Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Race to Your Face

Guest blogger! Guest blogger! Guest blogger!
You know, I beg you mofos all of the time to guest blog and none of you take me seriously. I was elated last night to receive this guest blog in my inbox last night from my buddy D-Dubs, who is as nice as he is good-looking!

D-Dubs and Mister Ferguson recently struck up a friendship over a mutual love of skiing and actually just returned from Whistler on a man-cation (vacation taken by men). How weird is it when your friend circles start overlapping? All of these dudes I went to high school with and have known for years are suddenly calling Mister Ferguson to go skiing! What am I, old news? At any rate, D-Dubs is a good friend to have and I’m happy to share him with my husband.

The subject of his guest blog this evening is speed eating, something which I am guilty of myself. I think it is because I usually wait until I’m absolutely starving to eat. When it’s time for lunch, I can’t get it down fast enough. I am always jealous of those “ladies” that are able to show restraint at the lunch table—the ones that order a salad and then appear as though they could care less if it arrives or not. I care. I place my order and then twitch like a crack addict until I get my sandwich. Then, look out! I am aware that if I ate smaller meals though out the day, I wouldn’t get like this. However, I’m my own worst enemy and refuse to diet correctly. Until I get some sense, I will continue to complain on my Web site about not being at my goal weight.

The following is a guest blog by D-Dubs:

I am a notoriously fast eater. It's in my blood. My dad used to eat 6pieces of Sam's Pizza (best pizza in the world, right next to Sarris's in Canonsburg) while driving home from Sam's—approx. 4 miles. My grandfather was known to down a dozen ears of corn no problem. Being a sprinter has its drawbacks. When I was growing up, it was not uncommon for me or my sisters to have to stop in the middle of a feeding and lie on the floor and moan from abdominal distention.

Nowadays, my friends will just be getting started on dinner and my plate will be clean. While this sounds like an exaggeration, today I got quantitative evidence of my problem. At lunchtime, I drove across the hot metal bridge to get lunch at Qdoba. I got lucky and found a metered spot right in front of the door. I threw a quarter in the meter, noticing that it already had 11 minutes. The addition of my quarter made it 41 minutes. Inside there were only two people in line, nice. When it was my turn, I ordered an "Ancho Chili BBQ Burrito,” naked with chips. For those that don't frequent Qdoba, the burritos are huge, especially if you top them like I do. I paid for my food and went to the drink station. Here I have a standard routine—squeeze two lemons into my cup, add ice, then Dr. Pepper. Then I got plastic ware, napkins, and Cholula hot sauce. I sat down, dowsed my food in hot sauce, and ate.

Upon exiting I noticed there were 29 minutes left on the meter. What????? I was not in a rush, I was not late for anything, just a creature of habit. I had mixed feelings—pride for being efficient, shame of being gross. I must look like a hostage while eating.


PS—Opposites do attract because my wife is a marathon eater with stamina. I have seen her sit down with a wooden mallet in-hand and steadily and methodically consume Maryland crabs for 4 hours without rising from her chair.
For those of you who would like to see a video of D-Dubs at Qdoba, click here.

No surprise, speed eating is bad for weight loss. Some genius scientists set out to prove this by observing diners at 11 different Chinese buffet restaurants across the United States.
Their goal was to find out whether the eating behaviors of people at all-you-can-eat buffets varied based on their body mass.

Trained observers recorded the height, weight, gender, age, and behavior of 213 patrons. The various seating, serving and eating behaviors were then compared across BMI levels.

The heavier (higher BMI) patrons:
ate more quickly
chewed more food per bite
used forks
sat facing the food buffet

The thin (lower BMI) patrons:
ate more slowly
chewed less food per bite
used chopsticks
sat facing away from the food buffet

This study confirms earlier research from the University of Rhode Island published in the journal of the American Dietetic Association which found that eating slowly leads to decreases in energy intake.

Scientists even have a name for this now:
It means that the more time you take to eat, the less energy (calories) you are likely to consume. The faster you eat, the more energy (calories) you’re likely to consume.

Big shocker. I could have told you that!

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Tiddy's Shit List

I have MAJOR PMS this week. As a result, everyone and everything is managing to piss me off. Most days, I am extremely easy going and laid back. But when the red tide rises, nobody can escape Tiddy’s wrath.

In order to get even with those who have wronged me this week, I have decided to publicly shame them on my Web site for your enjoyment.

Verizon Wireless
I will be the first to admit that I am extremely hard on my phones. I don’t believe in fancy protectors and I am constantly dropping my Blackberry on the ground. Pretty much every two months I show up at the Verizon Wireless store with a broken phone. What makes me angry is that each time I have an issue, Verizon does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to resolve it. All they do is tell me no. I have NEVER heard the words, “Yes, I can help you” uttered from the lips of a Verizon sales associate. I even purposely go to different stores each time so I’m not labeled as a “crazy customer.” At this point, I am completely convinced that the company has a training course that teaches employees to only say yes to new customers, and no to existing customers.

For example, this week I showed up with a missing trackball. I dropped my phone the night before. The ball fell out and Nacho ate it (at least I think that’s what happened—I haven’t seen it since). For those of you with a Blackberry, you know that the phone is practically unusable without the trackball. I was desperate for a replacement as I could not imagine spending five minutes without my phone. Don’t judge, it’s the truth. I was confident that my problem was minor and I would finally be satisfied with the outcome of a visit to the Verizon store.

When presented with my dilemma, the sales associated hemmed and hawed for about two minutes and then said, “We don’t really repair phones here anymore. Why don’t you go on the Internet and order the part from an independent dealer?”

“Why would I do that?” I shot back. I bought the phone from you. I pay five bucks a month to you for insurance. It’s your responsibility to fix the phone or replace it. I’m not paying some other company money for a part that you should be able to get out of the back room and pop into the handset. It would take you two seconds. If you give it to me, I will do it myself.”

He just looked at me and said, “Sorry. Can’t help you this time,” and gazed longingly at the new customer checking out phones on the wall. He was getting ready to walk away when I decided to really be a jerk. “Fine,” I said. “The phone is clearly broken, so just give me a new one and I will be on my way.” He said, “Can’t do it. You will have to order one and we will mail it to you. Plus, it will cost you 50 bucks.”

I looked over at the massive pile of new Blackberries and became irate. The guy really had me by the short and curlies. He was seriously not going to do anything for me. I gave him a speech about his shitty customer service and stormed out of the store. I found some random place that repairs phones and they replaced the trackball for 10 bucks and apologized that it was so expensive. What they didn’t know is by that point, I would have paid 30. Verizon Wireless is on my shit list for only accommodating new customers and doing ZERO for existing patrons. I don’t want them to kiss my ass, I just want them to provide a marginal amount of service.

My Dry Cleaner
When it comes to errands, I’m pretty lazy and forgetful. I don’t return movies and library books on time. My dry cleaning would sit at the store for months until I ran out of clothes and had no choice to pick it up. Needless to say, when Model cleaners came knocking at my door with an offer to pick up my clothes and drop them off weekly, I jumped at the chance. Things were great for the first few months. There were clean clothes in my closet! I always had something to wear to work. I felt put together and organized. The clothes would arrive clean and packed nicely. Eventually, however, the quality of service declined dramatically. For one thing, I am missing three sweaters. I have complained about this to customer service, the guy who picks up my clothes and the corporate office. Each attempt I have made to get my sweaters back has been useless. The person on the phone promises to “look into it” and then never gets back to me.

The other problem I have with Model cleaners is that whoever is actually cleaning my clothes is a pussy. I am constantly getting them back with a note saying, “I’m too afraid to take on this stain. I don’t want to ruin the fabric.” What am I supposed to do with that? I can’t wear them with a stain. The only option is to try to get the stain out. I couldn’t do it myself so I sent it to A PROFESSIONAL. If you ruin the fabric, I’m no worse off than I was with the stain. Grow a set. Clean the pants.

My scale
Is a liar. It is spiteful and refuses to give me correct information.

Mall Kiosk WorkersI’m not sure if this only in Pittsburgh, but the kiosk workers in the mall are INSANE. The biggest offenders are the ones that sell the Dead Sea lotion, ceramic flat irons and mineral make-up. You literally cannot walk through the mall without some Latin dude or chick popping around the corner saying, “Excuse me, can I ask you a question?” or “Let me see your make-up!” or “Where do you get your hair done?”

It drives me crazy. If I want to peruse the wares in the middle of the mall, I will. I don’t need some overly aggressive cheesy sales rep accosting me during my relaxing time. I am really tired of pretending to be on my phone or taking alternate routes to stores in order to avoid these assholes. This week I got so pisssed off that I reported one of them to guest services. I don’t think they will get kicked out due to my complaint, but something had to be said. If this continues, I am going to have to take my shopping online permanently.

My Period
It was my understanding that as a female, I was to endure one week of PMS and one week of period. However, the older I get, the longer the battle with my period lasts. My PMS has extended itself to almost two weeks of weight gain, mood swings and chocolate eating. This, coupled with a week-long period leaves me with only one good week a month.

That’s enough bitching for one day. I have some cool Web sites for you guys to check out that I will include in my next blog, along with lists of favorite things compiled by my readers.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Urban Dictionary

Most days, I feel like I'm still 21. However, once in a while something happens that reminds me that I'm not as with it as I used to be. The other day, I went out for a run and realized that almost every song on my ipod that was released in the past year has the word "swagger" in it. I even saw a commercial featuring LL Cool J for a deodorant called "Old Spice Swagger." When did this word creep into the scene? Where have I been? Am I not watching enough MTV? I'm cool, right?

A couple of years ago, something happened that made me realize that there is a whole other language that I have not been privy to since I began the third decade of my life. Picture this:

My family spends Christmas in a cabin in the woods. It's awesome. We are in the middle of nowhere. Nobody has cell phone reception, there's no Internet. It's like 1994 out there! We cut down a Christmas tree, make our own ornaments and spend the holidays getting back to the simple joys of life--food, wine, games and family. We also have a lot of time on our hands. When the Soulja Boy dance came out, the whole family dedicated hours to learning all of the moves. I haven't seen such a group effort since we all learned to moonwalk. Souja Boy must have been played 200 hundred times!

We were all swollen with pride when we arrived at my Aunt Prissy's house to show off our skills. My six-year-old niece was even running though the house screaming, "Superman!" At that point, I saw my college age cousin (who I adore) smirking to himself in the corner.

I went over and asked him why he was laughing at us. "Is the Soulja Boy dance already out?" I inquired.

He said, "Do you have any idea what 'Superman' means? I'm not going to tell you. Go look it up at"

I went into the den, logged onto the computer and typed "Superman" into the search engine. This is what I read:

"Superman is when a guy ejaculates on a girl's back and sticks the bed sheet to it. When she wakes in the morning and the sheet is stuck to her back, you have officially supermanned that hoe."

How embarrassing. How on Earth did I not know that? The song lyrics clearly state "Superman that hoe."

As soon as I got home from Christmas vacation, I signed up for daily updates from so I could keep my finger on the pulse of the English language. Each day, a new word and definition is emailed to me. Most of them are lame, but there was one this week that made me laugh:

Ghetto Upgrade
When you are flying economy on a near empty flight and can lay across an entire row of seats.


"I got a ghetto upgrade on my flight out west and was able to sleep most of the way."

In other news, I am two weeks away from the marathon and I'm feeling pretty good about the race. So excited Kiddy F. is coming back to the 'Burgh! Thanks so much to everyone who donated to my Web site! Also thank you for all of the great song suggestions!


Wednesday, April 8, 2009


I’m reading Valley of the Dolls for the third time. Each time I read it, I fall in love with the story all over again. It was written in the 60s, yet it is so scandalous! Drugs! Sex! Entertainment! More drugs! I’ve read every book by Jacqueline Susann and they are all incredible. If you have not yet read Valley of the Dolls, get it ASAP. I check it out of the Mt. Lebanon library every couple of years. Sometimes I wonder if anyone else does, or if it just sits on the shelf and waits for me to return.

Several of you have written to me and asked about my progress with the Resveratrol/Soy Isoflavones experiment. Here’s the lowdown:

I have not lost any weight, yet I have not gained any
I do feel leaner around the spare tire and rotten peaches regions.
I do have natural energy and don’t experience my “tired time” which typically occurred around 2 pm
I’m not that hungry. The combination seems to keep my blood sugar steady all day so I’m not ATTACKING food.

Although I haven’t achieved the results I initially wanted (losing tons of weight while doing absolutely nothing), I think it has definitely helped. You have to be careful about what Resveratrol you order. Since everyone is talking about it, a lot of supplement makers have gotten on the bandwagon and some are offering products that aren’t legit. Through my research, I have found a brand that has been independently tested and the ingredients are actually pretty close to what is listed on the bottle. I have also found the cheapest price for you. To order, click here.

In other news, the marathon training is going as planned. I ran more than 14 miles on Saturday! The hours following the run—not so much fun. I developed debilitating shin splints and a raging case of swamp ass, which I self-diagnosed. The good news is that I followed the rules this time and had a pasta dinner the night before, drank two glasses of wine and went to bed early. I ate a Zone bar and drank two cups of Jet Fuel (available for your Keurig coffee maker) before I left. All of this made a huge difference in my performance. Through my marathon journey, I have tried a lot of different approaches the night before a long run. Here is a list of things NOT to do:

Eat Mexican food. Hot sauce in particular.
Drink Scotch.
Watch movies with your brother-in-law until 3 am.
Smoke cigars.
Do a P90x plyometrics video

All common sense, in retrospect. But what can I say? You have to learn from your mistakes.

I have also gotten some great suggestions from all of you for my running playlist. Not to sound greedy, but I need more. The following is the current playlist I am using. You might laugh out loud at some of the songs, but it is really random what motivates people. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send me some song suggestions. I am getting so bored!

For the first time ever in print—I give you Tiddy Ferguson’s Pittsburgh Marathon Playlist:

Alphabet Aerobics—Blackalicious
American Boy—Kanye West
Bonnie and Shyne—Shyne
The Boys of Summer—The Ataris
Express Yourself—NWA
Google Me—Teyana Taylor
Hustlin—Rick Ross
I’m Me—Lil Wayne
Jesus Walks—Kayne West (this always comes on at a point when I need Jesus)
Just Like Heaven—The Cure
Love Song—Sara Bareilles
Paper Planes—MIA
Nine in the Afternoon—Panic at the Disco
So What—PINK
These Words—Natasha Bedingfield
Till I Collapse—Eminem
Your Love—The Outfield
Nasty Girl—Notorious BIG
Never Wanted Nothing More—Kenny Chesney
King Without a Crown—Matisyahu
That’s Not My Name—The Ting Tings
Rich Girl—Hall and Oates
Dixieland Delight—Alabama
Swagger Like Us—Kanye, Jay-Z, etc.
Brooklyn Go Hard—Jay-Z
Ain’t No Half Steppin’—Big Daddy Kane
What’s Beef—Biggie Smalls
Love is Blind—EVE
Back in the High Life Again—Steve Winwood
Take it Off—The Donnas
Crazy—Gnarls Barkley
Everywhere—Michelle Branch
Slide—Goo Goo Dolls
Womanizer—Britney Spears
Fresh Azimiz—Bow Wow
Good Life—Kanye West
I Ain’t No Joke—Erik B and Rakim
Positivity—Stevie Wonder
Ain’t No Stopping Sunshine—Yoli
99 Problems—Jay Z

That's it! I'm going for a run and then Mister Ferguson and I are going to the Harp and Fiddle to watch our good friend Eaton Beaver play a live show! I will have a Scotch and water, as that is my new favorite drink. It's not as hardcore as it sounds, although I must admit it makes me feel like a badass when I order one. Mixed with water, it is a low-calorie libation. Also, I don't drink it quickly and one drink lasts a long time. Mister Ferguson claims that I am sharp as a tack when I drink Scotch.