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.

D-Dubs

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:
TIME-ENERGY DISPLACEMENT
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!

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.

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 urbandictionary.com."

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 urbandictionary.com 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.

Example:

"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 livestrong.org Web site! Also thank you for all of the great song suggestions!

 

Hopscotch

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
Fergalicious—Fergie
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
Rosanna—Toto
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.

 

"Weighting" on a Change

I’ve grown tired of obsessing over my weight. It’s been going on for 15 years and I’m exhausted. It occurred to me today that for as long as I can remember, not a day has gone by that my muffin top, second chin and rotten peaches (stores of fat on the underside of the arm) have not been at the top of my mind.

In fact, each day I get out of bed it is the first thing I think about. I pee, strip off all of my clothes (including any jewelry) and weigh myself. I record that weight into a little notebook, even though there is little to no movement. Every single day. Once a week, I get out a measuring tape and record the circumference of my waist, thighs and rotten peaches. Get a life, Tiddy!

The most hilarious part of my sad saga is that other than exercising, I do little to correct my lifestyle—hoping, instead, for a miracle. I do work out, but that is only part of the weight loss equation. What you don’t know is that I am a regular at the Sonic drive-through, Burger King and Arby’s. All of the running I have to do to train for the marathon makes me ravenous, and I never feel like I am satisfied. I eat breakfast and immediately start thinking about what I’m doing for lunch. I could eat a large pizza by myself and still have room for breadsticks. I’m a bottomless pit. It’s total bullshit. You think I started training for this marathon for fun? No. The only reason I did it is so that I would be totally hot by the time summer rolled around. There’s only a month left until the race and unless I start melting like a popsicle, I’m going to have to rework my plan.

According to my Women’s Health magazine, the first step is to create a food journal and write down everything you eat. I started mine yesterday. I ran into my weight loss partner-in-crime at a work meeting in the afternoon and showed it to her. She started reading it and busted out laughing. It was mostly normal stuff, but what caught her eye was the CADBURY CRÈME EGG. She found that amusing because she knows that every year around Easter, the eggs are Tiddy’s Kryptonite. I cannot go a day without eating one and it drives me crazy just knowing they are available for sale in the store.

I like the food journal because it is all there in black and white. I’m on day two and have only lied to myself twice. I like to use a pencil so I can make changes on the fly—changes that erase things that took place earlier in the day so I can free up my afternoon for CADBURY CRÈME EGGS!

I was bitching about my weight-loss woes to one of my doctors the other day and he told me to buy two supplements—Resveratrol and Soy Isoflavones. According to researchers at the University of Georgia, the two antioxidants mixed together reduced cells’ ability to store fat by 80% and caused fat cells to self-destruct at a rate 246% higher than normal--causing a natural, harmless form of fat-cell death. Upon hearing this, I ran out of his office like a bat out of hell and high-tailed it straight to GNC, where I purchased the supplements and gulped them down in the parking lot. I’ve been on them for about five days now, and I could really tell something was happening at first. Yesterday, however, old lady period rolled into town masking all progress, so I will have to get back to you on the results later.

Another tip I received from the good doctor was to purchase “Full Bars.” These are nutrition supplement bars that you eat twice a day—before lunch and dinner. The idea is that when ingested with 8 ounces of water, the ingredients are supposed to mimic the effects of gastric bypass surgery, causing you to feel full and eat less of your regular meal. The only caveat is that the bars contain 180 calories each, so you better hope it fills you up before you dive into dinner!

I bought a few of them and I must say, they did make me feel a little more satisfied than usual. I have found that it is a good mid-morning snack for me. Lunch is when I am on my worst behavior, so I need all of the help I can get.

According to the BMI (body mass index) scale, I am at a normal weight. Not obese, not underweight, just normal. However, according to the TMI (Tiddy mass index) scale, I am not at goal weight. Not even close. Whoever said you need to eat lose to lose weight was full of shit. Okay, maybe you need to eat the RIGHT things to lose weight!

Will there ever come a day when I don’t think about my weight? Why am I so hard on myself? Even when I’m at my goal, I’m worried about maintaining it. I guess the answer is that I need to start following some sort of lifestyle and stop eating cheeseburgers whenever I damn well please. I’ll keep you posted on what I come up with. In the meantime, I welcome any sort of tips and suggestions you may have for me!

Also, I really appreciate all of the song suggestions you guys have sent to me, and please keep them coming! I need so many more songs. Lacey Underalls informed me today that one of my readers is running a marathon REALLY soon, so I will post my entire playlist tomorrow.

I got a really great email from one of my old high school (and current day) chums D Dubs. It read:

Tiddy:

Rewind twelve months. You were out having fun and a friend wanted to take a picture with you using their cool camera phone. It made you feel good because you thought that they liked you enough to want a photo keepsake of your moment together. But today when a friend says, "lets take a picture" it's more like, "will you 'up' my social standing on Facebook by being added to my mobile-uploads gallery?" When friends take our picture these days, are we being used?

PS...you are even hotter now than you were in high school (just kidding, he didn't write THAT part!)

Your Friend,

D Dubs

I laughed at this email when it came in because it is so true. For example, Mister Ferguson and I went to the Southside with some friends on Saturday to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. Eventually, the cameras came out and we all started staging photo ops. "Look at us! We're all wearing green shirts! The slutty Miller Lite girls just gave us shamrock Mardi Gras beads! We're 30 and still so crazy!"

Inevitably, after every photo was taken, I immediately checked it out and imagined what it was going to look like posted on my Facebook account later. Did my face look fat? Was my muffin top showing? What would I use for a caption?

You might read this and think I'm completely ridiculous. Don't judge me! You know you all do the same thing. Did you notice that nobody ever posts unflattering photos of themselves on Facebook? Whenever somebody tags me in a picture and I don't like the way I look, I untag that shit immediately. You never know what sort of ex-boyfriend or enemy is stalking your profile and it is always important to look your best.

Speaking of Facebook, my Aunt Ferguson started a group on the site called "Pearls on Wednesdays" that encourages its members to wear pearls every Wednesday no matter what. I joined the group even though I didn't own a strand and couldn't really participate. However, much to my delight, my dear Aunt sent me my very own pearls for Valentine's Day! I feel so grown up and lady-like. I have faithfully donned them every Wednesday since they arrived and I must say they really do class up an outfit. I would love it if all of my readers would join in and wear pearls on Wednesdays. You could start tomorrow!

In other news, I am 47% sure I saw a drug deal take place today. I was terrified and secretly thrilled at the same time. I'm pretty sure this gives me the street cred that I've always felt I deserve.

I'm going to upload some photos onto Facebook and lay my pearls out for tomorrow.

Download this: Allentown by Billy Joel (I really like to sing this in the car and substitute 'Morgantown' for 'Allentown'. It never gets old.)

Tiddy Ferguson says: The best way to succeed in life is to act on the advice we give to others.

Pittsburgh (We Go Hard)

For all of you who thought you were beating the system by unscrewing the top of your "I Can't Believe it's Not Butter" spray and dumping it into your Kraft Macaroni and Cheese to make it fat free, think again.

It's the spray technology that makes it fat free. In fact, the entire bottle contains 900 calories and 90 grams of fat. I don't know about you, but I am devastated by this news. I have been substituting spray butter for the real thing for years and this explains A LOT. Bottom line--if you are currently practicing this culinary charade, you need to cease and desist immediately!

In keeping with my grueling marathon training schedule, Mister Ferguson decided it would be fun we both participated in a 10 mile "Shamrock Shuffle" on Saturday morning. Races are nothing new for Tiddy, I've been a casual runner for years. I enjoy showing up, running a new course, getting a t-shirt and maybe a cookie at the end. I don't come in first, I don't come in last. On the way there, I don't think much about the race. I'm too busy trying to slurp down as much coffee as I can so I'm juiced up enough to finish the damn thing.

On the opposite end of the spectrum sits Mister Ferguson. Whereas I am a mere participator, he is a competitor. I guess I didn't realize this was his FIRST RACE EVER, but it became very apparent as we approached the site. When we arrived, he immediately began sizing up all of the runners that were congregated in the parking lot while I was busy casing the joint for a Porta Potty.

What's annoying is that the serious runners were all taking a light jog (that resembles my full-on sprint) to loosen themselves up for the big dance. Treating this as though it were the Olympic trials, Mister Ferguson decided he also needed a warm-up run to adequately compete. "Come on, Tiddy!" he pleaded. "Let's get out there and get our muscles ready for the race!"

I informed him that this was not my first rodeo and I was quite sure I was going to need everything I had and more to finish the race. I had no desire to get out there and show off by running before it was absolutely necessary. He was a little dejected, but knew I spoke the truth.

A mere ten minutes later, we were lined up and ready to go. He high-fived me and wished me a good race and slowly started to edge his way to the front. I knew my place, so I hung back with the rest of the cruisers.

As soon as I finished the first mile, I knew I was in for one hell of a run. Some sort of sadist designed the course and it was full of hills and smells of cow manure. I amused myself by counting the dead possums on the road. Wow--their tails are really long! I can't complain, though. I finished the race and my iPod was kind, playing the right songs at the right time. If you would get a gander at my playlist, you would swear I was some sort of gangster or hoodrat. There is a TON of hardcore rap and some random Steve Winwood, Lionel Richie...whatever gets me through. Sometimes I catch myself rapping out loud to NWA and it is pretty embarrassing. Right now, my power song is "Swagger Like Us." This song is great to run to and also contains such valuable insights as:

"No, I can't teach you my swag. You can pay for school but you can't buy class."

"I can't wear skinny jeans 'cause my nuts don't fit."

"I'm Christopher Columbus, ya'll just pilgrims."

I did see Mister Ferguson at one point during the race when he lapped me by a pretty significant distance. He had a huge smile on his face and was galloping down the road like Seabiscuit. I'm pretty sure I was wearing a grimace and throwing gang signs.

The good news--Mister Ferguson finished the race in 1:17! I finished a long time after that! We both got really nice long sleeve t-shirts with a leprechaun on the front and I really felt like I earned it!

Like I mentioned before, I am running the Pittsburgh Marathon. It is 26.2 miles and since I run really slow, it will take me about 10 years to finish it. As a result, I am going to need a lot of songs on my playlist to get me through the race. That's where YOU come in. I am calling on all of the readers of tiddy.com to send me any songs get you going in the gym, on the road or in the car. You can send them to me at tiddyferguson@gmail.com or comment on the blog. Either way, I need you! My existing playlist is getting old and I'm losing steam.

 

No Quiero Taco Bell

I decided to have lunch at Taco Bell yesterday (by myself—so sad) and the drive-thru line was WAY too long so I bit the bullet and went in the restaurant. Usually I like to scarf down my tacos while driving with one hand and talking on my cell phone. I’m dangerous.

I figured I would be in and out in about ten minutes tops. I couldn’t have been more wrong. A very old man took my order at the counter and disappeared. I stood at the register and waited. After five minutes, I was really becoming impatient. How long does it take to put together a taco? I was ravenous and ready to jump behind the counter and pitch in when a 300 pound lady came to the front and asked if I had placed my order. I calmly replied that I had and was waiting for my food. She rolled her eyes at me and went into the back. I could hear her talking to her coworkers in the kitchen as she exclaimed, “She just standin’ there like a bump on a log waitin’ on her food, lookin’ all dumb!”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I was in a real predicament. Part of me wanted to be pissed, but I was laughing so hard on the inside that I had to bite my lip. The lady came back up front and handed me a cup so I could busy myself getting a drink while the crew in the back continued to make fun of me and took their sweet ass time making my tacos.

At the drink island, something struck me as odd. There were ten drink flavor choices, yet only one of them was diet. I realize that the population generally favors regular soda, but you cannot tell me that only one-tenth drinks diet. I refuse to believe it. As it was, Diet Pepsi was my only option so I took it. Tiddy really prefers Diet Coke.

I returned to the counter and continued to “look all dumb” until another surly employee came to the front and tossed a bag of tacos at me without saying a word. I had originally planned on eating in the dining room, but I was so baffled by what had just taken place that I took my tacos and ran away from the border.

Once in my car, I wrestled with thoughts of what could have taken place in the back of the kitchen. The employees had obviously taken a dislike to me. What if there were pubes in my tacos? What if the old man with the grey hair shook some of his beard dandruff in my cheese? The thought was too much for me to bear. I simply could not eat the tacos.

I polished off my Diet Pepsi and rummaged around my car for some Tootsie Rolls. Not the most nutritious lunch, but better safe than sorry. Nobody wants to eat a pube taco.

Two more days until I leave for the Super Bowl! Tiddy is going to Tampa!

poo poo platter

Yesterday I was walking down the hallway in my house and got a whiff of something that made me throw up in my mouth a little. Mister Ferguson had apparently had his morning coffee and had visited the bathroom a few minutes before. He likes to use the same bathroom every morning for number two. Unfortunately, I like to use it also and he always beats me to it.

Fast forward 30 minutes later. The stench was gone and I was heading in for my own little private time with the latest copy of the New Yorker. As I sat reading about Obama’s inauguration, my own brand of poo began to permeate the air. As usual, it did not faze me and I continued reading for the next 15 minutes in my own little stink cloud.

As I began to wrap up my little bathroom session, a strange thought entered my mind. Why are we repulsed by the smell of other people’s poo, yet don’t mind hanging out with our own toxic waste? I know my poo stinks. I smell it while I’m in there, and it’s bad. It doesn’t bother me, though. I’ll even re-enter and start brushing my teeth five minutes later if I’m pressed for time, even though it still reeks in there. Yet Mister Ferguson takes a dump and I can’t go within fifty feet of the bathroom. I literally start gagging and covering my nose with a t-shirt. It’s not that his poo smells any worse than mine, it just didn’t come out of my body so I’m disgusted.

Anyway, I tried to Google the answer to my question but came up short. Seems like there isn’t a scientific answer to why I think my shit doesn’t stink. However, I did find an answer to why shit stinks in general:

Poos are about 75% water. The remaining 25% is made up of a mixture of things: stuff your body can’t break down (have you ever noticed whole corn kernels in your poo) some salt, bile (bile is made up of dead red blood cells from your liver) and, of course, bacteria. Excrement is not very nice stuff and transmits lots of nasty diseases via the mean bacteria that lurks in it. it is bacteria, combined with food wastes, that turn bile in poo brown, explaining the characteristic brown color.

The smelly substance in excrement is called skatole (3-methylindole), and it is the substance to which the human nose is most sensitive on a per molecule basis. It is present in feces because it is a breakdown product from hemoglobin (found in red blood cells) that enters the gut via bile. The reason we have evolved to be so sensitive to the smell of this substance is that, by making poo smell so terrible to us, evolution has ensured that we remain repelled by our own poo. If we hate the smell, we know that its bad and we steer clear of it as much as possible.

There’s your science lesson for the day. If you’ll excuse me, I just got a new issue of the New Yorker in the mail.

Here we go Steelers!

Hello old friends. Wow! It has certainly been a while since I wrote on my blog! What can I say? The holidays really had their way with me!

But alas, here we are again. New year, new attitude. I’m focused and committed to life, love and having a good time. Tiddy is back for good.

We have a lot to talk about so let’s get started. First and most importantly, the Steelers are going to the Super Bowl! I am so excited I can hardly stand it. Mister Ferguson and I decided to book plane tickets to Tampa last week and it really paid off! We made the decision on a whim and thought that we would just take a mini vacation to Florida if the game didn’t pan out. A win-win situation if you ask me!

Now I have a mere two weeks to drop a few pounds, get a little color and a mani/pedi. It’s really funny how you tend to let yourself go when the temperatures plummet. You wait a couple of extra days to shave your legs. You don’t say no to that extra piece of pizza—even though you know you’re going to feel like shit after you eat it. The lady from the gym calls you and asks if everything is okay because your membership has been inactive. Day after day, you trudge out of bed, wrap yourself up like a mummy and face the elements. Once you get to work, you begin counting the minutes until you can go home and wrap yourself in a blanket and veg out in front of the television. Depressing.

It takes a shock to the system like a spur of the moment trip to Tampa to get your motor running again. I feel like an actual person instead of a winter zombie! I wonder—
If I lived in a warm climate, would I be the best possible version of myself year-round? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate the snow. I think it is beautiful and I really enjoy skiing. It’s just Monday through Friday that’s the problem!

Enough bitching. Let’s end on a high note. I recently finished reading The Shack and it was a great way to start the New Year. If you haven’t read it, you should—especially if you struggle with faith, religion, your purpose on Earth, etc.

Each New Year’s Day, I make the same resolutions:

1. Lose weight/exercise
2. Stop drinking so much
3. Stop talking shit on people
4. Don’t worry so much/manage what I can control
5. Be a better communicator/learn how to say no

Tiddy’s Five Commandments last about two weeks if I’m lucky. Honestly, I don’t even know why I set myself up for failure! However, after reading The Shack, I have a new perspective. I’m not going to say on life because that would be giving a book too much credit, but it really did make me think. The whole message is to live your life without an agenda and realize you have no authority to judge other people. These are two areas where Tiddy struggles big time! Admitting it is the first step!

So far this year, I’m looking at people through a different set of eyes. I’m trying not to jump to conclusions or get angry over stupid things. In 2009 Tiddy is all about understanding where someone is coming from—sympathize rather than criticize! It’s the third week of January so things are going pretty well.

If you’re in winter zombie mode yourself, it’s time to:

1. Get off your ass and go to the gym
2. Shave your legs/armpits/face, pubes, etc.
3. Buy The Shack
4. Put down the pizza

In accordance with my own resolutions, I’m going to for a run now. Supposedly I am running the Pittsburgh Marathon in May and I have a LONG way to go. Afterwards, I will drink a bottle of wine. Hey, we all knew the not drinking thing wasn’t going to happen. Plus, it’s the winter.

The Adventures of Tiddy Ferguson

I have a paper cut on my buttcheek. Two free shoe bags (handmade by Tiddy on my very own sewing machine) to the first person who guesses how it got there. Send your submissions to tiddyferguson@gmail.com. Include your address so I know where to send the shoe bags in case you get the right answer! I will publish the best ones (anonymously, of course).

So as it turns out, the paper cut is not the worst thing that happened to me this week. It all started when Mister Ferguson and I travelled down to Wilmington, NC for the holiday. Mom and Pop Ferguson moved down there last May. I have a huge family and we had a really good time. Dinner was great and I went shopping at 4:30 am on Black Friday for doorbusters with my Mom, Aunts, cousin and Sister-in-Law (Sandy Bottoms). I waited 45 minutes in line to buy Guitar Hero for Mister Ferguson (50 bucks--steal) and another half hour for two sets of flannel sheets. I also scored a 30 dollar cashmere hoodie at Old Navy (the new J Crew). People really get feisty over doorbusters. Especially big TVs. I almost lost my life in the electronics department of Wal*Mart. All I wanted were some cheap Wii games!

Saturday night, we all went out for karaoke night at a REALLY redneck bar. I still smell like smoke. Sandy Bottoms and I did a show stopping rendition of "There's Your Trouble" by the Dixie Chix and I had a solo performance of "Born to Fly" by Sara Evans. There was A LOT of Stoli involved. You know how you sing in your car and think you sound just like the artist? I had this awesome vision of me getting up there and really bringing down the house. What really happened sounded a lot like a screeching cat trying to claw its way out of a cage.

Due to the Stoli, I woke up with a bigtime headache and general malaise. I went outside on the porch to get some fresh air and encountered Poppa Ferguson sitting in a rocking chair smoking a cigar. It was 10 am. If that wasn't surreal enough, he proceeded to tell me that my 78 year old grandmother's new husband has requested that the whole family abstain from alcohol this Christmas or they would not be attending this year. This was not what I wanted to hear. I was outraged. This man just came into the family six months ago and all of the sudden he's the Godfather? What's up with these outrageous demands? This issue has not been decided yet, and I will let you guys know what happens. I have a feeling my brother and I will have to revert to our old high school tricks. We are professionals at drinking on the sly and will probably teach our parents a thing or two.

All I wanted to do was nap the day away, but we had a plane to catch! I crammed all of my doorbuster merchandise into two suitcases and went to the airport. Our flight was delayed. We saddled up to the airport bar to watch the Steeler game and imbibe in some desperately needed hair of the dog. We finally boarded the plane and I started to feel human again. That's when the pilot comes on the loudspeaker and informs us that out flight had been cancelled. OMG.

Long story short, we waited in line for more than 3 hours so some douche could tell us that we couldn't get home until Tuesday. That's when Mister Ferguson got assertive and told the guy exactly how we were going to get home (HOT)!

Our journey home was harrowing. You hear horror stories about air travel all of the time. You might say, "Wow! That sucks!" or "I just can't imagine!" No, you can't.

The first few hours, you try to have a good attitude. You see everyone losing it around you and you vow to not be like them. You smile at the clueless airline agent and even laugh a little at your misfortune. However, after you are flagged for "extra security"--a.k.a. your dirty underwear is being manhandled by some man with rubber gloves--and you are berated by unruly passengers for barely making your plane due to said extra security, you start to crack a little.

It was at this point the Fergusons had a little meltdown. Almost the kind that people get arrested for. First, there was a showdown with a flight attendant who wanted Mister Ferguson to check his bag due to the fact there was no room left in the overhead compartments. Impossible! We had to devote the entire day Monday to trying to fly standby out of Charlotte. If we checked bags, we wouldn't be allowed! She must have seen the desperation in our eyes, because she finally relented. They started shifting bags to make room. The "special treatment" we received enraged several passengers, and they voiced their opinions. Tiddy lost it at this point and started to tough talk those who dared talk shit. They had nothing to say back. I think it was because I had started to feel, act and smell like an animal. I probably had crazy eyes.

We finally made it home many, many, many hours later. Pure exhaustion. I could barely lift my fingers to order Chinese food that evening. I was just starting to get back to normal when I got that damn papercut on my buttcheek.

Christmas is just around the corner. We are driving this time.

 

In response...

In response to this comment left on my last blog:

Dear Tiddy, I need some advice and I thought that you would be the perfect person to ask! I am going to my boyfriend's grandparents house for Christmas Eve to meet them and the whole family for the first time. Obviously, I wouldn't want to show up empty-handed. Any suggestions on what to bring besides the typical bottle of wine? Thanks Tiddy!

Tiddy can sympathize! I've been there! Fortunately, I have the perfect solution. Visit www.fullbloomtea.com. You can pick up a gift set that includes a clear teapot and 6 tea bags that bloom into a beautiful flower right before your eyes! The host can make the tea while you are there and it will definitely be a conversation piece. Not a lot of people know about blooming teas. The package is very attractive and will seal your girlfriend status with the family immediately!

Hope this helps!

Tiddy

The Gift Horse

I walked into Wal*Mart today and was greeted by an enormous Christmas tree. Is it just me, or does the retail industry continue to push the season earlier every year? LET ME GET THROUGH THANKSGIVING FIRST!

That being said, Tiddy likes to get an early jumpstart on her Christmas shopping. I have a huge family and I like to plan ahead. It beats giving Granny yet another gift set from Bath and Body Works. She is outspoken and has simply told me she will not tolerate another one.

I have spent the past few years searching for the perfect gifts that appear thoughtful and are things that the recipient might actually enjoy. How many times have you picked up a Christmas edition of a magazine that advertises "50 best gifts under 50 dollars" and found nothing worthwhile on the list? Most of the time, I can't believe someone actually got paid to compile such nonsense.

As my early Christmas gift to you, Tiddy is going to give you a list of gifts that are not only dope, but also affordable. With a little planning ahead, you can relax this holiday season and maybe even buy a little something for yourself!

Conditions:

I have given everything on this list at least once. You may be reading this and realize you have received one of the items from Tiddy and/or Mister Ferguson in the past. If you are on my gift list this year, you will probably receive one of these items. If you see something you like, let me know. I would also appreciate any other badass gift ideas from my readers (tiddyferguson@gmail.com).

THE LIST

1. Address Stampers from Fine Stationery

I swear, I have ordered 20 of these. They have a million designs to choose from, ranging from classy to collegiate (no WVU). It takes about two weeks to receive them and they only cost $40. I personally have one and use it on every piece of mail that goes out of my house. To check them out, click here

2. Luxury Plush Throw from Restoration Hardware

This is no ordinary blanket. I bought it on a whim last year and couldn't be happier. Mister Ferguson and I fight over it every night. Every person who visits our house ends up buying one. I just sent one to Dicky for his birthday. SURPRISE DICKY! My friend Clark said "it was like when they put the lead blanket over you when you get X-Rays at the dentist, but not in a bad way." It's warm, it's comforting and best of all, you can throw it in the washer and dryer and it comes out looking the same. To check it out, click here

3. Personalized Gingerbread House by Williams-Sonoma

This is best for a boss with a family or a co-worker...someone like that. It really makes an impression. Last year, I was sending one from LL Bean, but they really jacked the price up this time around. Luckily, I was able to find an alternative at Williams-Sonoma. To check it out, click here

4. Chanel Exceptionnel Mascara

This is a good one for the ladies. It's a small package that packs a big punch. This is probably the best mascara on the planet. If you have a friend that you want to buy a little something for, this is a gift they will truly enjoy. My friend just bought me one for my birthday and I am blown away daily by the way it makes my lashes look. To check it out, go to any Chanel counter or click here

5. Personalized Beverage Tub from Lillian Vernon

If you know ahead of time you are going to be invited to a holiday party, order this big drink tub with the host's last name engraved on it. When you are ready to go to the party, fill it up with ice and beer/booze and take it with you. Drink all the booze and leave behind a lovely tub that can be enjoyed for parties to come. If you're in a time pinch and crafty, you can buy a steel tub at the craft store and make your own with paint markers. If not, you can check it out here

6. Ice Luge kit

This is a huge tray that makes a pretty decent ice luge. It also comes with a stand. If you went to WVU, you know that ice luges were a staple at pretty much every frat party and really liven things up. Now you can have one whenever you want! To check it out, click here

7. Shot Glass Ice Tray

Picture this...You're entertaining at home, and everyone wants a shot (happens all of the time). Rather than serve spirits from your tired, mismatched collection, you amaze everyone and serve Orange Stoli out of shot glasses made completely from ice! These are amazing and always a conversation piece. I always have them in the freezer just in case. To check them out, click here

8. Random WVU items

a. Underwear (click here)

b. Mountaineer Mr. Potato Head (click here)

c. Coonskin Hat (click here)

d. WVU Garden Gnome (click here)

That's all I've got! Hope it helps! Love, Tiddy F.

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Motown Memories

Oh, Morgantown. How I love that place. In fact, I love it so much I am only able to make the pilgrimage no more than twice a year. I only live an hour away so distance is not the issue. It's that once I cross the West Virginia line, I immediately become 21 again. That's not necessarily a bad thing. Tiddy has to let her hair down once in a while. However, when I do make it to Morgantown, I try to cram my entire junior year into one night. And I had a pretty eventful junior year, so that IS a bad thing.

Case in point, Mister Ferguson and I went to catch the WVU/Auburn game last Thursday night. We arrived in time to tailgate for about an hour. I met up with my old boss (who is awesome, by the way) and he led us to a kick-ass setup with motor homes, pig roasts, jungle juice and a full bar! Pretty much as rock star as you can get for Mountaineer Field. However, as I sipped my Tiddy Ferguson and surveyed the crowd, I found myself longing for the PIT. How I wished I was back there...drinking Natty Light, peeing in the creek next to complete strangers, doing beer bongs and skipping the game entirely. This blows my mind: When I was a student, I had access to free tickets and went to four games in four years. Now, I have to pay out the ass to go to a game and we are in our seats before kickoff. What a difference ten years makes.

We're not totally old. We were able to smuggle ten airplane bottles of random booze (thanks to ROHM '08) into the game. They were assorted, so you had to take what you could get. Coconut rum went into hot chocolate...Captain Morgan went into Coke...Jack was taken straight to the head. Needless to say, we were able to keep the party going as we watched WVU destroy Auburn. Mountaineer Field would be so much cooler if they served beer.

After the game, Mister Ferguson and I made an executive decision to spend the night in Morgantown and drive home at 6 am in the morning. Better in theory, trust me. We hit the town hoping for a big night of the Back Door, Chick-N-Bones, Bent Willey's (aka Sullivan's) followed by a nightcap of Casa pizza.

I'm just going to be honest here. Morgantown has changed and not for the better. The shitty bars we came to know and love have been replaced with slick martini joints and swanky lounges. Gone are the days where one would embark on a weekend journey with 20 bucks, get drunk both nights and have ten dollars left on Sunday. I'm not sure where these kids get all of their cash, but I can assure you, Tiddy would have a hard time surviving in new Morgantown. Dead serious, I would go to the bar and order a "White Zin" and really thought I was a classy broad. I had no idea what a martini was back then. Unfortunately, I do now.

BRING BACK SIMPLE TIMES MORGANTOWN! The college girls look like they are 30. I honestly didn't feel that out of place. Maybe it's all the pressure to be a baller in new Morgantown, but it really shows. I didn't see one fresh-faced individual in the crowd.

Long story short, we got our slice of pizza at the end of the night and it tasted just like it always did. That, coupled with the fact I scored two free drinks at Bent Willey's gave me just enough of an incentive to make the trip next year.

The drive home the next day was brutal, but we made it in one piece. I wasn't hungover despite the fact that ROHM '08 and Mrs. Rohm '08 like their shots. I hate anything involving Red Bull. I will be so happy when that goes out of style.

Smell Memories

Hello readers. We have a lot to talk about since I completely took the last week off. I don't have any excuse other than the fact that I felt uninspired and had nothing to write about. It happens sometimes. Stick with me.

So tonight I found a bottle of Febreze in the closet and decided to spritz some on a sweater that I took out of storage. As soon as the spray came out of the bottle, I realized I have not used the product in a long time. The smell conjured up memories of me in college, spraying a pair of jeans that I wore to a frat party the night before and attempting to make them smell "April Fresh" for my creative writing class. So disgusting. I'm pretty sure everyone I knew in Morgantown did the same thing. We all thought it was a miracle invention. Who needed to do laundry when you can just Febreze the cigarettes, beer, cologne from a random and who knows what else away?

I threw the bottle in the garbage tonight. When used appropriately, I'm sure Febreze is an excellent product. However, smell memories can never be erased. I have the same issue with "Tranquil Breezes" lotion from Victoria's Secret. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about.

This weekend we went to Seven Springs and hung out, drank a little (a lot) and had an excellent crab cake feast. The downfall of the evening? Firefly Vodka. Most of my readers may not be familiar with Firefly because it is only sold in the South. When we were in Hilton Head, Lacey Underalls, DJ WOW and I bought a whole case. I might live to regret that purchase.

Firefly Vodka tastes exactly like sweet tea. Therefore, you have no idea how much you are drinking until you stand up to go to the bathroom and you don't know where you are. Firefly took down some of the most seasoned veterans in my whole crew. It doesn't mess around. That being said, I love it. Tiddy's family lives in the South and I have already ordered up another case. If you happen to stumble upon a bottle, I think it is best mixed with club soda.

I have received some hate mail over my lack of communication this week. Again, I'm sorry. We'll get though this. Why don't any of you mofos communicate when things are good?

SHELACKED

Five to ten bottles of Blueberry Stoli later, Mister Ferguson and I are officially back in the burgh. What an amazing week. I have never been on a beach vacation in October, but I must say I am a fan! The weather is still great and there are no lines anywhere you go!

Where do I begin? I last spoke to all of you on Tuesday, right before things started heating up. Lacy Underalls and Mike Oxbig arrived in town on Wednesday along with the Wick and we all had a great time at the Tiki Bar. The boys spent hours playing beach volleyball, and one of the players sustained a major injury (we're talking crutches). I'm not going to name names, but it didn't seem to impede his ability to pick up some trim at the wedding!

The most amusing event of the week occurred the day of the wedding. Lacy, myself and Connie Lingus (wife of Hugh Gass) decided that morning that we were going to go thirds on two bottles of Veuve Cliquot and make hair appointments at a salon within walking distance. We purchased the champagne and found a place called Hair & Co., which is located in Coligny Plaza. Connie wanted a blowout, Lacy wanted a sophisticated bun and Tiddy was channeling Jackie Kennedy, so I wanted a half-up with height on the top and flipped out at the ends. Please understand that I was wearing a kelly green dress and this was THE ONLY way to go.

So we walked into the hair salon with a beach bag full of booze. It was a cute little place, but all of the chairs were taken and there was nowhere for us to go. The three of us decided to sit outside and told the ladies to let us know when they were ready for us. Lacey was called in first. A mere ten minutes later, Tiddy was called in. I sat in the chair and began to explain what I envisioned as my look for the evening. I was barely finished with the phrase "just flip it out at the ends" when I saw my dear friend Lacy wildly running her hands through her hair like the Fonz, shrieking "I want it shelacked! There is no room for a teasing comb when I say SHELACKED!!!" As the minutes wore on, Lacy became more and more agitated and I began giving her the stink eye from across the room. I called out to Connie to bust out the Veuve and slowly things began to gel. Turns out, the stylist was also from Jersey and knew just how to handle Lacy. She began the bun with a quiet confidence and before long, the two were talking about Jersey and cats like they had known each other for years!

The experience we had at Hair & Co. could only be described as Steel Magnolias. The three of us had so much fun talking with Donna, Jerry and the ladies we popped the second bottle and stayed long after our hair was finished! We were all overjoyed with our wedding looks and I know Lacy felt properly shelacked. I sincerely hope our new friends will read Tiddy.com!

Onto the wedding! After an 80 mph trolley ride (with windows open), our hair was in danger of ruin. Luckily, the ladies at Hair & Co. have some serious hairspray and we didn't suffer! The ceremony and reception were beautiful! There was a mashed potato bar, which is Tiddy's absolute favorite. I also loved the group that Mister Ferguson and I sat with at dinner--the Oxbigs, Hugh Gass and Connie Lingus, the Wick and the 1-6.

All of my degenerate friends really cleaned up nice. Everyone looked great and danced like they were just let out of cages. The PIKES did the Gator which is always fun to watch! I was having so much fun that I was sad when it was time to pack it back in the trolley and head for home, but fortunately there was an after party at our house!!! This is where the evening went downhill....

Earlier in the day, Lacy, Connie and I were lounging at the pool with Anita Mandalay and T.G. when we realized that the boys had only purchased beer for the after party and decided we needed to make our own provisions. The five of us rolled out to the Piggly Wiggly (yes, that is what they call the food store) and purchased TEN bottles of champagne. We proceeded to put them in a large plastic bin on ice and hide them in my closet. Needless to say, we spent most of the party sitting in my closet like a bunch of shrews, hoarding the champagne bin. And it was an absolute blast!

I don't remember falling asleep that night, but I woke up with the sunrise. And since Tiddy is a morning person no matter what, I went down to the Piggly Wiggly with my friend Bill (who I found snuggled up under a beach towel) and we bought ice cold Gatorades for the entire house. I have never seen so much joy on faces in my entire life, as the entire household had been drained of anything ingestible the night before.

As far as I know, everyone is back at home safe and sound. It will definitely take the Fergusons another week to recover from this vacation and the 11 hour drive we had yesterday. But it was worth it!

Congratulations to the happy couple!

 

Beach Bum

I'm on my third day of vacation and I am happy to report that I have worn a two piece every day. Thanks for voting--a whopping 100% of you opted for the bikini! I could never go against the opinions of the readers of tiddy.com. Initially I was a little embarrassed parading around basically nude, but I've gotten over it. Let's face it--tan fat looks better than pale fat. So as the days go on, I get better looking!

After the last time we visited Hilton Head, Mister Ferguson and I vowed we would never return. He likes waves in the ocean and this beach has little to offer in that department. However, I think that anywhere is a great time when you are with your friends. The house we are staying in is gorgeous and I spent the entire day floating in our pool on a raft reading a Jodi Picoult novel and listening to NWA on my iPod. HEAVEN!

The bride and groom have had little time to spare as they have been running around getting a marriage license and making last-minute preparations for the big day. It reminds me of my own beach wedding two years ago. I was frantic the whole time while all of my friends were living it up on vacation all week. ASSHOLES! It's so nice to go to a beach wedding that isn't your own!

The rest of the week is packed with many activities including a golf outing, beach party and BOOZE CRUISE! I haven't been on one of those since Cancun '97. That one was NOT a pleasant experience! The seas were rough that day and there were a lot of sick passengers (including Tiddy). I'm looking forward to a more mellow experience this time around!

I will update tomorrow. Love, Tiddy F.

PS...I think I overdosed on Spicy Doritos today

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One piece or two?

So tomorrow Tiddy is packing her bags YET AGAIN. I swear Mister Ferguson and I live out of suitcases. We are leaving for a week-long vacation to Hilton Head, which will culminate with the nuptials of DJ WOW and Tara Nassup. Although I am really looking forward to the trip, I am a little stressed. Since Labor Day, I am all over letting myself go--just a little! My weekends can pretty much be summed up like this: college football Saturdays filled with booze and meatballs, Sunday Steeler tailgates with day-long beer pong games and wings. The Fall season is my favorite time of year because I can wear jeans and puffy vests! Stylish and functional, the puffy vest hides at least two of the seven deadly sins--sloth and gluttony.

This late season beach vacation has thrown a wrench in my plans. WHO HAS TO GET INTO A BATHING SUIT IN OCTOBER? Don't get me wrong, I haven't become a couch potato since September 1st. I am still working out like a bastard. However, my diet has not been as stringent as it was during the summer months. I think you all know where I am going with this.

Here's my dilemma. I am going to see a lot of people at this wedding that I haven't seen since 2000. I'm not heinous, but I am not the same girl who routinely wore a yard of fabric covering her entire body on any given night out in Morgantown. Let's be honest with each other. I'm 30 years old. I'm not exactly comfortable with showing everyone what's going on under the hood. I think it's better to create a little mystery. As a result, I tried on some tankinis and low-cut one piece bathing suits this evening. I was modeling in the full-length mirror and feeling pretty good about the one-piece when Mister Ferguson came into the bedroom and told me I needed to "grow a set" and put on a bikini. What will end up happening? I will be at the pool party with a bikini and a cover-up that doesn't come off! I am going to post a poll. Please vote on whether Tiddy should rock a one piece or NOT next week.

Have any of you tried the new banana-chocolate drink at Starbucks? I had one today and it was great! Although it is a little heavy on the calorie side (245), it is worth it. It has a scoop of whey protein (20 grams) and also an assload of vitamins! You can get a shot of espresso mixed in which gives you a little kick in the ass. If you are someone who drinks a protein shake after your workout, the Starbucks version has about the same nutritional content, but tastes a hell of a lot better. Check it out!

We shove off tomorrow for the Carolinas, but I am taking my computer and promise I will not be a stranger!

I'm back, bitches! I know it has been quite some time since my last entry, but Tiddy has been extremely busy lately. That's not a good excuse. I guess I just didn't have anything to say. Now I do!

Today was such a good day. First of all, I drove through McDonalds for lunch. I never carry cash, so I whipped out my credit card to pay for my snack wrap at the first window. Imagine my surprise when the cashier told me that the credit card machines were down and my meal was FREE! All $1.75 of it! It would have been a lot cooler if I would have also gotten a Diet Coke or something a little more expensive, but it was thrilling nonetheless. As I drove away, I couldn't help but wonder how many other McDonalds customers were getting free meals and how much money it would cost the company. I know a couple of cheeseburgers is a drop in the bucket to a big company like that, but I still felt bad for some reason.

Tomorrow I am getting a manicure. Since it is now Fall, it is time to move away from Essie Limo-Scene and go to the dark side. Here's my dilemma. Usually I go with "Lincoln Park After Dark," which is a dark eggplant color. However, last Christmas my dear friend Nervsa Steel gave me a navy nail polish which is really edgy for me, but also the hot color of the season. I'm ready to go for it, but I need your opinions. Is navy nail polish stylish or goth? Please vote for your choice on the sidebar poll!

I'm going to Philadelphia this weekend! Mister Ferguson and I are going to stay with the Oxbig family and we are going to the Eagles/Steeler game. I am excited but also a little nervous. I hear Eagles fans are tough!

I'm exhausted and it shows. More than one person told me I "looked tired" today. YUCK! What a horrible thing to say! I'm going to bed to get rid of these dark circles! I promise I won't stay away from tiddy.com so long again. PEACE.

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TGIM (thank God it’s Monday). I don’t think I have ever said that in my life!

The weekend was as action-packed as I told you it would be in Friday’s entry. However, I ran out of gas yesterday morning and had to skip the Steeler game. There is only so much abuse the human body can take. Here are some highlights:

We went to a beautiful wedding in a barn on Friday night. The band was great and the chardonnay was flowing. My hairdresser Dicky was in attendance and he gave a lovely speech. One thing he said about the groom really stuck with me. I am paraphrasing, but it was something like “Roger would rather have a new experience than a new possession.” Classy and poignant…that’s my Dicky in a nutshell! If you have to give a speech in the near future, that is a line to plagiarize for sure!

Saturday morning was cruel. A 5:00 am wakeup for the early flight to Philadelphia. We carpooled with the world famous DJ WOW and his fiancée Tara Nassup (not a morning person). By 9:15 am I was in the urban palace of the Oxbig family, vodka and cranberry in hand. We went to brunch (mimosas) then to an Irish bar (Blueberry Stoli and club). I want everyone to know that I have kindled my romance with Blueberry Stoli. Needless to say, by the time we drove to Delaware for the wedding at 4 pm I was three sheets to the wind!

I am Tiddy Ferguson, so I rallied! Wedding #2 of the weekend was something else! There was actually a man in the corner rolling cigars for everyone. By the end of the night, DJ WOW was playing the cowbell and drums and Mister Ferguson had commandeered the bongos. We saw a lot of people from WVU and the bride and groom looked amazing! Unfortunately, they had planned for an outdoor ceremony and Hurricane Hannah reared her ugly head. But it all worked out and everyone had a great time!

We arrived back at our hotel around 1:30 am and took a mere disco nap before we were en route to the airport once again for a 7:15 am flight. To say I was dragging ass at this point would be a gross understatement. I ate a slice of pizza and spent a miserable 40 minutes on the plane trying to contort my body into a position for sleep. It didn’t help matters that Mister Ferguson kept trying to lay his 50 pound head on my shoulder. I almost cried when we touched down in Pittsburgh. I was wearing a Steeler jersey, but informed everyone that I had HAD IT!

I went home to take a nap, but my phone was blowing up with people wanting my shitty football picks. I finally put the phone on silent and proceeded to fall into such a deep sleep it was almost painful to wake up. When I finally woke up, I called my friends at the Osaka Restaurant and ordered broccoli chicken—the dinner portion.

I woke up this morning five pounds heavier than I was on Friday morning. I am hoping I am just full of shit and it is not legitimate fat. I worked out like a bastard today and it felt like punishment for all of the fun I had this weekend!

Liquid Diet

It’s the weekend! And while Tiddy always enjoys a good party, I would be lying if I said I’m not scared shitless for what is going to transpire over the next 48 hours. We have a jam-packed schedule and I am freaking out just looking at it. Here’s the lineup:

Tonight: Wedding at 7 pm in Pittsburgh
Tomorrow: 7 am flight to Philadelphia. We meet up with Lacy Underalls and Mike Oxbig in their home city for some college football action. At 3 pm we will drive to Wilmington, DE for yet ANOTHER wedding.
Sunday: 7 am flight to Pittsburgh. We will arrive in town clad in our Steeler jerseys and proceed straight to Heinz field for a 9 am tailgate. We will watch the game at one and then meet up at McFadden’s for the four o’clock games. We probably won’t get home until 8 pm.

OH MY LIVER! What should I drink this weekend? I can’t do vodka the whole time! This is what I was thinking:

Tonight: White wine/champagne (no more than 3 glasses)
Tomorrow: Bloody Mary or Mimosa in the am, beer afternoon, red wine at wedding
Sunday: Bloody Mary or Mimosa on the plane, beer all day

Does this sound like a solid plan? I am second guessing myself. If anyone has suggestions, PLEASE email them to tiddyferguson@gmail.com. I don't want a hangover!

I know you want football picks for this weekend, but take it from the girl who took the moneyline on the Redskins last night—my picks suck this year!!!

I will try to blog from the road, but if you don’t hear from me until Sunday, please keep me in your prayers. I am going to need it this weekend!

Happy Birthday Mister Ferguson!

Back to school, back to school. To prove to Dad that I’m not a fool. I’ve got my lunch packed up, my boots tied tight, I hope I don’t get in a fight! --Adam Sandler, Billy Madison
Well kids, summer is over and school is back in session. It makes me want to run out and get a new Trapper Keeper! Unfortunately for Tiddy (and probably most of you), my life will not be any different tomorrow. I will still go to work as I did all summer! I would be remiss, however, if I didn’t tell you how much I long to be back in high school. First day back…fresh from cheerleading camp…scoping out all of the hottie football players…wondering who would ask me to homecoming that year! Just thinking about it makes me a little sad, but I don’t dwell on the past. I know somewhere, in an American high school, there is a budding young Tiddy Ferguson clad in a white oxford Polo and short jean shorts. And she is shaking her ass all the way down the hall to chemistry class.

While I am being nostalgic, I have to tell you that Mister Ferguson turned 30 years old today! It seems like just yesterday I met him at a keg party at Mountaineer Court in Morgantown. Picture this: It was 1999. The first home football game of the season. We tailgated all day in the Pit. DJ WOW got a keg after the game and we all went to his apartment to keep the party going. I had gotten a huge rip in my GAP cargo jeans (IT WAS 1999) and my ass was hanging out. At this point in the day, I didn’t care. I had been drinking since 7:30 that morning. I got in line for a beer and when I was finished I turned around to hand the tap to the person behind me. What I saw was a total piece of ass! I said, “Who are you? You’re hot!”

He told me his name was Mister Ferguson. Not only were his eyelashes a mile long, he was a charming fellow! Needless to say, I was completely strung out on this boy for the rest of the school year. Nine years later, we are married and parenting a 16 pound yorkie named Nacho. Isn’t it funny how you find love when you least expect it?

One more thing before I go. I found a VERY valuable resource this weekend. If you are at a restaurant and want to know the nutritional content of what you are about to eat, text the restaurant and menu item to DIET 1. You will get a response with calorie count, carbs, protein, etc. immediately! It really works! You heard it here first.

armpits and vodka

What's up party people? It's the last weekend of the summer. This, coupled with the fact that I am having a FAT DAY has Tiddy feeling a little bummed out. It is not my fault that I discovered the BLT at Brugger's Bagels this week!

So remember the cardigans I was bragging about on Wednesday? I wore one today and you won't believe what happened! I was driving in my car and felt a draft under my left armpit. There was a gigantic hole in my brand new sweater! The entire seam was ripped about three inches. I took a whiff of my armpit. Was it possible that my body odor was so rancid that it burned a hole in the fabric? Or was I a victim of faulty stitching?

Of course it was the latter. Tiddy smells like an angel.

In other news, I bought a bottle of Stoli Blueberry at the liquor store yesterday thinking it would be the perfect spirit to mix with club soda. I was severely disappointed. I wanted a delicious blueberry cocktail and got unflavored vodka flavor instead. Blueberry Stoli doesn't have nearly the flavor that orange Stoli has. Those of you who attended WVU know what I'm talking about! Stick with the old standby. Orange Stoli never disappoints.

Mister Ferguson is turning dirty thirty this weekend! In preparation, I made an assload of pepperoni rolls and we are headed up to the lake for the next three days. I will not be blogging until Monday evening so I want to remind everyone to tune into the GOSSIP GIRL season premier on Monday night. If you are not currently a Gossip Girl watcher, please consider becoming one. Although it is about high school kids, it is seriously one of the most entertaining and scandalous shows on television!

I'm sure you will all be boozing this weekend, so I will leave you with a list of things that are impossible to say when you are drunk:

1. Thanks, but I don't want to sleep with you.

2. Nope, no more booze for me.

3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.

4. Good evening officer, isn't it lovely out tonight?

5. I'm not interested in fighting you.

6. Oh, I just couldn't - no one wants to hear me sing.

7. I won't make any attempt to dance, I have no coordination. I'd hate to look like a fool.

8. Where is the nearest toilet? I refuse to vomit in the street.

9. I must be going home now as I have work in the morning.

Have a great weekend and make it one to remember. West Virginia plays tomorrow! Go Mountaineers!