Life Under Construction

March 18, 2013 | 04:38 PM | 2 notes

Where my mind is lately… I’m not quite sure.

Dear Tumblr Followers,

I’m not sure if I’ve hit a plateau or what, but I think I’m losing sight of the rising sun.  I haven’t written in a while because frankly, I just haven’t had anything to say that I feel people would find interesting.  No strings have been tugged on my heart, no turmoil in my mind.  I am afraid of my future still but I doubt that will change until I figure out what to do with my life.  I feel bad for not writing in over a month.  Last thing I wrote was that I was going to stop drinking and I did for about a month.  It really did help me pull myself together but for some reason my mind doesn’t want to be creative.  It doesn’t want to write.  So I’m writing this now to let you all know I’m still here and I have not forgotten you.    

Love,

Tiffany

March 18, 2013 | 04:26 PM |
Keeping life classy. One drunken stumble at a time. #classy #doubletrouble #red #redlipstick #mydrunklove #instalove #instahappy #singleladies #23

Keeping life classy. One drunken stumble at a time. #classy #doubletrouble #red #redlipstick #mydrunklove #instalove #instahappy #singleladies #23

February 11, 2013 | 05:53 PM |

The Day After Drinking Resolution

After last night, I have come to the conclusion that I will not be drinking for a while.  If there is one thing I’ve learned about drinking (or whatever else you might do to have fun), you should not drink if you have personal issues going on.  Whether it is just personal issues in your head and nobody else can tell, or things that maybe everyone and their mothers knows about, you should only drink to heighten happiness, never to create it.   And in all honesty, I was not drinking to create happiness this weekend.  I am almost always an extremely happy, excited, and pretty eccentric person.  What I didn’t realize was how severe my loneliness has gotten.  I’ve been single for about 10 months now and have only recently started to feel lonely..  AND NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU MIGHT HIDE YOUR PROBLEMS FROM THE WORLD… there is no hiding them when you’re drunk.  Now if you’re talented like me, you can probably keep yourself together for a while when drunk.  Well, I was drunk for 3 days straight and that’s where my skills hit a pathetic brick wall.

 Day 1

I was pretty damn good! Drunk and loving it! I got wasted for my best friend Kristen’s birthday at my favorite bar in South Tampa called Hyde Park Café.  Then we went bar hopping and I just had a grand ol’ time.  I didn’t make it home that night; I didn’t want to be alone…

Day 2

Hangover from hell! Was in bed sleeping till 5:30pm when my friend Michelle texts me to get up because we’re going to go to the Gasparilla Night Parade.  Well we couldn’t find parking so instead I end up in South Tampa again! This time we started off at the Lodge.  We got there at about 9pm and got food and drinks before the bar scene crowd started pouring in.  You could tell when the Lodge was going through the night life transition because suddenly you see more people standing than sitting, the music gets substantially louder, and the final touch is the Go-Go dancer that comes out on the high rise.  We stayed at the Lodge then went to MacDinton’s with some friends and Mangroves after that.  While I  wasn’t wasted or even really drunk, I was definitely good.  Michelle and I ended up having to take care of our friend Anna, which was fine, I didn’t mind.  Michelle then stayed the night.  All in all, it was a pretty good night.

Day 3

Pool day.  Anna is such a trooper after her escapades the night before.  We go out to my pool and get pretty wasted.  Very fun day.  Night comes and we get food.  Anna leaves, my roommate and her friends leave, and before everyone is completely gone, I try to get someone, anyone, to come over.  Trying to think in my mind and narrow down possible applicants, I realize pretty much none of them will work to my liking.  Honestly, I wanted to cuddle the fuck out of someone! But in my mind, even when drunk, not many people fit the bill for what I want.

1) If they come over they can’t expect sex.

2) I don’t want anyone who would think that this is anything special or to expect more from it.

3) I don’t want someone who if I lost as a friend, would hurt me emotionally.

4) I don’t want to ask and seem desperate.

Not many people fit…

  I was texting a friend and the moment I texted about cuddling, all text conversations deceased.  I had just been completely shut down.  Suddenly, everything I had been hiding away from the world for the last few months starts bubbling out of me and I can’t help it anymore.  I am completely and utterly alone, crying in my room, dying inside from the lack of testosterone attention I’ve received for the last 8 months (NONE).  Sad, pathetic, alone, pissed, and eating a box of Godiva chocolates, I cave.  I send my ex-b oyfriend Madon*  (whom I haven’t said a single word to in over 6 months and is listed under Dumb Fuck in my phone) a text from my new phone number. 

Truthfully, I couldn’t care less about Madon.  I don’t miss him, love him, or even like him whatsoever anymore.  What I DO miss is how we were, how stupid we were together, the special relationship that I had with a person.  Our relationship was mix of tragic punk rock songs and the movie The Notebook.  It was just the fact that such a relation existed in my life that made me miss its existence.  And while I thought of all the pissed off things I could say to him for what he did to me back then, the only thing I could type out on my phone was… “I hope you get everything you ever wanted.”  That’s all I could say. He later texted back, “hey, who is this.” No reply obviously.  I’d be shocked if it even momentarily crossed his mind that it could be me. 

Then, I picked up my computer, and wrote out the rant that I most desperately needed to say, and posted it to tumblr.  All this just because I miss being special to someone.  So, until I have moved passed this loneliness that has fallen upon me, I will not be drinking.  I do not need a repeat of last night.  I don’t like breaking down.

February 10, 2013 | 11:00 PM | 3 notes

The Intoxicated Heart

I’ve mentioned before that I have a very hard  time telling people how I feel.  It really is one of the most difficult things for me to do.  So while I write this blog in a state of intoxication, I’m hoping that I’ll be able to say the things that I don’t normally say aloud.

1)   I AM SO FUCKING TIRED OF BEING MY OWN ROCK!

I have always had to be strong for myself and sometimes I don’t want to be strong! Sometimes I want to be weak and break down and rely on someone else to be my rock!  Being the only child of two military parents, I’ve had to be the independent, self-sufficient rock that can handle it all.  I miss the day when I had someone to hold on to when being strong wasn’t obtainable.  Well.. . it always was, I just didn’t have to be that person.

2)   SOMETIMES I JUST WANT A MAN!

I do not want to hold on to a girl when I feel weak.  I want to hold on to a man even if just to cuddle and be lied to being told that everything will work out, everything will turn out just right.  I just want to be held sometimes, even if it is just a lie.

3)   I DON’T KNOW WHO TO TALK TOO!

This isn’t normal… maybe that’s why I write, because I don’t know who to talk too.  I don’t like people seeing me weak or crying which makes it even harder for me to confide in others. It’s not like anyone would accept it or even try to make me feel better.  I was shown that tonight. 

People are cruel and heartless and I can’t even begin to tell anyone how I truly feel. I miss the days when a Friday night was spent inside watching a movie with someone special.

February 07, 2013 | 09:56 PM | 2 notes
A confession that I posted onto the mobile app whisper… my pit bull Junkyard

A confession that I posted onto the mobile app whisper… my pit bull Junkyard

February 07, 2013 | 10:02 AM | 3 notes
"HEY YOU! YES, YOU! I FUCKING LOVE YOU!"

an art magazine
February 06, 2013 | 03:42 PM | 1 note

Valentine’s Day Through the Years

Being that it is February, I thought I would share my experiences and thoughts on Valentine Day.  I’ve really only had two Valentine’s Days (the last two years) and only one of them was actually good, last years.  Valentine’s Day in high school was a load of crap.  It was just a competition to see who was the most popular girl or most infatuated couple and show it off. 

The first time I ever spent Valentine’s Day with a guy was in 2011 with my ex-boyfriend Madon* who I had been with about 10 months at the time.  We had been insanely in love with one another but our relationship had started to destroy us.   We didn’t do anything special which was my fault; I didn’t want to be some cliché couple.  Maybe we should have done something special and then it could have turned out differently.  Instead, Valentine’s Day with Madon was spent bickering and arguing.  I remember crying and laying with him asking him if we we’re going to make it.  We loved each other so much and planned on marrying each other, yet a day that brought joy to other couples had left me feeling more broken than ever with the person that I was willing to give my life for.

Last year’s Valentine’s Day was random and definitely happier.  It started off with my roommate Serena giving me a dozen roses. Serena always did cute little things like that.  She’s the kind of girl that people gravitate too due to the elate energy she gives off.  Beautiful, happy, down to earth; she’s the kind of girl that people like Jack Johnson right songs about.  That day though, I had to work at the Tampa Bay Times Forum.  After work, Davity* came to my work and picked me up in his beautiful Nissan Z 350 that I loved riding in.  I had been seeing Davity for about 2 months but had such extreme commitment issues after Madon that I refused to use the word “boyfriend”.  In my warped mind, we were just spending a lot of time together, he was my guy.  Davity had brought me a single rose because he didn’t want to be cliché with a dozen overwhelming roses…sounds familiar right?  Davity was one the funniest guys I’d ever met.  When I told him that Serena had bought be a dozen roses, he jokingly freaked out and declared that he WOULD get me more roses than her!

  I didn’t get off work till about 10:30pm and driving anywhere would probably have meant we wouldn’t make it to a place in time to eat, so we just parked around my work and walked over to Channelside and tried to find a restaurant that might still be open.  We ended up at a cute little tapas restaurant where we shared small dishes and were the only people on their patio enjoying the night.  He pulled off Valentine’s Day in a classic beautiful way that I never expected.  Davity and Serena managed to bring happiness to a day I never really enjoyed.

February 04, 2013 | 11:35 AM | 2 notes

Silly Drunk Girl

I’m not exactly the kind of person that likes to tell people how I feel.  Mostly I just let the way I feel linger inside.  There are three reasons for this: 1) I don’t particularly like telling people how I feel, 2) I don’t have a way with words when it comes to talking, and 3) I don’t feel like most people care how I feel.  A lot of times when I talk I’ll stumble and stutter and repeat whole sentences over and over trying to get it right.  I also don’t like telling people things that will hurt their feelings, even if that person wasn’t all that nice to me.  There is really only one exception that changes this completely: when I’m drunk and angry.

                Now when I’m drunk, I’m usually the happiest person ever.  It’s a rarity to ever see me mad.   I’m the friendly drunk that is totally up to do just about anything fun and very courteous to people and all that jazz.  Well yesterday, I went to the Jacuzzi with my roommate and we were drinking and pretty drunk.  I had my phone and speakers blasting music for people there.  Someone had switched my phone and put a different phone’s music on and I didn’t think anything of it because I could still see my phone.  When we left, I just packed my stuff up, didn’t think to look at my phone because I was drunk.  Once I got home, I realized that one of the people at the pool had smashed my phone! The screen was cracked in such a way that it actually broke the entire phone to the point that it didn’t even turn on.  I was so pissed and drunk I couldn’t contain it.  My phone is used for work, to keep in contact with my bosses, and as my alarm to wake up.  The social aspects of it don’t even compare to how much I need it for work.  I couldn’t believe that someone had destroyed my phone that had had an otter case on it.  So, because I was drunk, I went on a pissed off bitch fit.  I don’t have many of these but when I do… they’re pretty monumental.  I say/do things that I normally never would. 

Last night, I sent my blog to the guy that my previous posting was about during the SuperBowl.  He read my post “My Sex (Part One)” and I finally made clear to him everything I never could say to him.  His reaction wasn’t one of anguish.  He was more understanding than I thought he would be.  Sending that post to him would have never happened had I been sober.  Along with that, I also told off other people and was a complete bitch to my roommate.  That is really the only thing I truly feel sorry about, that I was so cruel to my roommate Sammy.    I don’t really remember what I said; I just know it wasn’t right.  We all have our days and I know that it doesn’t make up for what I did.  So when I leave work this evening, I’ll hit up Dunkin’ Donuts and buy her some of those new Brownie Batter donuts we love so much and apologize again for what I did.  Nothing says sorry like brownie batter.

February 03, 2013 | 09:33 PM |
"Sometimes, I wish being real with the world didn’t mean burning bridges."
January 31, 2013 | 03:40 PM | 1 note

My Sex (Part 1: The Foundation)

               Sex is such a weird concept to me.  Yes it’s a simple and fun activity, but the way I feel about sex has changed so much since I first lost my virginity at 18 years old.  I didn’t lose it the special way that every girl dreams of; in love, with someone that cares about them.  Instead, I lost it to the pressures of a school that idolized sex as some amazing entity that was believed to crown you into royalty.  But, I can’t say I didn’t get what I wished for.  When I was a sophomore in high school I met this guy who was dating a girl who was sort of my friend, let’s call him Matt.  Matt was the golden boy at our school: perfect grades, top of his class, soccer player, track star, funny, cute, sweet, a year older, and ended up getting a full ride to a private college in Florida.  I felt awful for liking my friend’s boyfriend but they didn’t last and my friendship with her wasn’t strong so we didn’t stay in touch.  But I remember hanging out with him before school would start and cherishing every moment with him.   I used to wish in my mind over and over that he’d be the one, the first.  He’d be perfect.  Ha… well boys and girls, be very careful what you wish for.  Fast forward 2 years and what do you know? He was my first, just not the way I ever imagined it. 

                It was 4 days before my 18th birthday.  I was a senior in high school and he was a first year college student back for the first time for Thanksgiving break.  It was a déjà vu moment that had him and I in his car on the same desolate street on Summerland Key just like the previous year.  The year before,  (my junior his senior year) we had gone to that exact same place and streaked down the road for no apparent reason.  At that time I wasn’t so worn down.   This time, my strength had been whittled down and my self-worth practically nonexistent.  Thoughts of love had been replaced with, “who could ever love me?”  So I gave in, in a car, on an empty street, on Summerland Key, to a guy that I had on a pedestal but had no real feelings for me and had lost his golden glow.  Key West had finally broken me and he was no longer the golden boy I knew.

                 He wasn’t special anymore…

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