Friday, March 4, 2011

how to tell if your brothers were the last ones to take a bath

After a brief ninja-pose routine in front of the bathroom mirror (no, you cannot has pictures), I decided now would be a good time to update you Sharpies on, y'know, stuff.


So, I went to take a shower, right, because that's what I do, and lo and behold: a ring 'round the tub. Unlike the Cat in the Hat's bathtub ring (which was pink), this one was a nice, inch-wide ring of grime. Definitely boys. Nothing a good rinse wouldn't wash away.


I've been writing, lately. Nothing concrete, no finished product I could show you, but bits here and there: sentences, miniature stories.
One question I've been asking people is this: If you had to pick one moment of your life, a story of you that encapsulates who you are and defines you now, what story would you tell?

It's a hard question.
I don't think I have such a story. Or, if I do, I can't recall it well enough to tell, or I won't confront it to know. Besides, I'm perfectly content with telling other people's stories.

Do you have a defining life story? Maybe nothing big and fancy, maybe no top-of-Mt.-Everest epiphany moment, maybe just a short scene in which you thought, "Yep, that's my life."
You know what you should do? Email me. Or formspring, if you want to be anonymous. (Links in the sidebar to the left.) Or leave a comment.


reading: An Abundance of Katherines by John Green; To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf; and Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
loving: the feed your soul art project by indie fixx. I've already printed out several of my favorites, and plan to go to the thrift store tomorrow for some cheap frames.
listening: Daft Punk's album Discovery
resolving: to work out next week, at least once.
playing: Words with Friends (my handle is d3lv, if you're up for a game)
sleeping: Ha, very funny. (Not very much, that's for sure.)

Sweet, my Droid just updated!

1 comments:

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who i am!

Tiph used to be this weird hippie chick who sewed things and drank tea and rode bikes and wrote silly things. Then, college came along, and now she's this weird hippie chick with math in her brain and notebooks full of indefinite integrals. And hardly any time to write. This is her space. Thankfully, space is a vacuum and any complaints you may have cannot be heard.

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