My Dream

Piles, upon piles of the best animal ever.
Try to look at this without saying "Aww"

Sorry guys...

Sorry guys, I gotta study! Here's an armful of kittens to tide you over.

Add caption

Excuse the language.

The truth.

Connor's Hair

That's right folks!
Another update, about Connor's creepily perfect hair!

There is no way you do that in two minutes: NO FREAKING WAY!
Do you have like... insane hair glue? Is that how it works?

It looks so freaking soft, even after how much you should have fried it when you bleached the crap out of it.

What is this mischief?
A lack of dead ends, and I do say... I don't think the wind affects it at all. Craziness!

I am so freaking jealous, and then you have to go and say: "It only takes me two minutes!"

I scream lies!

There must be some lengthy process! Some crazy secret. Do you use unicorn blood or something?
If so: Where the hell did you find it?
Black market? Under the wizarding supplies section or something? 
Gimme a hint okay?
Its not fair, boy!
Share your secrets!
Think of it!
A world, where everyone has beautiful, manageable hair!

The perfect world. 

As Highschool Comes to an End- Reflecting

I have been waiting for this day for four long years now.
I have fought many battles, I have lost some, and won some.
Looking back, I have changed so much.

In grade 9, I was an awkward turtle, bundled up in layers upon layers of clothes that didn't fit me. Desperate to hide my body. I was terrified, I couldn't keep eye contact without feeling nervous, let alone holding up a conversation with a stranger.
By grade 10 I had become what my friends wanted me to become. I had become something I had absolutely despised. I was nothing more than some pathetic, immature, twit. With makeup caked on, and hair dyed anything but my natural colour.
Grade 11, yet again, there was a drastic change. I began to back away from the people I had grown to despise. I had a friend that made me feel okay about myself, and I lightened up the makeup. I compulsively cut my hair, and let the colour fade.
For the first time, in such a long time, while being around people I adored, I began to like myself. So I turned my back on those that hurt me, and I was free.
I figured out there was nothing wrong with me,  I'm kind of a cool kid, if I do say so myself.
In grade 12, my final transformation occurred because of the loss of someone I cared for. Eventually, I gave up. It got to the point, where I didn't want to like anyone, I didn't want to care and I didn't want to waste my time. I started working a lot, and became very detached from the people around me. I denied affection, and avoided situations that would involve feeling.
So in turn, people got mad. People walked away from me.
So here I am, sitting in a semi-comfortable chair.
Around some new people.

I can't wait for next year.
I'm finally free.

Winter is Coming

Not seriously...

Today, we speak of Game of Thrones.
George R.R. Martin's masterpiece of a series has been made into a television show, and is now part-way through season two.
Of course though, it is an HBO Series
For all of you fools out there who are unfamiliar with the works of HBO, the majority of them tend to show a lot of... well... boobs. Oh, and sex scenes, but boobs are way more common.

I have fallen in love with their choice of actors!
I mean who better to play Lord Eddard Stark, than Sean Bean?

He looks exactly the same as he did when he played Boromir, except aged a bit with a fluffier cloak.

 Joffrey, son of King Robert Baratheon  is so well done as well. Absolutely amazing, and such a brilliant actor... if I ever met Jack Gleeson (who plays Joffrey), I would probably not hesitate to punch him in the face.
He plays the child who is given way to much power, and is quite the little asshole at that!

Peter Dinklage plays the part of Tyrion Lannister (aka. The Imp). He is one of my absolute favourite characters, and Dinklage plays the part perfectly!
Uncle of Joffrey, he is a powerful speaker, and an intelligent man who stands apart from the rest of his nut-job, incest-filled family.

 Okay, so enough about the actors. To sum it up, all of the actors are freaking amazing.



I find the way to describe this show is quite simple... and is usually to be taken in a joking manner.
It came up in a conversation with my father. Due to all the nudity (mostly boobs), and semi-graphic sexual scenes, we have dubbed it "soft core porn... with a really, really good story line."
One scene,we also decided, may have been directed by a really hormonal teenage boy.

It was during a monologue by the character Petyr Baelish (played by Aidan Gillen),

someone decided that the best possible thing to be going on in the room, and the main focus (besides his voice of course), was a lesbian sex scene. It was two prostitutes going at it in the brothel (which owned by Baelish).

I'm sure some might take offense to this, and not want to watch it, but I swear, it is one of the best shows ever made.
However if you would prefer not to see constant boobs on the screen, I highly recommend reading the books instead.
It is honestly one of the best series I have come across.

My Addiction

My name is Marina, and I am an addict.

A couple of my friends have pointed this out... I have a problem.
A problem that could one day affect my health.
I swear I've tried to stop before, but its just so hard to!

I must spend hundreds of my well-earned dollars on this addiction every week!

Its just... impossible to stop.

Some people have tried to get me to change my habits, gain some healthy ones, but its just too hard!

I know the first step is admitting the addiction, so now I have.
Maybe now I should ask for help... but its rather embarrassing to talk about.

But here, to you people, I will admit this.

My addiction is... chocolate

Any suggestions on how to deal with this?

Feeling Fast Already

OneThingOnMyMind

My Cat

To all of you out there that have met the ruler of my household, I have something to say to you.
My.
Cat.
Is.
Not.
Fat.
Exclamation Point.

Whiskers, ruler of the world, is a 15 year old cat. So yes, his metabolism is slowing down slightly, and sometimes it may give him the appearance of flub and flab, but it is all an illusion!
He is a long haired feline, and as his royal highness as aged, he has also become more lord- like.
He no longer needs to jump when his servants are around, for he can have us lift him to the height which he prefers so that he can save his energy for various activities.

And you say he's waddling? His little legs can't handle him?
Preposterous!
 Have you never seen insane cat-swagger before?

He is the king of the jungle we call my residence!

As for you children out there that believe that he is 'heavy', and whine and groan as you pick him up, I know a reason for that.
You are weak!
Gain some muscle! Then come talk to me!

Regret- an old slam poetry

I look back at myself,

and I really start to wonder...

If I looked the way I used to,

would I ever have been noticed?

If i didn't dress the way I did,

straighten my hair the way I do...

would you look at me the same?

If my eyes weren't lined the way they are,

in the coloured shadows, pencil and ink...

and my skin weren't covered in that pore clogging paste...

would you still call me pretty?

Maybe I've grown a bit sick of all this,

Seeing everyone with their tiny insecurities,

Puking up every last thing that keeps them alive?

God I wish I could go back to the way I used to be,

but I'm addicted, as is.

I'm addicted to the makeup, to the look, to it all.

And I think now the whole world starts to fall.

When I see beautiful people change who they are...

it makes me sick, and I know its the start,

because its too hard to go back,

Its hard to change the way things are.

Because ideals are forced on us all,

When I call people fake, its for that sickly paste,

and that blow-up doll personality,

and i know you arent' following,

but one day they'll all reach,

the point in which we seldom speak,

the point when they look back at themselves...

and think 'wow... its so hard to tell'

because people change so much,

looks, personality, it all...

and sometimes its not worth climbing...

if we all slip and fall.

I don't know the meaning of this,

i'm just trying to let it out...

in the only way I know,

without having to shout,

cus the world is asleep,

while I lay awake...

So I just hope someone reads this,

and the tightness twists in their chest,

'cus then maybe they'll understand,

exactly what I regret.

The Run.

The sun has been swallowed up by the horizon, and darkness crawls over the land.
The sky cries, rain pattering on the pavement as I step outside my door. Shoes are tied, hood up, music on- here I go.
My shoes are worn in, not meant for running, slapping on the pavement as I start up a rhythm. Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Arms pumping at my sides, legs strain, as they are not used to this much movement.

That's when I hear it, a growl that slowly grows into a resonating screech. I can almost smell the decay. I glance behind me. Rotting corpse, sprinting after me.

 I speed up, as I have nothing to defend myself. My lungs are burning, the cold air becoming painful to suck in. Zombies. I reach a steep hill, and start to stumble down it, reaching the bottom, and glancing quickly before I dart across the street.
There are more now, attracted by the cries of their fellow undead. One to my left, I take a sharp turn down a narrow street, only a couple of the decaying figures can run it seems, the rest are staggering behind, a horde.
I see the hospital up ahead, and take the risk running through the parking lot. There are obstacles there that I can avoid easily, but for some stumbling corpse, it is a maze.
I dart in between parked cars and trucks weaving through as to make it difficult for the zombies to reach me.
At one point I slide over the hood of a small car, because I'm BADASS like that.
I reach the end of the lot and hurl myself down a short set of stairs, landing clumsily. It is still pouring down rain, and I am now soaked, but no time to think about that. I keep running.
I make it onto a familiar street I usually would take to get to work. The horde has fallen behind. Out of nowhere I hear another screech and I am cut off! I weave, jumping from the sidewalk to the road and dodging before sprinting as fast as I can. I hear groans and growls, dead walkers hidden in the darkness of the surrounding streets. They look up from their kills, as I go by.
I dip across a street where conveniently the light is green, but when running from zombies... it doesn't matter.
Passing stores I had been in many times before, my legs are aching, my stomach is twisting and cramping. I keep running
I take the last of my energy and with a short burst of speed I make it to the doors of BK and barricade myself within.
Two of my friends look up, I am soaked from head to toe and panting.
I order a Whopper, flop down on the chair and devour it.

It was all good after that... but the next morning I woke up with a frigging cold.

Uncomfortable Touching Makes Me Uncomfortable

I always knew that I never needed much.
Of course, this is mostly referring to affection.
 It was never something that seemed like a necessity. The awkward physical contact, I still don't really understood other people's desperation, and odd craving for it.
Up until maybe a year ago, I never even really hugged people- feeling that being that close to someone else would only make me uncomfortably warm. Naturally, I became what you would call a guru at dodging such acts. I squirm, ninja roll, jump, flip and many other movements to evade such prolonged exposure to the skin of another human, that acted like poison, making a heat burn in my face.
Of course, in the act of relationships, it is something that is viewed as a norm.The hand-holding, hugging, kissing, etc.
I guess I have time, as I sit in this class (unable to converse), to explain my issues with these common acts of intimacy.
Hand Holding 
Definition: a grip or secure hold with the hand or hands.
Hand-holding always was quite uncomfortable for me. Such a simple act of intimacy always lead to an uncomfortable situation. I am fairly certain that I cannot be the only person who finds such situation uncomfortable for on reason- sweaty palms. Look at that! Your hands are freaking crying! That is how much they dislike the entwined fingers, you suffocate them. Can walking next to each other suffice? Jesus.
 I was always pretty bad for avoiding hand-holding,which could possibly be one of the main reasons I remain single... but who the hell cares?
 I'm protecting my hands from being over heated and drenched in the sweat of others! It leaves your hands cold, clammy and all around disgusting. Its also awkward, especially while walking. Who's hand will dominate the other? How do you decide? While attempting to figure this out on the go, it usually leads to an abundance of pointless adjustment. One person always needs to assert themselves, and be the decision maker. I think in the hand holding process, one person will always remain uncomfortable. I say avoid it! I think the fact that their is a how-to on hand holding, it is definitely not something that is supposed to come naturally to us normal people (see: How to Hold Hands: 10 steps (with pictures)). How about we just stop it and let our poor hands breathe okay?

Hug 

Definition: Squeeze (someone) tightly in one's arms, typically to express affection.

Next I suppose is the hug, such a common affectionate act. Okay, I have to admit, I don't mind hugging when I really need it (if I'm sad or something), or if someone else needs it. It is such a powerful comforting action... but seriously, if I don't need it, don't try it. I guess I just wasn't exposed to hugs much as a kid, besides the occasional hug from a relative. Getting into elementary school, around grade 6 or 7, I found people trying to hug me alarming. I took it as an offensive maneuver to trap me, so I went into defense mode. As soon as someone would wrap their arms around me and attempt to crush my frail bones, I would sink my teeth into anything I could. This went on for almost 5 years, I have become more used to the idea of it. Still, I don't want other people stealing my body heat, and I sure as hell don't need theirs.
As previously stated, I really do not enjoy the whole... experience of a hug, and tend to become unnaturally warm, a sign of embarrassment or being uncomfortable. I have acquired such skills over the years, that has allowed me to be a master of avoiding this situation- but sometimes I can't escape it.

Kiss
Definition: to touch or press with the lips slightly pursed, and then often to part them and to emit a smacking sound, in an expression of affection, love, greeting, reverence, etc.

The swapping of saliva through what could be a failed attempt of mouth -to-mouth resuscitation, a.k.a kissing, snogging, tonsil hockey, making out, face sucking, etc. Such a disgusting act, with such an unlikeable sound. A friend recently told me of its scientific significance in courting... but still, nasty. (I avoid a picture for this one).
I have also tried to avoid kissing, because it is always awkward. Everyone kisses differently, and sometimes it just gets down-right sloppy. A mass of lips clashing against lips with spittle flying everywhere. Usually, dramatized and exaggerated that leads full out sucking of face. One person's face, completely consumed by the fat lips of another person.
It is also uncomfortable when you are in the position, where you are watching a couple engaging in this unsanitary act. Slurps and heavy breathing, adding unnecessary qualities - God Damn it! Breath! The art of avoiding this one is rather simple, just act completely oblivious. When someone tries to make the moves, begin to emit a high-pitch, siren like noise, and they are sure to back the hell off.


Sex 
Definition: Sexual contact between individuals involving penetration, esp. the insertion of a man's erect penis into a woman's vagina.


No- Just no.

---

That is all.

I Spat In Your Coffee

At around 9 p.m. this evening, I found myself sitting in a Timmie's about a 15 minute walk from my house. My coffee was burnt- I should have taken this as a sign from the gods that I was not meant to be there.

It was when you sat down that I realized, I really can't handle this.
You are twice my size, weighing in 100lbs more than me, and standing at least a foot taller. You also have a year on me, as you are a 12B student. I want to tell you how much I regret meeting you sometimes.

I was even nice enough to buy your broke-ass a coffee. I kept that stupid smile plastered on my face, laughed at your miserable joke, but the truth is eating me up on the inside.
I want to scream it at the top of my lungs.
You, sir, are an asshole.
You have always claimed that since you are a year older, you must be more mature. I question that.
You are still just a boy, so isn't it about time you grew up? Be a man.

When you decided it would be a grand idea to tell me you like me, you were astonished by my response. I have to admit, even I know it wasn't a typical response. It wasn't "I don't like you" or " I like you", it was three simple words: "No you don't."
After a bad breakup from a two year relationship, you were looking for something to cling to- someone to cling to. You decided me. Genius move.
I persuaded you that you were just looking for something that wasn't necessarily there. That you were rebounding, so used to being in a relationship that you were trying to force yourself into one. It was cruel of me, but I believed it was for a good cause.
After that, you said you were okay, but I realized you have gone completely out of your way to make me miserable.

You have damaged my friendships, tried to pick fights with me, made me feel like a worthless piece of shit. Usually, I can survive that, I have before. You did something different though, you always continued to claim you were a nice guy.

Ripping me apart emotionally when I was already in a broken state- that doesn't make you a good guy. It took me until I met some genuinely nice people (you know who you are), for me to finally clue in.

So here I sat, across from you.

I swore I wouldn't say anything, even though you made a big mistake.
Telling your friend that we were fooling around... I haven't even made any affectionate contact with you.
What the hell are you doing? 
Anger burning in my stomach, I sat across from you, drinking my burnt coffee. That smile painted on, misleading and so easy to use.
I promised I wouldn't say anything.
I didn't want to break that promise.
I wanted to scream, to shout, tell you exactly what I think of you-

Instead I sat.

Drinking my shitty, burnt, Tim Horton's coffee, at a table that probably hadn't been wiped all day. Living a miserable lie.
You moved to go to the washroom, leaving your mostly full cup of coffee on the table.

At 9:17, I spat in your coffee.

It was the least I could do.

An OD survival Guide for ParkStreetians

I feel like one stealthy ninja when I walk through the hallways of OD.
It is like I have successfully infiltrated a foreign country and have blended in with society there.
The truth is:
I am an alien. 
However, how could anyone else know? I know some of my 'classmates' have come to realize that I do not belong there, but for them to blow my cover would mean death.
The customs are different, the groups of people are different.
I haven't had much of a chance to analyze the disturbing nature of the majority of the OD students, however there are some beings who share many common characteristics with my own people!
There are many kind people at OD, some of which I have decided to mingle amongst (they know who they are).
Walking through the hallway, I have noticed, some people seem unnerved when I make eye contact with them and smile. In the place I come from it is a custom, silent greeting.
I've had many females glare when I smile at them, but the majority just give me a confused look that asks: 'Who are you?' Of course they have no idea. We share a common tongue, which made my life a lot easier.
We are much simpler folk, as demonstrated by our architecture (two boxes on top of each other), OD on the other hand is a complex maze, meant to confuse those who are unsure of where things are. I have a strange feeling this is part of their plan to weed out those who do not belong... but I must not jump to conclusions.I believe the easiest way to navigate this labyrinth is follow the pack.

like a boss

I must remember, however, I am the foreigner here. I cannot allow people to become too suspicious of me. I must learn to blend in. Like Altair blending in with a crowd... except that may be a bit suspicious, these people may not be as foolish and slow as the templars.


I have a strange suspicion that if I ever find myself lost, that they will notice. I will be like a fluffy lamb amongst a pack of wolves. I think they will hunt me down, put a bag over my head, torture than cannibalize me... but that may just be my paranoia.
I live by the rule of 'play it safe'. Laugh when everyone else laughs, don't make a giant spectacle and just wait your turn. Blend into the background like no tomorrow.
My first couple of weeks have been fairly easy... I believe it has been quite a success.
That is all I can say for now, any turns in events will be reported.

This stealthy ninja is signing out.

The Terrible Life of a Twin

Yes, a twin. I am a fraternal twin.

I get so tired of people exclaiming "that's so cool!" with that disgusting idiotic tone that spews from their lips like poison. It is not cool. Not cool in the slightest. She has been the plaguing my existence since the day we were conceived. You think that is cool? Oh, such a fool, she stole my nutrients since day one! Sure, she had the terribly awful feet, but I was born with the underdeveloped lungs which caused me to grow quite ill. I believe she has been plotting my extinction since the very beginning..

When you are born a twin, for some reason their follows a belief that you should have to share absolutely everything- just because we shared a birthday.
I shared a birthday cake for the first 11 years of my life. You know how lame that is? We don't even like the same types of cake!
We always got similar toys, similar clothing, and for a while similar haircuts.

But get this: even then we were so unalike that no one knew until one day in kindergarten we both wore duck sweaters our grandma had knitted us (*cue the 'awws'*).

Even when we were wee-little children we were easy to tell apart. So it astounded family members when other parents would ask, 'how can you tell them apart?'. I believe that having the label 'twin' patched on me permanently, causes a lot of confusion (A lot of stupidity).


We have never looked the same, even since birth:
-I was smaller and had a rounder face, while she had an oval face.
-My hair was thicker and wavier, with ringlets forming occasionally. She had thin hair that tended to lay more flat.
-My hair was always dark, while hers slowly darkened.
-I tended to remain pale year-round, while her skin would tend to change throughout the seasons.
-My teeth were straight, while hers remained crooked.
-My eyes were darker, and I needed  glasses at an earlier age.
-I have always been shorter

Not to mention, we grew up completely different:
-She's a star athlete, while I lack in any athletic ability.
- I was a quick learner, and grew quite literate at a young age, while she remained incapable of reading until grade four.
-I was a musician and had a good ear, while she seemed unable to even pick up an instrument.
-I was creative, and an individual. Excelling on my own, while she excelled more through careful teaching.
-We have different tastes in music
-Different work-ethic
-Different clothing styles

Most people who meet us don't even realize we are related, and the more we have grown the more different we have become.
For the most part we don't even get along, I'm sure if we didn't share blood we wouldn't even acknowledge each other. It is very unlikely we would ever have been friends.

I guess the only good part about being a twin?
People not believing it. 

Alpaca- Spawn of Demons

Have you ever been so terrified of something?
It haunts your nightmares, causing you to lose precious hours of sleep, and drives you to the brink of insanity?
It may be something like spiders, insects, sharks, cannibals, monsters, killers- the list goes on.
I have a fear (unbelievable, I know), just like the rest of you . A fear that causes sleepless nights, and leaves me shaking in the morning.
These quiet beasts, believed to be tame- I see their true intentions. I see the devious minds behind those dark eyes, the plotting creatures ready to make a move.

Alpaca- Spawn of Demons

 I know some of you may snicker, laugh at me. If only you saw what I saw- Just look at it! Those big, beady eyes, quite alike to Colonel Sanders. The enlarged cranium, I know something is hiding there, allowing them to plot.
They are mischievous, pretending to be no more than a curly haired four-legged 'tame' beast.
They seem so innocent, and then you turn around and you're entire sweater vest is gone!
WHAT-HO?
But they just keep watching you with that vacant expression.
If they could laugh... I believe it would resemble the noise emitted by a toad when it is being held upside down by its little toady- legs.
Awful.
There isn't much more to say... but these things... they have been slinking through my nightmares since  I was 7.
Just look at it... and tell me how you feel.

An Informal Introduction

Greetings blog-stalkers (readers), and welcome to my blog,
For some, this will be a mysterious and wonderful experienceô, as it allows you to delve in to the mind of an oddball.
I suppose an introduction is in order?
My name is Marina, I am  a student, and yes, I am a female. At the moment, I am gearing up for my inevitable escape from my hometown. This place- more the people in it- has been driving me insane. I just can't take it anymore. I am ready to become a part of a bigger world, and not be constrained, stuck here forever.
I guess I should talk about some things I like, to give you a small idea of how normal, or abnormal I am.
I like music, it is something I cannot live without. I play a couple of instruments including violin, piano, and guitar (strings involve less spit then other instruments which means less germs), and usually always have my headphone in one ear as I maneuver through a normal day. Music is my life, and I believe it is something that everyone needs to function at one point or another.
I am a gamer (and a basement dweller), yes, I am female and I play video games. I thouroughly enjoy Bethesda games, like Fallout and Skyrim. Other games that are awesome enough to be referenced are Valve games (Portal, Half Life and TF2), as well as games like Assassins Creed, Bioshock, JSRF and hell, Beautiful Katamari. There are many more, but I assume you get the point.
I love books and movies, and I could go on about books, but that may take too long. There is nothing I enjoy more than sitting down with a cup of tea and reading a book. My love of movies is a normal feeling, I know I am not the only one.
Pandas are my favourite animal, closely followed by wolves and other K9 species. Horses, on the other hand scare the crap out of me, same with alpacas (they just have really big craniums and big eyes- what a messed up combo).
I have a twin sister, and and older sister... neither of which are extremely like me.
I suppose that is enough for now.
Those who are interested can learn more about me through reading later entries.


Thank you blog-stalkers.