All You Perverts

"All you perverts out there, keep it to yourself. I want something different, something exciting." - Michelle Rodriguez



I thought I wouldn't have to see anymore of Michelle Rodriguez's face since she was killed off on LOST, but now all the news is out about her DUI again. We didn't care before...why should we care now? Everytime she talks, it looks like she's eating her own face.
(Her mug shot. She's still all trashed.)

We Was Poor But We Had Love

Growing up, my family wasn't by any means wealthy. We rented (the horror) our house in an upperclass town. There were friends of mine that were only allowed to be my friend during school hours and I wasn't asked over to many people's houses. If I asked someone over, there was always some excuse why they couldn't make it. We could have used a maid and a landscaper. Our car color was "Bondo" and always at least 10 years old. My first bike was from a garage sale. My clothes were hand-me-downs from people who had the clothes as hand-me-downs.

But I didn't really get it. In fact, I didn't really understand that I was different until I was told, "My mom doesn't want me coming over because you don't live in a new house." I was once even accused of stealing my friend's toy because I was playing with it all day at recess and it came up missing later that day. (I'm not even sure what happened to it, but I hadn't taken it...I only steal gum.) I'm not going to say I wasn't taken care of, but there WERE times when I wore the same thing two days in a row, or went to school with bed head. If it wan't for my reduced lunch ticket, I probably wouldn't have eaten lunch every day. But there were SIX children. My parents both worked their asses off. My older brothers and sisters thought of me as one of their chores. And my little brother and I were on our own at an earlier age than normal. Half of my life in that town, I felt less than most of my peers. What amazes me still is that most of the teasing and dirty looks I received were fudamentally from parents and people who were old enough to know better, like my teachers. Am I that naive to still be so surprised at all the hatred and judgmental assholes in the world? An example of how it was in my town: One of my good friends was with her mother at the grocery store and asked why an African American couple had a "dirty baby".

I've always said I wouldn't have wanted my parents' financial status to be any different. I learned so many things and values BECAUSE we were of lower income. My own parents (now close to a 6 figure income) never measured a person's worth by how much they had in their bank account. They are the same people they were before (maybe fighting a little less...Just a little). And I certainly wasn't brought up to think any differently of someone just because they've never driven a Benz. Britain, I hope will turn out with the same mentality as well.

When I Was Just A Little Girl

Today is my 28th birthday. Over the weekend, I went out with my family (and close friends who were given minutes notice) to the Fox N Hound. It was a pretty good time, and we didn't pay 125 bucks like the group who blocked off half the room. For some reason their party only went until 10:30 while mine went well over midnight. Britain came for an hour of so and then my boss was nice enough to watch her (sleep in her carseat). I was garnished with beautiful, thoughtful gifts and cards while I felt very loved.

Matt's father (holding his hands over his ears) had heard enough from Matt's mother (in black).





Best friends Tam, Mary and Jillian

Matt and his father.

No introduction necessary.









My cousin Mike with my best friends and I.


Tam, Mary, Kevin and Jillian








So, today is my ACTUAL celebration, if you call laundry, vacuuming and barely being able to brush my teeth let alone shower a celebration. No matter. The worst thing about today is on previous birthdays, I can remember wearing brand new sun dresses, shorts, tank tops, sandals, bathing suits. I remember my 13th birthday party at the beach. I remember skinny dipping for my 15th. I remember camping out under the stars for my 17th. And here I am ten years later in a sweatshirt, jeans and winter socks. ITS 52 DEGREES! Can someone explain Global Warming to me please because I'm just not understanding the definition this year?

Celebrities who share my birthday: (these links aren't fun...don't bother clicking on them)

Henry Fonda born on May 16, 1905
Pierce Brosnan born on May 16, 1953
Mare Winningham born on May 16, 1959
Rosie Perez born on May 16, 1963
Janet Jackson born on May 16, 1966
Scott Reeves born on May 16, 1966
David Boreanaz born on May 16, 1971
Tori Spelling born on May 16, 1973
Melanie Lynskey born on May 16, 1977


For a long time, my birthday was a horrible reminder of my failed relationship with my ex. There was an incident on my actual birthday that started the crumbling of my already failing marriage. But now, I can look back on that year as a true birth for me. I was born into the woman I was supposed to be. And now, I'm much stronger, happier and healthier for it.

So, today I DO celebrate. Thanks Mom and Dad for having the sex like rabbits in the Fall of '77 and for reminding me every year that I was conceived in the back of a station wagon. Damn, life is good.

Viewer Discretion

To the creators, writers, producers and anyone else working on the Fox Television show, HOUSE:

In my opinion, the words "viewer discretion advised" did not fully warn your viewers of what was to come in your episode that aired Tuesday, May 9, 2006. I am especially referring to the the first few scenes where a baby was lying at the bottom of a full bathtub, in which I almost lost my dinner after attempting to gouge out my eyes in trying to erase the aforementioned image from my mind. Flashbacks of Trainspotting went through my head as well. Not only did you scare the shit out of me in the beginning, but you shocked me again when I thought for sure the coast was clear. You showed the same baby being smothered by its own mother, and then proceeded to kill it off at the end of the hour because of the same incident. If ever you feel the need to air such horrific depictions again, may I make a suggestion to include "mothers, women, children, people with a soul, people with eyesight, people who ever saw, smelled, touched, or heard a baby and Tammy Ames" in your warning as well.

Thank you for your time and your sick, twisted talents.

Tammy Ames

(who is a mother, woman, child, has at least half a soul, is possibly legally blind but can still make out a dead baby, and smells, sees, touches and hears her own sweet baby everyday)

I Watch It Every Time Its On Cable

(Possibly the worst poem ever used in a movie) "These things are good: ice cream and cake, a ride on a harley, seeing monkeys in the trees, the rain on my tongue, and the sun shining on my face. These things are a drag: dust in my hair, holes in my shoes, no money in my pocket, and the sun, shining on my face."


I found this site while trying to find the poem from The Mask with Cher. Its pretty entertaining, especially on a Monday morning.

R.E.M.

I've been having the strangest dreams lately. A few weeks back, there was a "horrible" tornado (that was barely a foot high) that killed off most of my town, including Matt and Britain. The strangest part was all I could think about was how I'd have to start all over and find another family.

Then, a few nights later I had a dream I was visiting Kristen and Ray. We were all making dinner in the kitchen and Ray stepped out (to poop or something) and Kristen gives me that "we need to talk" look. "Ray's pregnant!" It was true. Ray got knocked up. And now Kristen was going to be stuck raising it. She sobbed uncontrollably and I didn't know what to say to console her.

Last night, the strange dreams continued. I dreamt that Tom and Katie had a house here in Erie. (Katie's parents are actually from Toledo, Ohio but in my dream they had a house right next to Pat Monahan's family.) So, I showed up for an interview because they needed a nanny. The house was much cozier than I'd expected. And Kat had no idea what she was doing! She tried giving the poor baby the nipple upside down and asked me for help changing its diaper. I didn't even wait for them to hire me. I just started working for them out of sheer pity. Leave it to me to not even negotiate my salary first!

EmoGrrl27

So I, loser with no alternate plans, had to work over the weekend. I brought Britain with me because Matt went out for the first time in 3 years. The girls were awesome and actually went to bed with NO hassles. So, after Brit went to sleep herself, I was left to my own devices. I'm not really sure how many of you actually watch live TV on Saturday nights, but it blows. Even with HBO, it blows. So there I was stuck watching Celebrity Cooking Showdown on NBC. Unfortunately (SDC) I had missed the first few shows and only caught the finale...And got to see who was crowned "master of the kitchen". Um, the choices were Miss America, leather face (Cindy Margolis) and the chick from OTown. So, really why did I continue to watch? This seemed to be the theme of the night: "Why am I still watching this?" After that, it was Law And Order (enter sound effect here). The first five minutes kept me intrigued because Elizabeth Berkley was a special guest (When I wake up in the morning, my alarm...) and Annabella Sciorra looked as if she just celebrated her 90th birthday. And by the way... So, the story is pretty bad and yet, its 45 minutes into the show and I haven't even moved. Finally, after realizing I'm watching the news and becoming current on events (the horror!) I switch over to WB because in fifteen minutes, there was to be two really great half hours of Yes Dear, or something equally as shitty. I just had to get through the last half of the "to be announced" show, which I assumed was either going to be an infomercial or a really long commercial about BAM Easy Off oven cleaner. I was wrong.

It started out with Britain's doppleganger. He had all her features except that this little guy was at least 18 months. He was in a hospital bed so right away, I assumed it was a fundraiser type thing. Just then, St. Jude's number pops up on the screen. His name was Ben. He did cute little things like call giraffe's "jawavs" and told you where his ears were. Then his father starts narrating. "Ben will start hitting his head over and over from the pain and in the middle of all of it, he'll look at you with the biggest smile." Then they went on about how he had a brain tumor and how he was going through chemotherapy because they couldn't use radiation on him because of his age. As if that weren't enough (and I hadn't went through a box of tissues already) they then went back to the father as he said, "Ben is dying. We are just getting in all the time and love we can from him because once the medicine stops working, he'll slip away."

Well, at that point my boss comes home and probably wondered what the hell the girls had put me through that night. It wasn't TOO embarrassing, but I honestly couldn't stop sobbing for a bit. As I was explaining what I was watching, they ended his story with his outcome: his mother was holding him while he passed away and his father, big brother and grandparents were all in the room with him. UGGHHH!

It really made me appreciate how lucky Matt and I are that Britain is healthy and happy and that we'll more than likely see her through many, many events in her life. It made me think of my Grandfather (lately, a lot has) and how he left this world. And it just made me feel unusually gifted in general that I am living the life I am.

And that I got paid.

Silly Rabbit

Until Britain can pick out her own clothes, she is stuck with what I put her in. Here she is on Easter.

Gina And A Bottle

Kristen and I started getting ready to go out around 7. I crafted my hairstyle after watching A Super Sweet Sixteen Marathon on MTV that afternoon. And Kristen DID NOT opt for the two bun! We made Ray our Cinderella and do little things for us like fetching bobby pins and cleaning the bathroom when we were through. We were all ready to go on time. Kristen and I planned on meeting Gina at 9:30 Saturday night at this gay bar, which in actuality, it was a mini-bar, a major bar and a tiny room where they sold candles and sour patch kids (because people are bringing their children?). And they are open until 3 am. We followed our gaydar and had no problems finding the place, although not so much luck finding parking.

Some of you may ask, "Tam why do you always go to gay bars when you go out?" Actually, I don't: only when I'm out with Kristen. But there are lots of advantages to going to a gay bar. There are a lot less rules. There isn't some drunk dude rubbing his junk all up in your trunk, in which I have to start throwing ice from my drink at him. (Dave, I know you can appreciate THAT one.) There is usually a really great surprise or unbelievable thing that happens before the night is over. But most importantly, I always have more fun hanging out with homosexuals. They are good people, extremely accepting, and will tell me if my bag doesn't go with my shoes.

So we get there and Gina is waiting. She is even more adorable in person. And she has this slight underbite thing I've always loved. (I lack in the jaw/chin department and if ever I was to go under the knife, it would be for chin implants). I felt comfortable with her right away, especially since the third word she ever said to me was "fucking".

We started drinking in the mini-bar because the major bar hadn't opened yet. When you ask for shots at this place, apparently they think you mean half the bottle, but no matter! We knew we might want to slow it down when Jay Leno's bit on a talking camera machine came on the video screens and we all almost fell out of our chairs. Finally, the main bar opened up (thanks for covering my cover, Gina!) and we picked a booth way up top. We knew there would be a drag show a little later and wanted a comfy seat. I originally hadn't brought my camera in, but I decided to go get it after all the drinking and whatnot. Here are some "already toasty" shots:

Finally, the drag show started. I decided not to post a lot of the pictures I took, mainly because the girls I nanny sometimes frequent this site and although they can't read most of the text, they can certainly see pictures and wouldn't understand what a naked drag queen was. Let's just say, we got a lot for our 3 dollar cover.

After the show, the stage opened up and everyone started dancing. It was a great time, although we are officially old because we left by 12:30.

When I we got back, Kristen made me eggs and toast and I called Matt and told him I missed him and I loved him and blagvh esdfh soo much. I went to sleep with the Super Sweet Sixteen theme song dancing in my head.

Poetic Waxing

Saturday morning, I couldn't sleep. I guess I was too excited? I awoke at 6am, layed in bed, just thinking about all the shit I had to drag to Cleveland that morning. I wanted to miss the usual Saturday afternoon traffic and made a goal to leave by 8. I hopped in the car, bagel in mouth, and was on the road by 7:15.

I called Kristen on the way. We chatted about who had more horrible drivers, Ohio or PA? We spoke a little about Ray's new news. And we got into the conversation about child rearing do's and do not's before entering a bad service area. I made it there in record time and was able to take Kristen to her 8:45 hair and eyebrow wax.

"You realize this will probably take more than an hour?" Kristen said this as we are pulling up to the place and there really wasn't a way out. I "dropped" her off and walked up the street for some morning brew (coffee-like drink for her, chai for me). It was so damn cold I'm glad I didn't ask for a cup carrier because the drinks were the only thing keeping me warm. I returned and the hairstylist looked at me strange when I walked up to Kristen to give her the cup.

"I'm Kristen's assistant." When she wanted to know my ACTUAL name, I jokingly told her "You're only supposed to call me 'the assistant'", and I sat down with my tail between my legs. It was extra funny to me because in my humble opinion, the hairdresser didn't seem too witty and didn't even really get the joke.

An hour later, I decided I wanted an eyebrow wax as well. It was my first time and thankfully she was gentle. It was 2 1/2 hours total when we were finally done. After we tipped and left, I asked Kristen if it was normal for the waxer to be so close when waxing and plucking. Kristen, too, had the same experience that morning and admitted she wasn't sure if the waxer just wanted to wax or also make out. All in all, it was a great start to a wonderful, stress free Saturday.

More to come about our trip to the bar Saturday night. Blogger has been unbelievably cooperative when it comes to uploading pictures (Sarcasm Doesn't Convey).