Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Dear Tiffani

Talk about Gladitudes, I’m doing a major happy dance over here that you, my devoted reader and commenter are back! I realized you’d gone missing and was drafting a may day, “Where oh where can my Tiffani be, the internet took her away from me” post. While I’m glad I’ve got you back, I must inform you that you are an integral part of this blog. Seriously, all my (ok there's two) random stranger blog friends found me because of you. And should my blog ever be more than a good deed of the day read for the world, I will still need you. I’d miss you in a sea of comments and I’d come looking for you, because as independent as I am, when it comes to you and my blog it’s a major case of co-dependency. Ok, maybe not, don’t want to freak out any future readers, I’m not a stalker, really I’m not. But Tiff-Tiff, you’re special, you’re important…like so much so I’d change the blog to The Elizabeth Highsmith and The Tiffani. Bottom line, you can never leave me, ever, period, done deal.

Now if you’ll just sign on the dotted line……………………………………
all will be right and good in this fall freezing weather.


Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The sky is falling....

A forecast claiming 47 degrees and air that feels and smells like fall, I know that has the fall lovers running to buy pumpkins and frolicking through trees. Not this girl, no way, uh-uh not this house, I’m a spring and summer lover all the way. And I found summer on the bottom shelf of the freezer section at Kroger.

And we’ll be together, on my couch, mourning the loss of warmth and sun and long days and wide opens spaces and beach breezes and color. And we’ll scowl at the shorter days and we’ll rant and diatribe all day long about the danged ole mice and we’ll freeze and shake. We will however, eat and drink your fall treats and raid the children’s candy loot. Yet, all the while knowing that summer and spring reign the greatest, the best and that we belong together. Summer and I we're holding on, one spoonful at a time.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Waving Good Bye...

This weekend we celebrated. We celebrated thirty years of life. We celebrated with eating, with drinking, with laughing and talking. Like all good celebrations we celebrated with a party. We celebrated with friends, with family. We celebrated all the days gone by and all the days yet to be. And this afternoon as I stood in my driveway waving good bye to my best friend for the longest time, I was suddenly washed in a wave of sadness. Sad that our celebration had reached its end, yet with a heart so full from a splendid celebration. And as I stood sad and waving, it suddenly was there, Him, Jesus. And I was once again thankful that He never leaves me that He's always there.

Thank you Jesus, for always loving me, for never leaving me no matter what state I'm in. Thank you Jesus, for friends and their birthdays.....for life and life more abundant, for faithfulness and unending love. Thank you Jesus, that with you, I never have to wave good bye.

Monday, September 14, 2009

The Lost Art of The Letter

Dear Mac,
Some people think you're cute, I do too. But that's where the love stops. It's not working out between us. I want a divorce.

P.S. Please tell Steve I hope he chokes on an Apple.


Dear Martha,
Some people don't like you, probably because you went to j-a-i-l. I think they're afraid of your crafty powers. In fact I'm a little scarred of your mad decorating skills, but when I am in stores and see your ooddles of glitter, I think to myself, I like you Martha, I like you. Just thought you should know.


Dear Blogger,

Happy birthday. How about sharing some of that cake you're so proudly flaunting? And while I'm at it you're ten now how about letting us center our photos and edit our headers without needing an IT degree. I'm just saying it would be a nice party favor and all.


Dear Self,

Seriously groucho, are you campaigning to change our name to Grump and Frump? If you were a pentecostal you'd have to get saved again, possibly up to ten times a day. For the love of Pete and cracker jacks act like you love Jesus. Grumps has got to go. On to frump, if you have any aspirations of getting married for the love of all things cute get your freaking self out of the bed in the morning and vanquish frump by letting the universe know you care and that you own mascara and pretty clothes.


Dear Pentecostals,

Self has no hate for you only love.


Thursday, September 3, 2009

Would you like to value size that order?

Apparently, in order to be the cool kid on the blog, you're suppose to offer something of value to your readers. Or so says the Internet of wisdom. I'd offer you a value you size milk shake, but I can't I'm flawed, I'd drink it all by first key stroke. I'd offer you some crafty genius, but I'm afraid of crafts. Crafts require clutter and clutter makes me apprehensive. I think I may have subconsciously prayed I'd never be a scrapper. I'd lose it with all that stuff  invading my white space. And even if I was some crafty guru, or domestic goddess, I don't think I'm altruistic enough to give you the A to Z, soup to nuts, here's how to be cool like me stats. I'd be the braggadocios, look at me, look at me, stand in awe type.  So anyhoo, I think perhaps a blog about me, dedicated to me, self stating narcissism isn't extremely valuable reading. I could whine and mope like a fourth grader who routinely gets picked last for kick ball, over the lack of readers, but i'll spare you. Angelic, lone ranger Tiffani, God bless you.  My little self-absorbed, self adores you for faithfully reading, you were probably the sweet, cool kid who was nice to the nerdy kids.

I think the beauty of blogging is you can be you. And if you have one reader or one thousand, if you're the cool cat with the wit and glitter pen or the super nerd with the pocket lint chronicles, it's your blog and you can have it your way. So there's your value of the day. YOU, you're valuable, write out loud. Somebody cares about pocket lint....