Tyrolin Puxty's Blog

Are you lucky or unlucky? I haven't worked it out. Sure, I'm lucky because I love my job, have tremendous family and have learned to live with my freakishly long neck. But it's the little things. Those damn little things. Today I bit my lip to the extent that my mother said I looked like a wounded Gelfling. I think I agree. Then my car wouldn't start. But on the plus side, a reputable reviewer contacted me and I nabbed the last sushi left in the crowded store. So where does that leave me? What

I'm not exactly good with celebrities. I'm polite, I'm calm, but I just somehow always manage to find a way to embarrass myself. The most recent humiliation occurred two weeks ago. I’m an avid Dance Moms fan and despite Abby’s unconventional method of teaching, I get it. I'm a performing arts teacher myself and it can be rewarding, but tough.    So it was time to meet Abby. Abby flippin’ Lee. It’s an awkward encounter. If you want a photo with the queen herself, you have to sit on a pouf by her

   Dear Teen Tyrolin, Hey. It's been a while.  So, things are sucking pretty badly. You stained your braces with curry, you made the painful decision to cut your fringe and you went off-key singing in that school performance. Like, REALLY off-key. It was like a freakin' cat screaming. But that doesn't bother you. Nothing does. Not since he died. There was just numbness, sadness and fear...and that doesn't go away for another two years. He was your best friend, debutante partner and the first boy

I stole the neighbour’s cat yesterday. Not because I needed another feline to add to my ever growing collection, but because I thought Pippy Long-Stockings had roamed too far and was now “the furthest from the Shire that she’s ever been.” I wasn’t sure how I felt when my car halted to a stop. There was Pippy, a block from home, strutting around like she owned the joint. I noticed that she had amazingly removed her collar to deny any claims of ownership. Rather than accept that this was not the

Dear Teen Tyrolin, Hey. It's been a while.  So, things are sucking pretty badly. You stained your braces with curry, you made the painful decision to cut your fringe and you went off-key singing in that school performance. Like, REALLY off-key. It was like a freakin' cat screaming. But that doesn't bother you. Nothing does. Not since he died. There was just numbness, sadness and fear...and that doesn't go away for another two years. He was your best friend, debutante partner and the first boy

  Yeah, you read the title correctly.    The thing is, I'm a woman. And I have these things called breasts. They're both wonderful and a hindrance.    The night before my book launch, I had a dream that my dress fell down and I exposed my body to a crowd full of kids. Dream interpreters would say it's because I felt exposed sharing my book with the world, but I say it was a prediction. My launch was pretty big. I had championship pole dancers, singers, dancers and gluten-free cake. I was busy

  Scaring people runs in the family. Honestly, it's amazing I'm not a jittery, skittish mess, sitting in a shadowy corner chewing my hair.   My uncle used to take me out on the property and tell me stories of trolls eating innocent hikers (see where I'm going with this?). He pointed to an area behind a bush (conveniently) and said: "What's over there? I think I see something."   My 7 year old self stayed put, mortified when he started screaming behind the bush. He emerged, blood all over his

    **Firstly, this picture is blurred not because I'm ashamed of my friend, but because I thought I'd protect her identity. It's pretty embarrassing to be seen with me, and whatnot.     I should have commenced my Pokemon training when I was ten. Professor “Named After A Tree” should have asked what my gender was, gifted me with a Charmander and sent me on my way.   This never came to pass.   But that’s okay, because at eleven, I should have received my letter from Hogwarts, informing me of the

  I stole the neighbour’s cat yesterday.   Not because I needed another feline to add to my ever growing collection, but because I thought Pippy Long-Stockings had roamed too far and was now “the furthest from the Shire that she’s ever been.”   I wasn’t sure how I felt when my car halted to a stop. There was Pippy, a block from home, strutting around like she owned the joint.   I noticed that she had amazingly removed her collar to deny any claims of ownership. Rather than accept that this was

I'm not exactly good with celebrities. I'm polite, I'm calm, but I just somehow always manage to find a way to embarrass myself.   The most recent humiliation occurred two weeks ago. I’m an avid Dance Moms fan and despite Abby’s unconventional method of teaching, I look up to her.   I’d spoken to Melissa and Jill and we got along great. I could totally see myself being BFF’s with Melissa, which was exactly what she said. Unfortunately, she hasn’t tweeted back and I’m not ready to resort to being