dear readers,

Hi. I don't know how you made it to my blog, but I am glad that you did. I've always wanted to share my stories and luckily, for all of us, one special person gave me the final push I needed to do the damn thing.

My life is far from perfect. There are struggles and there are tears and there are times when I'm not proud of myself. Sometimes I'll tell you about that, but mostly I prefer not too. I prefer to find the humor in things and it gets weird, it does. It gets vulgar and it gets silly and I have no problem raving about how wonderful my boyfriend is. And how insane my cat is. I like cats and I like my boyfriend, so I talk a lot about them. And I like it that way. I hope you do too.

This isn't a big blog and it probably never will be, but I hope that you find something here that makes you laugh or inspires you. I've been inspired by so many blogs and ladies and I am forever grateful that I took up this weird hobby. Readers, friends...may I call you friends? Friends, the fact that you visit us, some of you every single damn day, it warms my cold little heart in such a way I never knew possible. So thank you. Thank you for making my life feel so much more interesting and important than I ever imagined. All seven of you, friends.

Just kidding. I hope I have more than 7 readers. At least I know I do in Russia (no, I'm still not over that and I won't be any time soon so LEAVE ME BE).

always truly,

tiff gee.

Day 27 - A letter to your readers.

tiff gee smash!

Day 24 — Your top 3 worst traits.



I feel like "top 3" insinuates that I have more than 3 and we all know I don't. 
There's one.
Because I have skipped most of the "challenging" posts, this one is my tough one. My instinct is to take the easy way out and be all I CARE TOO MUCH. And although I certainly do, there are far more interesting traits to explore.

1. I overanalyze and usually falsely predict outcomes of situations. This probably has something to do with my chronic habit of making up stories about strangers. But this is how my mind works: I will make a decision to do or not do something (usually pertaining to my friends and family) and then I will imagine all of the shit they are going to talk about me or what they are going to think of me. This often leads to a whole mess of anxiety and then it all spirals out of control. I know at the end of the day I shouldn't care but it is natural to not want people to talk about you or judge you for your decisions. Obviously.
2. I care too much. I AM SO NOT EVEN JOKING. I typically (sometimes unwillingly) take on the role of "Momma Bear" and either defend people or coach them on how to defend themselves. Here is my best and most/least favorite example of this in action  — Once upon a time my little sister's asshole ex-boyfriend attended a dance recital she was performing in. He sat a few rows in front of us and him and his friends kept turning around and I will still swear to this day that they were looking at me. So my ass gets up and walks up to him and gets all ghetto like, "SAY IT TO MY FACE!" And he had no idea what I was talking about and then I pulled a total Lauren Conrad and was all, "YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID." I'm pretty sure my sister hated me for a few weeks. Either way, I wasn't just going to sit there and let this moron potentially talk shit about me. And I wanted him to fear us so he would never hurt my sister again even thought it was none of my bid'ness.
3. I have a genetic disorder called "The Smith Girl Temper." This disorder affects all females on my mom's side of the family. TSGT usually begins with flying off the handle about something minuscule, turning complete incredible hulk and letting MEAN insults fly, and then enacting the silentest silent treatment humanly possible which is incredible after the level of volume my voice gets to. Guys, I get mean when I am really angry about something and it is not pretty.

And there you have it. The moral of this post is to not ever piss me off.

I feel like that was far too serious of a post for a Friday...so I am going to leave you with one of the most obnoxious pictures of myself I could find on Facebook as my penance for the above 3 asshole-ish traits.

and doin' it well.

Day 6 - What do you do?

I love Justin.  I provide guardianship to jmeoww. In return she lords over me. I act as a responsible and rational family member. Most of the time. I give advice to people that sometimes want to hear it, and sometimes don't. I compulsively online-window shop. I plan. I worry. I enable. I dance in the kitchen.  I dance in the car. I drink beer. I make up stories about strangers. I lose my soul in music. I obsess over trivial things. I make lists. I overreact. I bite my nails. I get weird. I crush candy. I judge. I people-watch.

I'm a quote-a-saurus

Day 4, Saturday: Favorite quote (from a person, from a book, etc) and why you love it

I am a chronic quote collector. Big, little, strong, or simple reminders of things tend to resonate deeply with me and I never want to forget these things. For today, I held back and chose just one.

And I refuse to elaborate because the profoundness will be lost.

Now go have a real Saturday.

Um, a double post. hi!

So in order to catch up, and also to avoid abusive text messages from SOMEONE whose name rhymes with CLAY, I am double-posting.

Day 3 – Things that make you uncomfortable.

Whooooa, boy. Hi, have you met me? Double-blog posting makes me uncomfortable, for starters. Let's just make a damn list...

Farting in front of Justin 

Unintentional racism

Men with too short of shorts 

Crowds

Finances

Homeless people

Male Strippers

Nipples

Balls

I'm not just listing body parts, I swear

Nasty rap lyrics (but I will sing them)

Correcting people (Hi, core job function!)

People that are unaware of their body odor

Mouth-breathers

Talking about exes

Telling people to get their shit together

Should this have been alphabetical?

Asking for help

People celebrating/acknowledging me

Babies

Small people in general

Prolonged eye contact

Canned chicken

And I think that is all. I hope that is all. Forgetting things also makes me uncomfortable. 

Too much about me...but for us.

If one of your favorite people in the world challenges you to do something that can only better yourself, you should probably do it. Especially if it gives you the opportunity to learn so much more about your friends, and if it challenges you to push your normal writing boundaries. Learning. Feelings. Writing. That is what blogland should be about. And also cats.

Because of this, I am going to try my best to participate in this...



Will I hit every day? Probably not. I mean I already missed two days and will be making up for it. Will it annoy the hell out of you? Most likely. I don't mind if you don't want to read more about me. Because, frankly, I don't even like writing about me that much. HENCE THE CHALLENGE.
Ahem. Without further hesitation...The May 1st challenge was "your life story in 250 or less." 

The Story Of Tiff Gee, as told by Tiff Gee.

My dad thought I was a boy when I was born. I was such a quiet child that my mom used to tell me to TALK LOUD LIKE THIS. I am my mother’s middle-birth so I consider myself a middle-child even though there are 4 of us. I was a really intelligent kid, “gifted” if you will. Also tall, lanky, and brace-faced. And really shy so people assumed I was a snob. Whatever. The town I grew up in was not necessarily small but lacked great career opportunities, unless you want to work at a dairy. Sorry if you work at a dairy. I moved to San Diego for college and lived alone in a studio on the back of someone’s property. It was weird and once I thought I was getting mugged and ran down the street. The nice man apologized for scaring me. I got a job at SeaWorld, my dream employer, when I was 19. Age 20 was the first time I thought I lost my mind. I asked my doctor for pills so that would never happen again. It still occasionally happens. My early to mid-twenties were wrapped in the relationship that I thought I was supposed to have, and by my late twenties I left said relationship because I wanted to. After two years of failed reconnections with exes, an inappropriate amount of alcohol, a feral cat adoption, and many, many tears things came together. I crashed a company Christmas party and smiled at Justin. And he smiled back.

254. Almost nailed it.

all about me...

Shanna from Flip Flop Life and Lisa from One Red Shoe were kind enough to nominate me for a Liebster Award. Which means I still have less than 200 followers. Just kidding. It means they are incredibly sweet and now I have to tell you things about myself.

Rather than list 22 things and answer 22 questions, I will be kind and only make you read 11 random facts about me. Because I am a rebel and also it has been a while since I played this game.

1. I've read blogs longer that I've had one. Just call me the hipster of blogging. Seven years, to be exact. My first blog was Dooce and I still read it every day. Heather Armstrong taught me it was okay to talk about mental illness in a public place. And she taught me the beautiful art of elaborate storytelling.
2. I was a camp counselor. For children. I taught children things. This still amazes me. I would probably be a teacher if I didn't have to go back to school and also if California wasn't firing teachers every few months.
3. I have a minor addiction to crime documentaries and real-life crime shows. The reenactments are pure gold. I often fall asleep to these at night, which probably isn't healthy.
4. One of my all-time favorite beers flavors is green-chile. Yea, spicccccy. I thought it only existed in Colorado until I recently discovered it in San Diego and my life was forever changed.
5. I really, really, really love Kanye West.
6. I have 3 tattoos.
7. I'm not good at making lists about myself. OKAY I AM CHEATING.
8. David Sedaris is one of my all-time favorite authors. Talk about the fine art of storytelling — his writing style is something I aspire to. His newest book comes out next week!
9. I have an irrational fear of things starting on fire. Like a coffee machine, or crock pot. So when I start my morning coffee and then go take a shower, the entire time my brain is thinking that the coffee pot somehow malfunctioned and now the apartment is burning down and jmeoww can't alert Justin because I've shut the bedroom door so I don't wake him up BUT AT LEAST I WILL BE CLEAN.
10. I have an irrational hatred of beans. Except for green beans and soy beans. I can't be around beans of any other kind. They disgust me. I am sure they taste great to you. To that I say, you and your beans can get a room.
11. I still watch cartoons. Not that Adventure Time horseshit. The Cleveland Show is where it's at.

If I could properly express to you how difficult those 10.5 facts were to divulge, I would. Apparently I don't like writing about myself...let's psychologize on that for a moment...Not really. Let's laugh at this totally douchey picture of me instead.

And there you have it. This is all me in one weird little nutshell. 

Thanks again for the nominations, ladies!

Ladies Can Do Stuff Now

Greetings Polka Dotted Cats! Tiff's been on me (seriously, like on me) for a few months to give her another guest post, because let's face it - my posts have bigger brains. It's science. So after turning her down just enough times that she appreciates me even more I've decided to pause my jazz flute sessions long enough to compose something for all you loyal PDC'ers. Read on and let your brain weep in ecstasy at the divine order I've chosen for these words.

Ultimately the first question I asked myself about writing more for her was: what do I have to say to a bunch of women that would be interesting to them? Then I remembered that the times are changing and ladies can do stuff now. So I now sit here in my bright orange robe drinking scotch to write out some random thoughts that will be of interest to you. Because YOU MISS MY MUSK. Scotchy scotch scotch.

Me being sexy.

Anyways, here is my master plan. I've been trying unsuccessfully to convince Tiffany to do one of two things (get your mind out of the gutter, ladies). One - stand-up comedy. Do any of you know this woman in person? Her story delivery, expressions and mannerisms are just plain hilarious. She probably has a fear of speaking in front of large crowds, mostly I would guess because Jmeoww probably has that fear and they share a brain when it comes to most neuroticisms, but we could work past that. Maybe some cheese would help.

Number two - write a book. This one is self explanatory. Her stuff is funny. By and large she uses correct grammar and punctuation. So why not begin to corral it all into a legible manuscript? I've tried bribing her with promises of trips to Pleasure Town and doing her on a rainbow, but she's still just focused on blogging.

All this could have been hers.

Come to think of it, it's probably all your faults... Yeah, yeah, what the hell people? Stop being such an encouraging community and tell her to go write a book! I'm seventy-two percent sure she'd succeed. And seventy-two percent of the time she'd succeed one-hundred percent of the time. You couldn't ask for better odds.

So let's all stop thinking of our own personal daily reading needs. In fact, for one night, let's not be bloggers. Let's be people. Now drink in my formidable scent and get lost in some jazz flute.

(If you like the order of these words, I have many other words in different sequences available to be viewed at Pixelated Trip. So stop by! I'll give you little cookies an hour before we're doing the no-pants dance.)

These things I've learned.

With my 30th birthday on the horizon (are you sick of hearing about it yet?), I've been thinking about posting something profound and hopefully quite wisdomous. Wisdomous is a word, trust. But I would feel like such an asshole spouting off wisdom that I don't even follow. And, I realized I don't like talking about myself THAT much. I like telling stories, but like a laundry list of Tiffany wisdoms? As amazing as that sounds, I'm already sick of hearing myself.

So I will leave it at this - I am going give you some cliff notes on things I have done/learned in my life that have shaped the 30 year old woman that I am. And a few things I need to work on, just to keep it fair-and-balanced, you know? Let's do this shit.

THINGS I HAVE DONE/LEARNED

• Daily drama & crisises, while entertaining, help no one. I have made a conscious effort to be more positive and stop bitching about every single little thing in my life. Am I 100% positive? Nope. But in the past 5 years I have gotten SO much better at looking at the bigger picture and not letting little details get to me.

• I will always be judgmental. I can't help it. And if you are going to wear 6-inch stilettos to work and then you can't walk in them you deserve my judgement. 

• If you are unhappy and unfulfilled in a relationship, end it. It will be awkward and awful and you will feel like the worst person in the entire world. That will all pass. But you can't force happiness and fulfillment. You just can't. I ended a 5+ year relationship much to the shock of my family and friends and I have never regretted it and never looked back. Making yourself happy and complete will always be #1 in my book.
• Footnote: And if you should perhaps leave an unfulfilling and awful relationship, please read Eat, Pray, Love. GUYS IT REALLY HELPED ME. Learning to let go was the most important lesson of my life.

• Single ladies...LIVE ALONE. At some point in your life, ditch the roommates. Suffer financially. Decorate the shit out of your apartment. Eat dinner in you underwear. Sleep naked. Pass out drunk in your bathroom and cover up with the rug. No one will ever know. You will really discover who you are, who your friends are, and what is important to you.

• You will know when you find your other half. You will. If you can honestly not find one single thing wrong with a person, besides their shoes, then they are truly your perfect fit. And when you find that person, don't let them go. Fight your hardest fight. Have no shame. Because when it works, you will never regret the sobbing and mildly drunk phone call which sealed the deal and also solved the problem of the ugly shoes. It is so worth it, you guys.

• And speaking of having no shame, lighten the fuck up, you know? One of my favorite (probably made-up) words from a book is erleichda - and it literally means "lighten up." Laugh at yourself. Relax. But don't relax to the point of farting in front of your significant other. That shit is UNACCEPTABLE. 

• Not all cats are self-reliant. Some are special-needs. Really special-needs.

THINGS I STILL NEED TO WORK ON.

• Learning the difference between left and right.

• Saving money and sticking to a budget.

• Setting boundaries. BIG TIME. And then sticking to them. BIG TIME.

• Not getting caught up in other people's drama. Not my bid'ness.

• My fitness. I'm getting better at it, and I like it! I just really need to stick with it. Like, forever.

• Not loving beer so much. Or whiskey. 

• My television viewing choices. Or do I.

And now that I'm through this I still feel like a total asshole. Because who I am to tell you how to live your life? I didn't even have hair until I was four, so why should you listen to me? Because I am happy. I am turning 30 and I can honestly say that I am happy. And once I finally distinguish between left and right, I feel like I might really have a chance in this world.

You're doing it wrong.

Relationships. We've all had them. Good, bad, really bad. As I told my dearest hetero life partner Leeann, practice makes perfect.

Saturday night I was in a REALLY BAD MOOD. Like really bad. Like holy shit don't even look at me bad mood. All because it took me 4 tries to get my outfit right and then I was all sweaty but damn if I didn't rock those boyfriend jeans (thanks for the recommendation, Kathrin!). And also because I didn't know where I was supposed to be driving us to, and also it really wasn't that big of a deal. I just couldn't handle my shit, and you all know what I mean. And Justin just let it happen and rolled with it, like it was no big deal that I was stomping through the streets of Solana Beach like a major beast. At least I looked good doing it...

Fast forward to Sunday night. Justin caught the REALLY BAD MOOD/also probably a hangover from the 190 whiskey shots he took with the boys Saturday night. I don't catch onto his bad moods very well because, well, quite honestly they are rare. I know, I found an angel from the heavens that farts confetti. I wish. But, this is when he loses his patience and I turn into a toddler.

I have a habit of asking mindless questions that don't really require attention. So at one point, he got up to go to the bathroom and I said, "where are you going?" GOOD QUESTION, Tiffany. Narnia? There are three places he can go in this apartment and not one of them require permission nor space physics to enter.

So, he lost his patience with me and like a proper 29-almost-30-year-old I cried. Well, kind of. I waited to cry until he shut the bathroom door, which before he did he had ALREADY apologized for being short with me.

At bedtime, the same thing happened. Except it was, "when are you coming to bed?" which I knew would happen soon enough when he finished using the internets. Just mindless questions, you see. And then he was all, wtf and I was like omg now I'm crying again.

And then there were more apologies and yesterday morning when I was giving him the JMEOWW feeding update (we are trying to cut down on her food intake...it's not going well...she thinks she is dying...) he apologized again. And then I apologized again and promised to be more mindful of the pointless questions I ask, and he said:

Once a relationship starts going down the road of "it's okay to do this in this situation but not in this one," and when you're talking about basic stuff like just asking questions, you start inhibiting who someone is. I REALLY don't ever want to inhibit who you are, because I love you with all my heart - even things that you think are annoying (leaving cloTHES* around?) I still love because it's YOU.

And then maybe I teared up a little at my desk, but didn't like cry-cry because I'm growing up, guys.

The point, the real point of all of this? Is that practice does make perfect. And there will be awfully bad moods and annoying questions, and super sexy looking boyfriend jeans. But beyond that, all that matters is that you remain YOU in a relationship, and never inhibit or silence a part of yourself that you think you should be insecure about. Except farts. Those should always be silenced, ladies.

*For the life of me, I cannot pronounce clothes properly...I say "close." You?

A Poem About Me.

I have so many things to say about this.

So. I shamed my mom into actually decorating her tree, rather than put generic ornaments on it like a goddamned heathen. So she dug out this treasure as payback and when I get up there on Christmas Eve it better be front and center.

English was my second choice of major in college, so let's deconstruct this "Poem."

Tiffany likes Tiger-striped cats. This is not false, in fact I had several later in my childhood (several because my older sister kept running them over...on accident...allegedly). Why couldn't I just choose tigers? Because I was gifted.

Italian food is her favorite food. Also true, however the only Italian food I ate at this age was noodles and butter.

Fantasia is her favorite movie. False. But it was probably the only movie I could think of that started with "F."

Fishing is her favorite sport. Was it? Kind of. I used to go along with my dad. Can't say I did any of the actual fishing things, but I still went. Also, unclear whether this is a sport....

Alaska is her favorite state. My favorite state that starts with "A," obviously. It has polar bears. Why wouldn't it be one of my faves?

Nutcracker is her favorite story. I don't even know.

Yucca Valley is her favorite place to go. Because I haven't yet been to Yellowstone, obviously. Or Yugoslavia. Yemen?

In conclusion, I'd really like to know the point of this poetry assignment. To make me out to be such a liar? It certainly wasn't to work on my smizing or the art of the open-mouth smile. But I glued the shit out of that macaroni. I sure did.

I'm a Man Who Discovered the Wheel

Hello Polka Dotted Cats Readers! I am Justin. Yes that Justin. For those of you who don't often frequent the PDC, I'm the boyfriend of the beautiful and talented blog owner. Also known as the goofy dude with the five-head who knows a good opportunity to suck up when he sees it.

Me, in my more glamorous single days.

So you may be asking yourself, why am I reading this and not my daily dose of Tiffany? Well, the other day she expressed some fatigue with keeping up with her posting regime this week. Although I suspect foul play courtesy of the devil cat - perhaps some slow poison or something in Tiff's breakfast each day to dull her wits so devil cat can escape - I figured I'd let it slide for now (I'm watching you, Jmeoww) and offered to do a guest post.

After pondering what I could write about that might possibly be of interested to all of you, it occurred to me that it would be difficult to offer up any observations or witticisms that would be well received if you, her dear readers, don't know much about me. With that in mind I decided to put together a brief write-up via the ten questions James Lipton asks his guests on Inside the Actors Studio. Which incidentally are based on the Proust Questionnaire, something I learned five minutes ago when I Wikipedia searched this in an effort to look intelligent.

Anyway, why something so random? Well, among other things, I'm a film geek. (Yes, there are different varieties.) That and it's a fairly easy way to break the ice while still coming across as relatively intellectual. Again with that. I swear I don't have a complex. Are you catching this musk though? That's the smell of desire. ...Ahem. Moving on.

1) What is your favorite word? - Sugar. Wait- beer. Hold on, is this about food? 

2) What is your least favorite word? - "Unfortunately" said slowly in a southern drawl. 

3) What turns you on? - Self-deprecating humor and a killer smile. 

4) What turns you off? - Ignorance, vegetables, and improper use of you're. 

5) What sound or noise do you love? - When Tiffany says "mmm-hmmm". She has this amazing way of sounding more sincere, enthusiastic, and freakin' adorable than anything I've ever heard. 

6) What sound or noise do you hate? - Jmeoww's battle-cries. Just kidding, baby! ...Crunching metal. Like a car crash twisting up metal sound. 

7) What is your favorite curse word? - Goddamnedmotherfucker. It's one word when I say it. 

8) What profession other than your own your own would you like to attempt? - Painter. Like the goatee sporting douche-bag artsy canvas painter (minus the goatee and douche-baggery), not the dude who paints houses. Ask Tiff about my breakfast brainstorm a few weeks ago. I'll be rich I tell you. RICH! 

The type of art I will create.

9) What profession would you not like to do under any circumstances? - Undertaker. Dead guy preparer, not wrestler, which despite my better half's secret love is pretty high up on the no list also. 

10) And lastly, if heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates? - "Don't worry dude, you atheists are actually the only ones who make it up here."

And there you have it! Since I'll never be a famous actor on that show this is the closest I'll get to feeling as if I have an audience learning what my answers are. So thank you, James Lipton, for having me. And for developing your delicious tea. And thank you all, random acting student audience. It's been real. I feel like we all got to know each other really intimately.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll just be blasting off in my futuristic jetpack to return to my floating diamond mansion in the sky.

What? That's how they live, right?

I'm sure Jessica is a nice woman...

I was going to write an entire post about my hair and how I am growing it out and how it is making me crazy, but I decided to spare you such boredom. Long story short: In 2009 I wanted to be Victoria Beckham. In 2012 I am still paying for that.

CASE IN POINT.

The extreme emotional trauma that growing out my hair is causing me reminded me of the times that I wore Jessica Simpson hair extensions (pre-posh cut, mind-you. This was circa 2007). I'd like to send out a huge thank you to all of those who let me do so without telling me how awful they looked. SERIOUSLY, you guys? I'm going to hold on to this forever and one day when your hair looks awful and you say, "Why didn't you tell me?" I'm just going to walk away shouting "JESSICA SIMPSON!" One day when you need help fixing your hair for an important event? JESSICA SIMPSON! And you're going to be all, "What does she have to do with anything?" and I'll say, "Did she really name her baby girl Maxwell?" And then I will forget about the extensions and move on with my life.

Also, if you are going through an awkward growing out phase with your hair as I am, Confessions of a Hair Stylist will save you. Jenny posts very easy-to-follow tutorials and once my hair is about a half an inch longer I think I can totally master some of them!