I am Batman!!!

Seriously, I am one balanced superhero. And did you notice that one of my abilities is martial arts? It's practically the same as being a ninja. Take that. Batman Your stats: Autonomy: 33% Image: 30% Ideology: 33% Perspective: 36%

Name: Batman Alter Ego: Bruce Wayne Abilities: Brilliant, Skilled and talented at practially everything, especially martial arts and detection. Lone Wolf. Introverted. Idealistic. Focused. The brooding, dark half of the Justice League, Batman represents the apex of self-mastery and human achievement. His incredible skill, strength and intelligence have allowed him as a mere human, to reach a level of power usually reserved only for the likes of Superman, Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel.

Weekend business

Dear Mom and Dad,

Thanks for having my sister. I know she's been trouble, and though she's small she ate a lot, but in the end, she's the best. Her spidey-sense tingles, and she's right on in my world. I love that about having a sister.

Dear Amanda,
I love you so much it hurts. Thank you for reminding me of my inner black woman.

To all you ladies with sisters: Don't miss another opportunity to dig them.

To all you ladies without sisters: Run out and buy one right away. Seriously, you have a lot of catching up to do.

And, if you didn't know, I'm now famous. I won an award from the CEO. I'm the man.

Happy weekend y'all!

And did I mention, only 3 days to Jamaica?

It ain't often a gal that green's got the blues that bad...

Kermit the Frog You scored 52% Organization, 53% abstract, and 81% extroverted!

This test measured 3 variables. First, this test measured how organized you are. Some muppets like Cookie Monster make big messes, while others like Bert are quite anal about things being clean. Second, this test measured if you prefer a concrete or an abstract viewpoint. For the purposes of this test, concrete people are considered to gravitate more to mathematical and logical approaches, whereas abstract people are more the dreamers and artistic type. Third, this test measured if you are more of an introvert or an extrovert. By definition, an introvert concentrates more on herself and an extrovert focuses more on others. In this test an introvert was somebody that either tends to spend more time alone or thinks more about herself. You are mostly organized, both concrete and abstract, and more extroverted. Here is why are you Kermit the Frog. You are both somewhat organized. You have a good idea where you put things and you probably keep your place reasonably clean. You aren't totally obsessed with neatness though. Kermit is also reasonably tidy. He'll even dress up for interviews. You both are sometimes concrete and sometimes abstract thinkers. Kermit spends a lot of his time as a reporter collecting facts, but he is also the author of the dreamy song "The Rainbow Connection." You have a good balance in your life. You know when to be logical at times, but you also aren't afraid to explore your dreams and desires... within limits of course. You are both extroverts. Kermit gets along with everyone. Sure a few folks annoy him, but that's just because they are annoying. Kermit likes to meet new people when he does his job as a street reporter. You definitely enjoy the company of others, and you don't have problems meeting new people... in fact you probably look forward to it. You are willing to take charge when necessary or work as part of a team. Oh, and in case you were wondering, Kermit starred on Sesame Street years before The Muppet Show. The other possible characters are Oscar the Grouch Big Bird Snuffleupagus Ernie Elmo Cookie Monster Grover The Count Guy Smiley Bert

Trouble sleeping. Late night walk with the dog. Another shooting star. Maybe the universe is telling me to try again.

One more hour!

I am so happy to have an extra hour of sleep tonight it's ridiculous! Going to weekend courses makes me appreciate my normal weekend routine of:

• get up at 5:30
• feed cat, walk dog
• climb back into still warm bed and snuggle back into the nest I've created through the night
• pull blanket over head
• go back to sleep for at least 2 hours.

The course is interesting (unfortunately, CEO, it is not clown college) and challenges a lot of what I've been taught as a PT. I think I'll take from it what I find is useful and add it to my bag of tricks. What I hate is that why the technique works can't really be explained. At Temple they taught evidence-based practice, and I know some of my professors' heads would explode over this stuff. But hey, if it helps my people out, I'm all for it. I'll just have to get some cream for the ass-chapping it will cause me.

GP's quote of the day? "I wish they'd quit over anal-izing it" in reference to the people who just couldn't accept that it works without the physiological explanation.

So, tomorrow I go back for day 2. Thankfully, day 2 will be shorter (we'll get done around 2 instead of 6), but it starts just as early.

For this girl, it's one shower, one glass of wine, and one extra hour of sleep. Whoo hoo!!

(And did I mention that I'm going to Jamaica this week?)

And I get to do it again tomorrow!! Oh joy!

Quote of the day:
Instructor: Why do you think God put your mouth below your nose?
TK: I don't know.
Instructor: So you can catch boogies. If you aren't catching boogies, you aren't using your mouth right.
TK: I'm pretty happy I haven't been using it right, then.

Getting up at 5:30am to drive an hour and twenty minutes to a conference bites.

Quote of the day:

Patient: Did you get your hair permed? (I wore fun party hair today)
TK: Nope. I can just make it do this. What do you think?
Patient: You look like you could be a black lady. (Note: patient is black. Refer to link above to see the albino girl)
TK: Mr. X, that has nothing to do with my hair. It's about my butt isn't it?
Patient: Yea. Something more like that.

I love little old men!

I'm going to be a part of THIS... are you?

Why I'm afraid of live chickens...

They are immune to ninja attacks.

Note: I am so sad that this video won't load. I can't even get it onto my account at onetruemedia. Synopsis? This kid pulls off some ninja moves in the direction of a rooster. Then the rooster turns and chases the kid (who runs far far away). It's hysterical. Stay tuned. I'm going to keep trying.

Halloween

Glittery purple cape: check
glittery silver and pink letters: check
fabric paint: check
black felt top hat: check

Now, how the hell am I going to turn that into a Halloween costume? It all seemed like a good idea at the time!

So, I've made it back to doing Yoga Booty Ballet. It is a fantastic workout. It's ballet, yoga, and dance moves combined to give you a great cardio and toning program in a short time. And it's kicking my ass. I got it while in Denver and did it a few times. And, well, I got lazy. I get in phases where I think that getting on an elliptical runner or bike is better for me and I quit doing the yoga stuff. When I lived in Philly, I took 3 yoga classes a week. I looked and felt really good (for me). But I get started on other stuff and let it fall to the wayside. And so it was with Yoga Booty Ballet. Then I had the whole fankle problem. Well, you get my drift. I'm excellent at procrastinating. So I started again on Monday. Just because it was Monday. And Tuesday, I could hardly walk. My quads were on fire. So I took Tuesday off. But today I was back at it. I'm pretty sure I broke my Downward Facing Dog. I didn't come near pulling off Plank. But I did finish the workout. And I'll do it again.

Great things from today?

• Got to have date #2 with Jim-bo the Fatboy. Pulled a U-turn to get back to the barn when I saw the girls were there so I could meet Jim-bo's owner. She promptly hopped off, handed me the reins so she could get to the pharmacy before it closed, and headed for the car. I (in full "I just got off of work" gear, right down to my dress slacks and Dansko's) jumped on and had a great 30 minute ride. From now on I'll be keeping a pair of jeans and my boots in Tough Lucy so I can ride at a moment's notice... and not ruin my new perfect pants.
• Learned that "Fat Bottom Girls" make the rockin' world go 'round. I used to think Queen was singing "Blackwater Girls". I thought maybe Blackwater was a town. Turns out I'm making the rockin' world go 'round. Bad ass.
• I completed Yoga Booty Ballet without pissing off the fankle. I'm making progress here people!
• In one week I'll be driving to an airport, making my way toward Jamaica.
• I saw a shooting star and dared to wish for things I haven't wished for in a long time. I think I'm finally ready for them again. And that's a nice feeling.

Happy Hump Day everyone!

Dear Tiffany,

Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, October 25:

You're in a traveling kind of mood. That means you need to be prepared, literally and metaphorically, to go long distances at a moment's notice. Get your passport up-to-date and keep a flexible mindset.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm... Just in time for the WanderingGirl to go to Jamaica, mon!

Some stories are for the blog. Some things go in the journal. Tonight is for the journal.

So, I'll leave you with a pic of my nasty smushed hand... this photo was taken about 5 weeks after I smashed it in the tailgate. Now it's been 9 weeks and I'm down to two little scars and two tiny lumps. Not so bad for having been flat and blue. God bless my meat claws. It's a good thing I wanted to be a PT and not a hand model.

Mullet Air

No kidding, this is the Spirit Airlines $29 sale slogan. On the email, it's got a dude with a mullet. And this is the airline I'm going to Jamaica on. I'll be part of the party in the back.

Return of the Mullet!
Business in the front, party in the back

ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!!!

Dear Tiffany,

Here is your horoscope for Monday, October 23:

You're magnetic -- truly, a creature of irresistible mystery. This is just what your usual aura of brainy friendliness needs. Get set to dazzle the next person who crosses your path. They'll stay dazzled!

I had no idea I am so cool. I should really have a boyfriend. It must be the pants. I mean, who can resist that?

Guys, don't bother... today is about shopping

So today, I had to go shopping. I mean it. I had to. That's not a joke. Mom, quit shaking your head in disbelief. My pants are wearing out (and not in the *wink*wink* kind of way.) Quickly. And it's a job requirement for me to wear pants.

Ladies, have you ever found a perfect pair of pants? Me neither. Until today. The only thing they're missing is the ability to make me look like a size 2 and keep my thighs from rubbing. I swear, they're as close to perfect as I'll ever come. So I bought them in every color. I hope they last forever. I may go back and buy a "backup" pair in every color just in case some day they wear out. I will just have to remain "curvy" so they will always fit. They might look great in a smaller size, but I can't be sure about that.

And then I needed a few tops to match. I mean, really, you can't just buy new pants and expect them to match what you already have in the closet. Can I get an amen from my sisters? The shocking thing about today? Not a single pair of new shoes. Not one. (Mom! Mom! Snap out of it! Acting like you've passed out is not funny.) The fankle is mostly behaving itself, and I'm not pushing it. I'm also not interested in purchasing orthopedic shoes, so I'm not buying any new shoes... for the moment. If I can't wear the ha-cha-cha heels, I shall wear flipflops! (And I already have flip flops.) But I digress.

I spent some quality time parting with things already in my closet. Gone are the failing pants. Disappeared are the things that I haven't worn in the past year. I have a hard time letting go of my "stuff" but I did it. And I have a big bag of "stuff" that will be given to a clothing closet for someone who can't afford to go out and buy new stuff. I hate throwing things away, but I refuse to become a packrat (again). My summer clothes are in a bin... at least the ones that aren't going to Jamaica in 10 days.

That's right, people, read 'em and weep. 10 days until I try to be Jamaican. If I can't get a glorious tan, I'll get corn rows and an accent, 'mon! I can't wait!!!

Pooh King and Oz-fest expect presents in every box that arrives on our doorstep. That's how it is. It's the Old One's fault. She started it by sending presents in every box. So, imagine their disbelief when the Old One sent a box with nothing in it for them. Oz figured that the box itself must have been her gift, so she curled right up. Pooh King now figures that giving the cat the box was his gift, since that meant she stayed off his bed.
Damn.
The Old One is a genious.

Tonight I went to the worst play in America. And who'd have guessed it? It was right here in Farmville! Holy crap was it bad. It's called "Murderer" and if it plays in your town, dear god, please avoid it. The acting wasn't so bad... just the whole premise and writing of the play. Horrific. I wish I had been drunk. At more than one point, the lead was naked. I saw more ass-crack tonight than I have in my last 6 months of dating, collectively. The best part of the night were the tombstones in the lobby. These, at least, made me laugh.

This is a dangerous thing for me. I love pancakes. Seriously. It's big love. Dangerous love. And now that I can just pour water into this thing and have pancakes, I just might weigh 400 pounds.

Pooh King and I went color-hunting. It's starting to turn here, and we love it! We took a drive out to Twin Lakes State Park and travelled down various little lanes. It's getting pretty around here. Fall is my favorite season!
Meet my new boyfriend... Jim-bo the Fat Boy. I'm not being mean. That's really what his owner calls him. A patient set me up with a lady who needs her horse ridden more than she's able to. Today I went on an absolutely glorious ride. I met Diane, who owns Jim-bo's friend, Wilbur. (Again, not a joke.) We had a great time. Now I have another person bucking for me to stay in Farmville.


On my way home, I drove down "PoorHouse Road". I followed Papa, at roughly 15-20 miles per hour the entire way. He kept hitting his brakes to look at cows. For pete's sake, we're in Farmville. There are cows everywhere, Papa!! So, after a few minutes, I realized that those aren't poodles in the back... they're little old ladies!! Papa must be very popular at the nursing home. There were 3 little white haired ladies, and just one Papa. Bad ass.

I have a collection of notes. They are notes/letters/emails that people have sent or given to me over the years... I pull them out when I need a boost, whether it's personal or professional. They remind me of the things that I can so easily forget about myself. They bring me back to myself... back to the core of who I am. They are from family, friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, best friends, and some from new friends, patients or their families who haven't known me very long at all. But they are all precious. They are all important. They are all valued. They all travel with me from place to place, so I will always have them when I need them most. I'd like to say that there are so many that they require their own rubbermaid bin (XL of course!) and a small mule to tote them in and out of each apartment. But really, they stay in a folder that's tucked in a file that's stashed in a box that's kept in a closet. From time to time I get to add one, like I did this week. Doing that always makes me smile, usually tear up, and feel almost magical inside. These people get me. They understand who I am. They see past all the hoo-ha on the surface and into the inside. I wish all the people who have ever sent me these notes could know how much they mean to me. That I rely on them, the memories we've created, and the notes that remind me of it all.

Now, maybe the bigger problem is that I'm sitting on the couch at 9pm on Friday night. I've got to get a life.

You need to go here. My favorite? Click on A, then put the mouse over 6 and 7, and move it back and forth. I'm still snorting!

I forgot to post this last week...

Here is your horoscope for Thursday, October 12:

Home is where the heart is, which shocks you. After all, you're the epitome of a free spirit, and you're never more comfortable than when you're wandering. However, even you need a home base.

Hmmmmmm... an interesting horror-scope for the Wandering Girl.

Quotes of the Day

Discussion between college kid and her mother:
Patient's Mom: You know, you live close enough to here to walk to therapy.
Patient: Mom, if I could walk to therapy, I wouldn't need to be there.

Discussion with patient with Alzheimer's:
Tiffany: Okay, you need to remember to keep your body up straight.
Patient: You're expecting me to remember something? What a hoot!

Patient with balance problems after a stroke:
Patient: Why am I doing this again? (rocking forward and back on a rocker board with feet staggered front to back)
Tiffany: Because you have to work on using your legs to balance you when they're moving in different directions. Using slow reversals to control the speed that you're going will help you learn to rebalance, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.
Patient: Oh. I thought maybe I was going to learn to surf later.

I love my people!!!

It doesn't surprise me.

'What" will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

See? I'm famous. I don't even know Chuck Norris and he's going to miss me! (Pssssttt... I pinched it from Maigh.) And sorry about "their". I didn't do it. Stupid gender-non-specific tests!

whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

Okay, so I'm at work playing on the internet. I know it's wrong. Don't you judge me. Chances are, if you're reading this, then you're at work playing on the internet too.

So my question is, is my blog screwed up for anyone else? I posted last night and it looked fine from home. From here? Bizarro. No side bar, only 2-3 posts showing, and the last one ends in gibberish... which may be how my nights at the bar end, but not my blog. Usually.

Anyone? Anyone?

When good ninja cats go bad

So, rewind to the week before my brother's wedding. On Wednesday, the parental unit drove 7 hours to get from the farm to Farmville. (A little ironic, no?) The plan was to get to Farmville, go to dinner, get some rest, and hit the road Thursday morning, destination: Pittsburgh.

Right on schedule, the parental unit gets to Farmville. Now, Pooh King is very, very happy to see The Old One and The Oldest One. He dances. He wiggles. He spins in circles. He jumps in place and wags. Appropriate happy dog behavior. The Ninja Cat? She hides. She is petrified. She is the original 'fraidy cat. Sometimes-typical cat behavior.

We went to dinner at Charley's on the Waterfront. Yum! Got back to the apartment, watched a little television, and got ready for bed. Ma and Pa King? Sleeping soundly in the bedroom. Me? Trying desperately to sleep soundly on the couch. It's not going so well for our hero. I toss, I turn. I wish I was small enough to crawl in between my parents in bed, complain that I feel sick, and sleep as soundly as I did when I was 3. But I stay on the couch.

'Round about 2am, the ninja cat freaks out!!!!! I mean, obviously, evil was afoot in front of our building. She runs from window to window, meowing incessantly. I do the evil voice, I coo, I hold and pat, I threaten to throw that damn cat in the dumpster. Nothing. I get nothing in the way of a break. At 4am, I get so desperate, that I actually start looking out the windows. I mean, maybe she's trying to tell me something. Maybe Timmy is in the well. Maybe I should check. Is another building on fire? Is there a lurker outside? Have aliens invaded? Perhaps one of the dumpster cats has been mauled and has drug its bloody mauled body onto the porch in a desperate attempt to save itself. Or have me save it... but I am the cat lady, and I digress.

Nothing. As far as I can tell, there is nothing outside. No fire, no lurker, no aliens. Timmy may have been in the well, but I couldn't tell from the window. The ninja cat won't stop. So I step outside and expose myself to the lurker that may or may not be hiding in the bushes... and?

The cat runs out the door. No shit. 4am on the morning I'm to leave for my bro's wedding, and my cat has just run out the door! Shit! She hasn't been out since the day I pulled her out of the dumpster. She's afraid of new things. She's terrified of change. She's me in a cat suit.

So, what do I do? I take my pajama'd-barefoot-newly-pedicured-exhausted-from-lack-of-sleep-ass out the door after that cat. I literally chase the cat down a gravel path into the woods. INTO THE WOODS!!!! All the while, I'm thinking that the maybe/maybe not lurker is probably really a homicidal maniac that is waiting at the edge of the woods with an axe so he can chop me into tiny little bits and will feed the dumpster cats my bloody remains. (And by dumpster cats, I'm now including my returned-to-the-dumpster-ninja cat.) This clearly is not going to end well.

I briefly contemplate turning back to leave my parents a note so they will know what happened. I would hate to have them awake and start looking for me, only to find the couch empty and the ninja cat gone. I decide there is not time, and hot foot it down the path.

I spent 30 minutes calling that freakin' cat, barefoot on the gravel, waiting for a homicidal maniac to chop me up. It was quiet, dark with the eerie parking lot lights, and humid in the only-the-south-can-be-this-way kind of 4am heat. Even the dumpster cats came down to see what the hell was going on. Finally the ninja cat comes out of the woods. I tuck her under my arm and head back up the gravel path. Still barefoot. At least I hadn't been hacked into pieces.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the parental unit is sound asleep. After returning, ninja cat firmly in hand, I try to squeeze in what little sleep I could before it was time to hit the road to Pittsburgh. Yea, whatever. The cat picks up right where she left off, running from window to window, meowing her brains out. Finally she woke Mom up, and we figured we'd be best served by putting on a pot of coffee and starting our day. All told I got about 2 hours of sleep. It was a long trip to Pittsburgh!

Upon returning from the wedding on Sunday, weary and ragged from all the festivities and travel involved in such a weekend, all I wanted was some good sleep before going back to work. Onto the couch I went. Ma and Pa King had another full day of travel headed their way, and I had one freakin' freaked out ninja cat on my hands. Another night like the one before, except for the much-wiser me who wouldn't open the door to check for lurkers and be forced to run down a gravel path. I swear, I threatened to put her in the dumpster with my own two hands.

Whatever circus moved into the parking lot was gone after 3 days. And I would like to thank them. I have been sleeping great, and the ninja-cat has avoided the dumpster.

I'm tired tonight. I got nothin'. Off to bed with the dog, the cat, and the barefoot girl. (No fabulous shoes in bed, of course.)

This is a true story...

So today my brother came back from his honeymoon. He should be all calm, relaxed, and full of honeymoon bliss. So I call his cell phone to remind him that the honeymoon is over, he has to go to work tomorrow like the rest of us schmoes, and the mortgage is due. The following conversation happens:

ring ring

R: Hello?
me: Hello Jackass!!!!
R: Excuse me?
me: Who is this?
R: This is the customer service rep at the Delta Customer Service Center at the Pittsburgh Airport.
me: What are you doing with my brother's phone?
R: It was turned in at the airport. Do you know another way to get in touch with him to let him know?
me: Yea, I can take care of that for you.
R: That's great. Tell him we'll keep it until he can get it.
me: Okay. And I'm sorry about calling you a jackass. It's just that (attempts to launch into conversation about how I've called my brother Jackass for no less than 10 years)...
R: It's okay. It's not the first time that's happened today.

So I call Mom to ask her to call Erin (bro's new wifey) to tell her to tell Ryan where his phone is. 5 minutes later...

ring ring
me: Hi Mama
Mom: I told him. He didn't believe it.
me: Did you tell him to look for his phone?
Mom: Nope. I told him the bulge in his pocket wasn't his phone.

I freakin' love this family.

a random smattering

This is "The Breakup Cup". A select group of amazing women are in possession of such a cup, since I bestow them only on the most worthy. (And because after 3 I ran out, and haven't found them again.) Upon seeing it in my apartment, the following exchange occurs:

Mom: That's funny. You know it's going to take someone very special to love you, right?

Me: That was a foregone conclusion, Ma.

On our way to the wedding we stopped at a rest area in Virginia despite the signs that said "Temporary Toilets". Temporary toilets make me nervous. What if their tour-of-doody is over while I'm in there? I mean, really, Bobby could have hitched this thing up and hauled us right out of there.

And though temporary toilets are still a little scary, they were freakin' fantastic inside! It was a whole portable restroom, not just the toilets! Complete with running water. I'm thinking about obtaining one to haul with me around the country so I never have to stop at some stinking nasty gas station just because I have to pee.
We gave Bobby's Portable Restrooms a big thumbs up!

I had scrambled eggs with red and green peppers, mushrooms, turkey sausage and pepper jack cheese this morning. My own version of the Denny's Skillet Sensations. Delish! Isn't there some wives' tale about double yolked eggs? I think they're supposed to be lucky or something. I hope it's lucky. I don't want to take my chances with "something".

This is a true story from work. The orthotist/prosthetist from Lynchburg comes every Friday to work with various patients in our area so they don't have to haul it out of town. Jeff's a very nice guy and got me a fankle brace that is helping a lot, then wouldn't let me pay him for it. So, anyway, there's a patient with a new brace who can't find shoes that will accommodate the brace. Jeff volunteered to teach me how to measure the guy for shoes so he can order them before he(Jeff) returns next week (said patient wasn't there this Friday). So I pull my right shoe and sock off so I can get the visual on how this is done. Jeff picks my foot up to put it on the measuring plate, gently pats my ankle.

Jeff: That still just looks so painful!

Me: Um, Jeff, that's my cankle. The left ankle is the fankle.

Jeff: Oh. Sorry 'bout that.

And finally, one big gush about how much I love my iPod. Seriously. I don't think I've ever loved a gadget so much, barring my laptop, Mr. Miagi. I've had the iPod on shuffle since I got up this morning, and I'm hearing stuff I just love! A small list of artists I've heard this morning: Hootie and the Blowfish, Neil Diamond, Alanis Morisette, Willie Nelson, Della Reese, Snow Patrol, Toby Keith, Keb 'Mo, Five for Fighting, Shawn Colvin, Rob Thomas, Ani DiFranco, The Bellamy Brothers, Coldplay, Paul Simon, Terri Clark, Carbon Leaf, Big Head Todd and the Monsters, Sister Hazel... oh, I could go on, but you probably quit reading at Hootie and the Blowfish. Don't you judge me!

Dear Blog-readers who don't know me in real life,

There are some things about myself I need to explain.

1) I am insanely sarcastic sometimes. And that's no joke. Please, please, please don't take everything I say literally. Really, don't even take half of what I say seriously. Most people don't take anything I say seriously. Even when I'm being serious.

2) When I say "Don't you judge me," I don't really think you are judging me. In fact, I don't even worry about that at all. It's a line from "My Name is Earl" and it's not meant to be taken seriously. I'm very disappointed that YouTube doesn't have the exact clip. *shakes her head in disbelief*

3) I also say that monkeys might fly out of my butt. I'm not serious about this either. It's to point out that something else is very unlikely to happen. Example: Sure, I'll lick the bottom of that toilet seat, and then monkeys might fly out of my butt. Did you think I was serious? No? Good, just checking.

4) I am the crazy cat lady. There was a line on "My Name is Earl" tonight when a woman realized that about herself. She said, "Oh my god, I'm the cat lady." I figure, some day I'll be standing on the porch of my broke-down trailer, in the middle of 37 cats, shaking my fist at the paper boy for throwing my newspaper into the bushes. Again. And I'll yell "Hey, paper boy, if you do that again, I'm going to throw my ninja cat at your face" and then monkeys will fly out of my butt. It will look something like this...

Thank you for paying attention... if that pic didn't scare you off.

Hugs and kisses,

Tiffany

Mambo Mombo!!!!

She may not have quite busted a chickenwing, but that ol' Sal's got moves!!! (and in that first pic, she's got bags of cookies... hmmmm...)

Dancing with the boy-child

And the cha-cha with Donald. She just loves the cha-cha with Donald!!!

More from the rehearsal dinner.

He has arrived!

A mix of the Kings and the James.

The ceremony

Some things are just funny... like Dan eating moldy corn.



















The tent pre-decorating... and after












Dad and Dan figuring out the lay of the land.



And American Gothic, done TK and Manuel style! We're serious about having a damn good time.