Robin at PENSIEVE is this week's hostess, and her assignment was to: "Pull out your old photo albums and find your WORST BAD HAIR DAY." Wow...that's a tough one! There were two I was torn between, so you get the privilege of seeing them both. Along with BONUS material: flagrantly bucked-teeth. Here I am early on in life, when it was extremely easy to tell that I was adopted. (Either that, or my mother was the talk of the neighborhood, for having an "off-color" child.) My mother is bathing me, and my hair is in its most unmanageable stage - curly, kinky, in an afro. I can only imagine how my mother tried to tame the mane until it grew long enough to put in pigtails. However, I was really hip with this '70s look.
I think my mother was so worried about returning to this stage that she never again cut my hair. It grew exceedingly long, as you can tell from this photo: This was taken while I was in the fourth grade, only a few months before my hair was chopped off to shoulder-length, a story I've shared previously. My mom used to unbraid my hair every night for washing, and then we would rebraid it in the morning before See those yarn ribbons? They were a staple at the top of the looped braid.
I almost didn't post this photo, due to the HORRIBLY offensive teeth. I had four permanent ones yanked so that the orthodontist could fit the rest of them into my mouth. My palate had also become misshapen due to years of thumb-sucking, probably related to my early abandonment. Thank goodness for $3,000 worth of braces that allows me to smile without scaring folks too terribly.
There you have it! Now I have to go check out all the rest of the hair disasters. (Oh, and in case you're wondering, one reason I don't have anything worse to display is because 1) I've NEVER had a perm - for obvious reasons, and 2) I've never had my hair colored - EVER.)
Before I left for D.C., I was told it had one of the best transit systems in the country. They don't allow any food, drink or smoking in their Metro stations, which keeps things clean. I know this photo is fuzzy, but here you can see how many folks commute during the 5 o'clock rush hour on the Metrorail. This was taken at Metro Center, where three separate lines meet.
Early in our trip, my traveling buddy, KM, had seen a homeless man scouring the trash for food. I had literally overlooked him, having reverted back to my "city ways." I learned growing up on the outskirts of Houston that you don't engage the bums - no eye contact, no looks of pity, no offerings of help. KM felt horribly sad for his plight and amazed that he would actually eat leftovers from the trash. My response must have seemed harsh: "Don't give him any money, because he'll just buy booze with it." During our walk to the hotel each evening, KM would point out these poor souls as they bedded down. The impressions of their bodies would remain visible in the grass each morning. One indigent fellow changed her perspective, however, as we boarded the Metro on our way to a mall in Pentagon City one evening. While waiting for the Metro to leave, we hear loud expletives. Every other word is the f-bomb or some maternal variation thereof. Luckily for us, the offender boards our car...spilling the contents of his trash bags all over the floor - RIGHT IN FRONT OF US. I play nonchalant - looking straight ahead, emotionless. KM's eyes widen, and she whispers, "We need to get off NOW."
As batteries, vials of liquid and cigar tips roll around near our feet, F-Bomber is still cursing a blue-streak, interjecting the statement, "DON'T YOU BE LOOKIN' AT MY M*****-F***IN' BATTERIES!! YOU WANNA F***IN' START SOMETHIN'? I'LL START SOMETHIN' RIGHT THE F*** HERE, M***** F***ER!!" I'm still playing it cool, as the train pulls away and F-Bomber decides to return to our area of the car to retrieve his m*****-f***in' batteries that KM is DEFINITELY not looking at. She and I both are statues as he bends down to pick them up, giving us a final "DON'T YOU BE LOOKING AT MY M*****-F***IN' BATTERIES!!" before returning to his seat. KM is whispering that WE NEED TO GET OFF AT THE NEXT STOP, and I'm trying to convince her to play it cool - as I'm realizing that F-Bomber is not really talking to anyone but the voices in his head. The screaming expletives are continuous, and I faintly hear the sound of the Metro driver call for Metro Police to meet us at the next station. As we are about to stop, KM jumps up, ready to bolt the second the doors open. I notice two other passengers ready to exit, and watch as they simply get off the car and onto the adjacent car to continue their trip. We follow suit, and sit where we are facing the car containing F-Bomber. KM is concerned that he will see us, realize we avoided him, and come back there to finish us off. We both notice a poor young girl, seated right in front of F-Bomber, still enduring the expletive rant that is also audible in OUR car. Of course, we reach our destination, and F-Bomber gets off as well. Luckily, Metro Police have been observing him, and detain him for a quick search and questioning. I'm not sure what they did with this man - after all, do they really have jails full of guys like this? Probably not.
The next day, KM seems relieved that we have lived thru the experience and is actually hoping for another glimpse of F-Bomber. We never did run into him again, but did see this lovely creature outside Union Station, pictured above. (I didn't take these photos of bums - that's another rule of mine.)
And, don't be lookin' at my m*****-f***in' batteries.
How could I NOT participate when the host is a blogger named the Ice Cream Mama? She's an easy gal, and I don't mean that in a nappy-headed 'ho kinda way. She's assigned us QUESTIONS...which are always a snap for me. I either go for the truth, or total shock value, or both - which is usually as close to the truth of Tiggerlane as you can get. So...strap on your boots, here we go!
What is your favorite word? Love. (Can you see me sighing and grinning right now?)
What is your least favorite word? Smegma.
What turns you on (creatively, spiritually or emotionally)? MUSIC. Kisses. Truth. Passion. Intelligence. Laughter. Dang, were we supposed to do that in order?
What turns you off? Smegma. And horrible smells.
What is your favorite curse word? The f-bomb.
What sound or noise do you love? Vocal harmonies, blended into a symphony of voices. The sound of my daughter's laughter.
What sound or noise do you hate? Okay....the absolute WORST and most HIDEOUS thing....ugh. I can barely type. You know that kinda noise that makes your insides all congregate at your bellybutton? That sick, pointed type of auditory convulsion that somehow involves a connection between the ear and intestines? For me, that would be the sound of a pencil with a COMPLETELY WORN DOWN ERASER, attempting to erase.
Excuse me, while I go barf.
What profession, other than your own, would you like to attempt? Attempt? Uh...not attempt. SUCCEED at: Broadway performer.
What profession would you not like to attempt? Mortician.
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? "Come on in, your friends and family are all here."
So, back to more about my trip! In case you didn't know, there are several "areas" of D.C., one of which is Foggy Bottom. This is where our hotel was located, on the Potomac River, on the West side of town. This is a historic district, with lots of "rowhouses," like those pictured here. Foggy Bottom is also home to The George Washington University, and I was pleased that it meant we were also close to their Medical Center. During our "Monuments at Moonlight" trolley tour, one of the passengers fell and hit the pavement in front of the Lincoln Monument. As he was reboarding the trolley, he had blood streaming down his face and a goose-egg-sized hematoma sprouting on his forehead. Our trolley driver took a quick detour to the hospital, and delivered him to the emergency room.
Each day, my buddy and I would walk from the Watergate Hotel to the Foggy Bottom Metro Station, which was just a few blocks away, nestled in between the university and the medical center. We always met college students and young medical students, and some pretty hot young doctors! But even more fascinating were the rowhouses. They had tiny little lawns, no bigger than 3 ft x 3 ft in most cases. I was also surprised that most folks in the area had dogs, judging by all the barking we heard as we passed by. I wondered what it would be like to live in a house like this - stacked up three stories, with neighbors right next to me. I hadn't lived like this since my college dormitory days. I also can't imagine living like that again, seeing as I feel cramped on our 66' x 150' lot and my excitement about our new house to be built on 2 1/2 acres. I joked to my friend that the yards were so tiny that residents would only have to use scissors to cut their grass. No room for lawnmowers! Well, the very next day - guess what we saw?!?!?!?
Yup! Can you see them? I snuck this photograph, b/c I honestly couldn't believe what I was seeing. This lady had no clue that I was spying and giggling, all at the same time.
Here's a close-up of her hand, just to prove it. Crazy, huh? I still think my husband would want a new weedeater for this task.
Here it is, another Fun Monday! Amy W is hosting this week, and her assignment was to "find something in your closet you are keeping for some ungodly reason (the sweatshirt with all the holes, the jeans your kids used as a drawing table with markers, the shirt with the stain you only hope no one notices) take a picture of it and tell us why you are keeping it and how it got that way." Well, just in time for Easter, here is my item: Yes, this is indeed a rabbit fur coat. Now, back in the '80s, this was THE THING to have. I begged and begged for this coat. I finally convinced my parents to purchase it for me during my Senior year of high school. I was SO PROUD! Here I am, wearing it for a photo in my Senior yearbook. Can you see my glee? I've had it all these years - 21 to be exact, and just can't bear to get rid of it. Not too many years after I had been sporting it to every event imaginable, I found out the horribly cruel process involved in raising and slaughtering the many rabbits it takes to make just one coat. I was mortified, and I've never worn real fur since.
I'm not sure why I still have it - but I can't seem to get rid of it and promote the donning of fur as acceptable. I'm not a tree-hugger or anything, but knowing what I know now - I just can't in good faith wear it again. And yes, it still fits.
So it sits in the back of my closest, a cruel testimony to what a young girl is willing to put the Easter Bunny through - just to have the "it" item of the year.
Some smart folks out there! Yes, indeed, the quotes I posted last were from the World War II Memorial. This is a photo of the memorial, featuring a wreath laid by the group with which my daughter was traveling. My friend and I made it to these memorials much later in the day than the kids and were touched to see their wreaths, everywhere we went.I have FINALLY posted all the photos from our trip. Well, all the ones really worth looking at, for now. Amber took more photos that I haven't been able to upload yet - mostly of her trips to Gettysburg and Jamestown-Colonial Williamsburg. I have to consult with her first before getting accurate descriptions.
I was honored that two of our photos were chosen to be part of this flickr group. I immediately started crying at the Vietnam Memorial. I didn't expect my reaction - I was overwhelmed by the raw emotion that poured forth when I realized just how many lives were changed and ended forever by that war. You hear numbers of fatalities in excess of 58,000, but it's not the same as seeing the thousands of names on The Wall.
I just can't post all our photos on this blog, or I would blog about D.C. for an entire year. So check out the entire set here.
Folks, let me apologize for leaving you all hanging about my trip. I TOTALLY forgot that I had an EPA inspector coming to the orifice yesterday, so not only am I behind at work, but I have had extra stress. I'm not sure I can even tell you what day it is. However, I've GOT to start sharing or you'll be hearing about this trip in the wintertime. I have two very important suggestions if you plan to go to D.C. and have never been. First, talk to Swampwitch. Her tips proved invaluable during my stay. Secondly, buy this book. My traveling companion giggled at me for getting this the day before we arrived, but it was a great resource and saved us lots of headaches and wrong turns. Causing the local folks some giggles was the sight of us getting from Dulles into Downtown DC on a BUS, for heavens' sake, then using the Metro to get to our hotel in Foggy Bottom. All while hauling our massive luggage around like a couple of country bumpkins. RED and BLUE luggage. Not the requisite BLACK luggage that all those cool city folks use. Here is a photo of our view from the Watergate Hotel, which overlooks the Potomac River. It was a bit cloudy that Monday, but we thoroughly enjoyed watching all the joggers, pinickers, rowers, dog-walkers, and bums from our little perch. This photo may not seem like much, but during our first full day in D.C., we were only off the Metro for FIVE MINUTES when we hear sirens. Lots of 'em. And being from the country? Well, that can only mean one thing. An accident! And here we were, without police scanners in hand. So, we notice a whole caravan of motorcycle cops, NOT equipped to save lives, and realize...wait...who could this be? Now I'm not one to get all giddy about our Commander in Chief, but I snapped this shot as his motorcade drove right past us. I left this photo large so you could click on it and try to pick him out. Which one do you think he is?? (BTW, at this point, I felt like a total tourist, and made attempts later in the trip to blend in.)
We visited a few more sites - and here is your test. Washington D.C. is full of memorials, monuments, and all sorts of quotes and phrases. Which of you knows where this quote is emblazened?
Give up? Okay...for those of you who have never visited the city, here is another clue - a quote from the SAME GENERAL LOCATION.
And Matt, I really don't think it would be fair for you to participate. But then again, I don't figure you for a historical guy...so if you're clueless, I'll allow you a guess. Answers next time!
I'll be visiting your blogs tonight and tomorrow, trying to get caught up!
Yes, I made it back with The Offspring, all her body parts, and all our luggage. I am still recuperating from the trip, and trying to catch up on work. Plus, I have major allergies from the explosion of cherry blossoms - but oh, the trip was so magnificent. I have much to share. For now, here is a photo taken by The Offspring, for you to enjoy:
I wanted to participate in the Fun Monday assignment, but with my trip to D.C. starting tomorrow, I just don't have time to flesh out what my "perfect world" would entail. Love and understanding - yeah, but how interesting would a world be without conflict? I DO know that each and every day MUST include music, and appropriately, I've been tagged by Claudia - definitely sealing my spot as the slowest runner in the blogosphere. But this is harder than most, b/c I'm supposed to "come up with 7 songs I am currently enjoying." Like Claudia, I'm thinking ONLY SEVEN?!?!? Tough for a musical junkie!
(As you can tell, there are NINE songs on here as of late - so I failed another assignment.)
But what better way to leave you before I go on my blogging vacation? If you take time to check out all seven offerings, one per day - you won't even realize Tiggerlane is gone.
The first offering is typical "pop," introduced to me by The Offspring. It has a horribly catchy melody, and I was cursing her for an entire day at work b/c I was singing it to myself incessantly. It's a little naughty, and the first people that came to mind when I heard this song were Matt and Matt. The song is performed by Say Anything, and the title is "Wow, I Can Get Sexual, Too."
Lily Allen is one of my new favorites, and another discovery by The Offspring. This is the title track from her album "LDN," and this song makes me just want to bounce around the living room like a perky sprite.
If you read this post, then you already are familiar with this song. It's by Hellogoodbye, the band I'm currently obsessing over, as you can see from my new musical section in the right hand column. (Major thanks go out to Dan for being patient with The Neophyte and making that section possible!) The title is "Here in Your Arms." It reminds me of the more innocent days, when making out as a teenager was like the most AWESOME thing EVER!
Lenny Kravitz is one of my favorite musicians, and this track from the movie "Blue Crush" is entitled "If I Could Fall in Love Again." Lenny is sexy as hell, by the way.
Bloodhound Gang's members are actual friends of the boys from Jackass, and this is one of their tamer videos, "Uhn Tiss Uhn Tiss Uhn Tiss." I think I've been in this club.
You may not have heard of Shiny Toy Guns, but I spin this track at least four times a week. Driving rock mixed with techno, with a beat you can dance to, here is "Le Disko."
Lucky number seven is another group discovered by The Offspring, called Mindless Self Indulgence. She says I'm totally uncool for saying their name, b/c they are known to her as merely "MSI." The video for "Straight to Video" is a little odd, especially since I've never before seen a male blow-up doll. However, it's a good song.
Many of you will be surprised that I didn't include anything by Prince - my favorite artist of all time. He hasn't released anything in the last month, or it would be my current obsession. If you haven't picked up anything since his purple days, you have missed out on some great tunage.
Now, as a musician and an artist, I am compelled to keep an extremely open mind. That means putting aside judgment and taking the music and lyrics for what they are - and not being hypercritical of the message. This next song is a bonus, but it is VERY controversial. However, Nine Inch Nails has never been anything BUT controversial - and this is one of their best songs ever. I understand exactly what Trent Reznor is saying here in "Closer," but the more sensitive among you SHOULD NOT WATCH this video if you are easily offended. Or even if you are NOT easily offended. This is raw, sexual song, and some of the images are quite graphic. This is the undedited version, not seen on MTV, containing brief nudity and the f-bomb, in its literal use. However, Reznor's conflict is evident in the line, "My whole existence is flawed/You bring me closer to God." You've been warned.
That whole video reminded me of the movie "The Cell."
UPDATED SECTION: If you feel you got robbed, having to miss out on that last video b/c of content, let's see how open-minded you REALLY are. The Offspring was singing this to herself, and I about fell over. After watching it, I freakin' CRACKED UP! So, yeah, I'm a sicko, after all. This is from The Whitest Kids You Know, and it's called "Hitler Rap." Enjoy.
I won't return until April 2nd and will NOT have access to a computer or email - so wish me luck in D.C.!
Many months ago, the lovely Desert Songbird tagged me in this post, and I got horribly busy and didn't respond in the time dictated by good blogger etiquette. Luckily, she is forgiving, so I'm just now completing my assignment. Better late than never!
It's been really hard to top my previous admissions of weirdness. However, the post is only supposed to be "five things about me that I haven't revealed in previous posts." If you know me, you know I'm the Queen of T.M.I. - making this assignment even more difficult. But, here goes:
1. I recently discovered that I tend to hold my breath while taking a shower. Most likely due to the fact that I had severe hydrophobia as a child, and still can't swim very well. I've been doing deep breathing in the shower now - so I'm not in danger of passing out and leaving a messy scene for Roger to explain to the authorities.
2. I took dance lessons all the way through college, and I still keep up with the latest moves. Wanna go clubbing?
3. I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue easily.
4. I can't stand the supercilious attitude of George W. Bush and his cronies. Seeing as I'll be in D.C. next week, it's probably not a good time to admit this - the FBI and CIA could nab me while I'm in town for making such an unpatriotic statement.
5. We have a collection of "If" books, which are books of questions - mostly fun in large party groups. The most challenging is Volume 3 - Questions in the Game of Love. These are VERY provocative queries, and I am selecting a tame answer and response, because some of my readers are a little sensitive. I was asked one time if I HAD to sleep with a celebrity of the same sex, who would I choose? There you see her, the lucky Miss Natalie Portman. Not to change the subject, but WTF is going on with American Idol? Can anyone give me a rational explanation as to WHY this talentless child is still on the show? I enjoyed Idol last year, and had never watched before then - but if this year's idiocy continues, you can count this musician OUT.
This week's assignment was particularly difficult, as we were challenged by enidd "to write a post describing a typical day in your life and give us a feel for your life as a whole." I'm warning you now that there is nothing "typical" about a day in the life of Tiggerlane. Every day is wildly different from the previous one, which is wonderful.
EVERY day MUST include music. I am a musician, and so are my husband and daughter. Thank goodness music fills my home, or I would have to take long drives, just to get my fix. You can visit my MySpace page for a sampling. Current listens include favorite bands and songs from my past, such as Ninch Inch Nails, or songs introduced to me by The Offspring, like this new one from Gym Class Heroes:
I'm also a news junkie, so each morning I have to check out Robin & Company on CNN Headline News. She is so bright and funny and perky - it gets my morning off to a great start.
Most days, I go to the orifice, but usually don't spend any time in my actual office. I also totally enjoy spending time with friends. Not a week goes by that we don't have visitors at the house, which fills it with lots of fun.
I looooooove sports. And during football season, you might as well bank on the fact that I will be watching a game, somewhere, somehow. My beautiful mutt-dog, Lucky Loo Poo Woo, gets attention from me each day...be it a long walk, or a chase, or just crashing on the couch so I can rub his belly.
I get about 150 - 200 emails a day, and NO...most of them are NOT spam. Sometimes, I find myself laughing my tail off at something like this (if you're a PETA member, please don't watch. And don't comment me with nastiness):
I also contribute a lot of time and energy to my Rotary District, and to my local Rotary club. I am extremely passionate about this part of my life, because I have been blessed with so much that I feel an incredible obligation to give to others.
The best part of every day? The time I get to spend with Roger and Amber. Our relationship is so important to me - I often wonder if I would make it without them. Each day usually ends with me being totally exhausted, which is fine by me. It means I have accomplished something, which gives me great satisfaction.
I'm no longer a chiropractic virgin! I got popped for the first time yesterday, and although I was scared, nervous and panicky - it went pretty well! I made the appointment based on advice from my massage therapist, who was amazed at the tension in my back and neck (I'm sure frequent computer use and 4-inch heels contribute to that). She made sure I had two deep tissue massages before visiting the chiropractor. During the first visit, he asked lots of questions, took many x-rays, performed several motion/reflex tests, administered a TENS unit treatment, and stretched me gently. He also gave me a solid neck-popping, after I FINALLY relaxed. I have visits scheduled during the next two weeks to fully work out all of my "kinks." I am already experiencing increased range of motion in my neck, back and arms, so SOMETHING is working. If you've had any experience with bone-crackers, fill me in.
One of my claims to fame is the ability to recite the alphabet backwards. Guess when I learned how to do it, and why? As you'll see here, it can come in handy - but you still might get popped.
It's Fun Monday time! Another assignment that Yours Truly is doomed to fail. Beccy is this week's hostess, and our assignment was to "post a recipe that would inspire me to get into the kitchen to chop, cut, grate, boil, steam, roast, chill, freeze and eat, eat, eat." Well, I've got the best inspiration of all: an alcoholic drink recipe.
Not just ANY drink, but one I weaseled out of a male waiter at Chili's. It's called the "Presidente Margarita," and here is a copy of the recipe he gave me, on the sly, after I batted my lashes and cajoled him a bit:
The Chili's shaker is a must-have for beginning this drink, which only costs $2 after you buy the drink itself. I must state as a disclaimer that anyone under the age of 21 should LOOK AWAY. NOW!
Ingredients include some pricey liquor, from left to right: Sauza Tequila, El Presidente Brandy, Cointreau, lime juice, sweet and sour mix, and ice. Step one, fill the shaker with ice: Step two, add 1 1/4 shots of Sauza: Step two and a half, (if you want to deviate from the recipe a bit, Tiggerlane-style) add a dash of the new Jose Cuervo Black: Step three, add one shot of Presidente brandy:
Step four, add 3/4 shot of Cointreau. Look at that price tag. OUCH!
Step five, add one shot of lime juice:
Step six, fill the rest of the tumbler with sweet and sour mix. And then say that four times real fast, because shortly, you will no longer be able to. Put the cute little caps back on the tumbler, and shake vigorously. Preferably over your sink, in case after your second or third drink, you lose the ability to gauge how tightly you are NOT holding said caps on tumbler:
Froth is desired, yes, indeed. Pour into glass,
and ENJOY! (FYI, in Tiggerlane's world, salt is only good for shooting tequila and making INSTANT margaritas - a recipe that requires a recliner and a lot of stupidity.)
I'm getting VERY excited! My trip to Washington D.C. is finally coming together...and sneaking up very soon. I've never been, so I'm open to any and all suggestions as to what "not to miss." Pictured to the left is the fabulous Watergate Hotel, where we will be staying. Seriously, what says "D.C." better than this place? Corruption, scandal, intrigue. I can't wait.
Swampy has already provided some great ideas, and I already know that I want to attend a show or the ballet at the Kennedy Center, visit Arlington National Cemetery, and take a tour of the Monuments by Moonlight! I don't want to cram too much into the week, and definitely want to leave a good day to check out shopping, but what would you suggest?
If you've been to D.C., or merely WANT to go in your lifetime, what would be the MUST-DO/SEE event for you?
I've thought and thought, and contrary to popular myth, I am having trouble sucking.
The High School Valedictorian and perfectionist Virgo in me are conspiring to make this Fun Monday a lesson in abject failure. Mindy's assignment is to "Write the worst opening sentence that you can come up with and accompany this atrocity with a photo of your setting, a character or a bit of action that relates to the opening line or (for those who do not have a camera) a written description of same." Uh...harder than it looks. I love writing. I love being concise and poignant and descriptive. So, I'm "tweaking" Mindy's assigment by taking some license with it. "Worst" opening sentence could also mean "most disgusting," right? Sure.
So, if you're squeamish, stop reading now. I'm serious. Look away. The sentence is coming: "Stella's arthritic hands fumbled with the colostomy bag, as she had never changed it herself outside a hospital environment; luckily, her faithful dog, Oink, was there to lick up the spillage as her bathroom floor puddled with feces."
Don't say I didn't warn you. Just be thankful I couldn't come up with a more descriptive photo.
Robin at PENSIEVE is this week's hostess, and her assignment was to: "Pull out your old photo albums and find your WORST BAD HAIR DAY." Wow...that's a tough one! There were two I was torn between, so you get the privilege of seeing them both. Along with BONUS material: flagrantly bucked-teeth.
Here I am early on in life, when it was extremely easy to tell that I was adopted. (Either that, or my mother was the talk of the neighborhood, for having an "off-color" child.) My mother is bathing me, and my hair is in its most unmanageable stage - curly, kinky, in an afro. I can only imagine how my mother tried to tame the mane until it grew long enough to put in pigtails. However, I was really hip with this '70s look. 
This was taken while I was in the fourth grade, only a few months before my hair was chopped off to shoulder-length, a story I've shared previously. My mom used to unbraid my hair every night for washing, and then we would rebraid it in the morning before See those yarn ribbons? They were a staple at the top of the looped braid.
