep in tomorrow. ill have to wake him up and ask him when i go to bed. haha</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-2730015390756922872007-02-27T16:34:00.000-06:002009-02-27T17:01:12.090-06:00I've LearnedI've learned that you cannot make someone love you.<br /> All you can do is be someone who can be loved.<br /> The rest is up to them.<br /> <span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >I've learned that no matter how much I care,<br /> some people just don't care back.</span><br /> And it's not the end of the world.<br /> I've learned that it takes years to build up trust,<br /> and only seconds to destroy it.<br /> I've learned that it's not what you have in your life,<br /> but who you have in your life that counts.<br /> I've learned that you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes.<br />After that, you'd better know something.<br /> I've learned that you shouldn't compare yourself to the best others can do,<br /> but to the best you can do.<br /> I've learned that it's not what happens to people,<br /> It's what they do about it.<br /> I've learned that no matter how thin you slice it,<br /> there are always two sides.<br /> <span style="font-weight: bold;">I've learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /> It may be the last time you see them.</span><br />I've learned that you can keep going<br />long after you think you can't.<br /> I've learned that heroes are the people who do what has to be done<br />When it needs to be done regardless of the consequences.<br />I've learned that there are people who love you dearly,<br />but just don't know how to show it.<br />I've learned that sometimes when I'm angry <span style="font-weight: bold;">I have the right to be angry</span>,<br />but that doesn't five me the right to be cruel.<br />I've learned that true friendship continues to grow even over the longest distance.<br />Same goes for true love.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >I've learned that just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to<br />doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have.</span><br /> I've learned that no matter how good a friend is,<br />they're going to hurt you every once in a while<br />and you must forgive them for that.<br />I've learned that it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others.<br />Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I've learned that no matter how bad your heart is broken,</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">the world doesn't stop for your grief.</span><br />I've learned that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >I've learned that just because two people argue, it doesn't mean that they don't love each other.<br />And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.</span><br /> I've learned that sometimes you have to put the individual ahead of their actions.<br />I've learned that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.<br />I've learned that no matter the consequences,<br />those who are honest with themselves get farther in life.<br />I've learned taht your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don't even know you.<br />I've learned that even when you think you have no more to give,<br />when a friend cries out to you,<br />you will find the strength to help.<br /> I've learned that writing, as well as talking,<br />can ease emotional pains.<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I've learned that the people you care most about in life </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">are taken from you too soon.</span><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >I've learned that it's hard to determine where to draw the line between<br />being nice and not hurting people's feelings and standing up for what<br />you believe.</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span> <span style="font-size:78%;">I've learned to love<br />and be loved.<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">-</span></span>Omer B. Washington<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8404939258043548792.post-1941749093620566412007-01-27T16:37:00.000-06:002009-02-27T16:38:01.075-06:00LMAOIf my last name was Cereal, I'd become a serial killer killing only my relatives...<br />Then I'd b known as the Cereal Serial Killer<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript">
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<script src="http://digg.com/tools/diggthis.js" type="text/javascript"></script></div>Tiffanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08908042517254742490noreply@blogger.com0