Last year I found my Second Grade report card that our grandmother had stashed away in a Rubbermaid bin along with what little remains of my childhood. That list of remnants includes some other report cards and a krimping iron.

My teacher, Mrs. Lubinetski, wrote a little about me in the comment sections, and all of her notes said roughly the same thing: “Tiffany is a very bright student, but she needs to talk more.”

I hope Mrs. L finds my blog so she can rest assured that I did not go on to become a serial killer. I’m doing the other thing that she probably guessed I’d do: writing.

Tales of Woah is a collection of vignettes with a 30% chance of memoir. Mostly, these are tales of people I never met who may or may not exist.

If you put three monkeys in a room with a typewriter, they will eventually write Hamlet. Using that logic, if I write about enough non-existent people, perhaps a person I don’t know will read this and find a spot-on description of himself.

So I invite you to read on - you may find yourself. Doesn’t that sound important?