Here Comes the Tiff Attack

 

Rawr!

Hello, hello. Tiff here. (I was going to go as far as to even give you a last name but Christine seems to have forgotten to give me one of those. But that’s all right, first names are more fun anyways, right?) Despite not being given a last name (yet), I was very excited to hear Cyrus’s idea of helping our author out a bit with this blogamajig. Being one who is a bit of a poet. . .well, that’s too strong of a word I think, more like one who likes to scribble verses down every now and again, I know what an annoyance it can be when you just want to write and have too many other things going on. There sure isn’t no pause button for your muse, that much is certain.

So what should I talk about? Don’t tell Cyrus and Isaac I’m peeking at their posts for ideas. . .

Looks like they just talked about themselves. Well, I can do that. Funny how easy it is to talk about one’s self, isn’t it? What does that say about humans? We’re quite the silly things.

Myself. . . Well, let’s see. I live with just my Grams. I wouldn’t say life for us has been all candy and cake, but God sees us through every bit of it. I don’t think I have a right to complain or anything. At least we’ve got each other, that’s more than a lot of people can say. I suppose I already mentioned I like jotting down poetry. I think my favorite thing is just those quiet moments in life, where there’s nothing to do but think. I like thinking. That’s when I come up with my poems, or just reflect on life. But that doesn’t mean I enjoy solitude all the time. A good dose of people can be the best medicine you get. Especially people who make you laugh. I think every person should have someone that makes them laugh. I know you’ve already met Cyrus and Isaac, they’re both good at that, making people laugh. They’re great to have as friends. I think you’ll be meeting Elan soon, he mentioned he hopes to get his turn in at some point. He’s a fun guy as well.

Oh, Christine said I should mention that my family is from Canada. I don’t really know why. Apparently Canadians are cool or something. I wouldn’t really know. I’ve lived in a city stuffed inside a big ol’ cube all my life. Grams seems to think it’s important that I know my roots, but we’re all just human inside the Cube, doesn’t seem to matter what race you are. We’ve all got two arms and legs, right? But I am Canadian, if you’re really interested. And I do enjoy ketchup, not that we get it much inside the Cube. Not exactly tomato plants growing off the walls. But what I really like is Asian food. There’s this little Asian restaurant around the corner of our old apartment I used to visit, when I had enough chips to pay for a plate of fried rice that is, which didn’t happen as often as I liked. But when it did, it was magnificent! If I wasn’t stuck inside a Cube, I’d pack my bags and head straight for China. Ya know, if it hasn’t been destroyed. There’s a reason we’re inside a cube. But I won’t get into that.

And I highly doubt all you lovely people popped over on Christine’s blog to read about my food tastes. What can I say? Food has my heart. I’m only human after all. What’d you expect?

Did I tell you about this bakery a couple of blocks down from where I used to live?

. . . . . . . . . .

Just kidding! I’m done discussing food. I promise. (But there really was a bakery.)

All right, guys. You’ve got to get my mind off food, and I can’t think of anything interesting to say about myself so I’m handing it over to you. Ask questions. Ramble about architecture. Tell me your views on mismatched socks. Anything works for me! I love talking with new acquaintances. So chat away!

Tiff Unknown-Last-Name is off for now!