Tra-la-la-la-la

Life is so wonderful. I just spent a lovely afternoon on a Starbuck's patio drinking an iced caramel machiato with soy, and reading "The Catcher in the Rye." I know I'm abusing my budget, but it was such a warm day, and I was jonesing for some Buckie's. Actually, warm is a bit of an understatement. I was sweating, and believe me, I rarely sweat. If anything, I lightly perspire, seeing as how I'm a classy lady. I even got to break out the big, bug-eyed sunglasses. Sometimes I feel as if I look a little pretentious and unapproacable when I wear them, but ho-hum, I think they're adorable. After my lazy afternoon, I went for a nice, long walk just for the sake of walking. Some very exciting news: I am about to take upon myself the strenuous task of becoming bilingual. I enrolled in Spanish 101 for my first term of university, sort of on a whim. I really wanted to carry on with French, considering I've taken french classes since I was about 8 years old. Unfortunately all French classes were full, so Spanish it was. This year is all about new experiences anyways, as is this blog. I need to write about something interesting, if you find second languages as fascinating as I do. Although, I find most thing fascinating. The world fascinates me (an unintentional Andy Warhol quote for you right there.) Boy, do I ever write a lot of my ideas in parantheses. Oh well, I quite enjoy brackets. They give my blog a certain "je ne sais quoi." Oh, how I will miss le Francais, but I can brush up on my irregular verbs from home. Speaking of home, I found a new place! Goodbye temporary living arrangements, hello freedom! Although, freedom comes with a price. A.k.a. the shower is in a closet. Yes, a closet. But I do love my quirky little dwelling, because it is mine, all mine, and by "all mine" I mean "rented," but close enough. Well that's all for now darlings. Au revoir, or adios I suppose.

Tiff xoxox

Seeking is the Antithesis of Happiness

"As soon as something is perceived, it is named, interpreted, compared with something else, liked, disliked, or called good or bad by the phantom self, the ego. They are imprisoned in thought forms, in object conciousness." -Eckhart Tolle

Love at First Hike

I am having a marvelous time exploring the many mountain trails near my temporary home. I must admit, I've lost all exercising fervor since my days as a national gymnast. However, hiking doesn't even feel like work! It was so beautiful and refreshing to be surrounded by nature that I barely even noticed myself breaking a sweat until I reached my set destination. What a relief to be getting back into shape! My tiny, yet visible paunch is so thankful that it is melting with enthusiasm. Besides the wonderful surroundings, I was pleasantly surprised to discover an array of friendly folks, or as I like to call them, my "mountain people," on the trails as well. Finally, a workout that doesn't inspire me to give up and pack 'er in. I'm also looking forward to my first ballet class. Hey, you're never too old to start, and besides, that's what this whole change of scenery is about: new life experiences. I can see myself now; elegant, poised, very Audrey Hepburn-esque. Hello Julliard!

Tiff xoxox

Struggling Student in Need of Shoe Addiction Therapy

Why are they so pretty? I can't help but want them badly enough to buy them the next time I'm out shopping...

Hey, what is tutition money for?

I might be in trouble here people. I'm having difficulty curbing my shopping habits and I just got here! Oh well, one more pair couldn't hurt!

Don't talk me out of it, Tiff xoxox

For Those of Us Who Enjoy Witty Humor

It just so happens that I was raised by the grammar police (aka my mother), and I am well aware of the dashed hopes and dreams that ensue when ending a sentence with a preposition. This morning I received the following email from my mother (how appropriate), and I thought I'd share it with the blog world...

On his 74th birthday, a man got a gift certificate from his wife. The
certificate paid for a visit to a medicine man living on a nearby
reservation that was rumored to have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction. After
being persuaded, he drove to the reservation, handed his ticket to the medicine
man and wondered what he was in for. The old man slowly, methodically
produced a potion, handed it to him, and with a grip on his shoulder, warned,
"This is powerful medicine and it must be respected. You take only a teaspoonful
and then say '1-2-3'. When you do that, you will become manlier than you have ever
been in your life and you can perform as long as you want."

The man was encouraged. As he walks away, he turned and asked, "How do I stop
the medicine from working?" "Your partner must say '1-2-3-4,' he
responded. "But when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon." He was very eager to see if it worked so he went home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and then invited his wife to join him in the bedroom. When she came in, He took off his
clothes and said, "1-2-3!" Immediately, he was the manliest of men. His wife was excited and began throwing off her clothes. And then
she asked, "What was the 1-2-3 for?"

And that, boys and girls, is why we
should never end our sentences with a preposition, because we
could end up with a dangling participle.

Well, I think its extremely hilarious, but I tend to be a bit nerdy when it comes to jokes. Hope you got a kick out of it too!

Tiff xoxox

In Pursuit of Extraordinary Happenings

Now that I have a moment, allow me to share with you a few of the enlightening experiences I've had in the past week since moving. Number one: I got lost downtown, at night, alone. Now this wouldn't have been an issue back home in my small town, but in a big city and a bad area, it is more than just an issue. It is absolutely terrifying. After getting hit on by several homeless men, and being scoped out by a few addicts who were in great need of change, I wandered over to a busy street corner and prayed to God I would not be mistaken for a hooker (my shorts were entering that territory I'm afraid). A Mexican "gangsta" type of short stature even touched my back and asked me if I was waiting for someone, to which I replied, "Yes, my boyfriend." This was, of course, a flagrant lie. I was very much alone and very much afraid in knowing that naivety comes as a package deal with my small-town roots. However, in hopes of leading the city folk astray, I walked with the confidence of someone born and raised in a power suit. Thankfully, and I really do mean it with all the gratitude in the world, a friend of mine who happens to be living here for the summer was able to find me and save me from my misery. He is certainly the closest thing I have to a knight in shining armor at this point, in a land where public transit serves as the noble steed and castles become towering skyscrapers. An amusing analogy, however unecessary. Now, onward with the good(ish) stuff. Number two: I was invited by a couple new aquaintances to do mushrooms and subsquently follow Bob Ross in a paint-along. Now, if you don't know who Bob Ross is, allow me to enlighten you. Bob Ross created and hosted the show "The Joy of Painting" on some obscure television channel from the early 1980's until the early 1990's. During each half-hour program, Ross would freestyle oil-paint landscapes as he encouraged viewers to paint their own masterpieces at the same time. Sounds less than threatening, except for the fact that the man had an oldschool orange afro and described everything he was painting as "happy" and "little". For example: "Now I will paint a happy, little rock." Now, as far as I know, rocks can be little, but I can't say I have ever seen one rock with a more cheery disposition than any other rock. But then again, I am part of the wrong species to make such a judgement. Anyways, as it would turn out, I do not do drugs and I politely declined, although I did invite myself over to watch two guys on mushrooms painting in time with Bob Ross because, I mean, who in their right mind would ever pass up that opportunity? Well that's all for now kids. Profound enough for you? No, me neither. Oh life, and the beautiful ,wretched clutch you have on my soul. Talk to you when I actually have something legitimate to write.

Tiff xoxox

Bonne Soir!

Seeing as how I have just moved to a new and beautiful city, which will remain unamed due to privacy issues, (however, I'll tell you that it's close to the ocean!) I am simply brimming with a new-found energy and sense of being. I'm aware of how cliche that may sound, but I am genuinely feeling that whole "new city, new life" vibe that you see in the movies. And therefore, with my "new life energy" in full supply, I have decided to create a blog documenting my thoughts, opinions, desires, loves, and life experiences as I leave the nest, attend an intimidatingly large university, and attempt to live independently for the first time in my 18 year-old life. Hopefully we're both in for nothing less than a profound journey! Wish me luck!!!

Bonne Nuit, Tiff xoxox