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Alright, so I wrote my history test today. It wasn't as bad as I thought. I was freaking out a little beforehand, but now I see that I was just being over critical of my intelligence. (I spent my third period spare watching Flying Circus w. a cute guy btw.) Anyway, I stayed a few minutes late to finish up the test and missed my bus, so I got my Nana to pick me up. Then I napped at her house. I'm kind of angry because I've just gone on a super strict diet that doesn't include ice cream or Girl Guide Cookies.

I've been so good, not eating any of it. I want to soo bad, it's like heroin, (chocolate). Oh! My dad and I went grocery shopping, and he buys all this really awesome stuff, that is ridiculously bad for me, like TWO TUBS of ice cream! My favourite kinds too. But I looked at the nutritional label, and it said if I have 125ml, it's only 150 calories. Which is a lot, but I can cut something else out if I'm desperate. And it doesn't have much fat either, like, 5g I think. Anyways, so I carefully measure it and it this tiny little bit of ice cream and savour every bloody drop. I guess it makes up for my three missed yogurts today (which add up to that tiny bit of icecream). I was still within my calorie limit too. I can't believe that I've become a calorie counter, but I just imagine what it'll be like to walk into a store and be able to try on whatever I want and not worry about sizing.

I went for a walk with Sandy today. We jogged a bit, but I'm so out of shape, that speed walking was my best bet. Whenever I feel a bit of pain or discomfort, I know that I'm getting healthier. Weird, but true I think. I know that I seem like I'm a bit obsessed about this whole exercise/eat healthy thing, but it's the only way that I can be healthy.
Gah, so I came in and had a shower and made a mental note to wear bug spray next time. And I always forget the sports bra, so I'm speedwalking along, bouncing at the speed of breast, and I curse the day my breasts grew. (I made an lj entry about it. Had pictures.)

Also, I'm packing this weekend. Sorting through my immeasurable amount of crap. What goes with me? What goes to storage? What goes to Annie? What do I still need to buy? What goes in the trash? I'm so confused by it all, looking at the next little while on my calendar, trying to fit stuff in. I'm afriad of stuff going sour, but I guess that's life man. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. When I saw I'm afraid of stuff going sour, I guess I just mean, I'm afraid of everything going sour- life in general. I see my life as a chain reaction, events caused by events, caused by events, caused by events (determinism if you will). So sometimes in my mind, I get a thought process like this:

Don't study enough -> Fail test -> Low average -> university acceptance retracted -> don't go to uni -> trapped in the County ->become bum -> waste life -> die a nothing


I can't help it, that's just the way I think. So that's why I study hardy. lol. Well, I'm sleepy and Marie just said she was moving back to the County at the end of April and I'm ecstatic because she is a wonderful gal whom I adddorrre!
Wow, my school thinks I'm some kind of sexpert (I guess I am tho), but still. Weird. Also, why is it that I, let's just say, "warm up" to people just as soon as it becomes impossible for a true relationship to blossom? Tis my curse evidently. Relationships are so strange, platonic/romantic/sexual... human social interaction really. So complicated and delicate, always hanging in some odd balance. Which reminds me, I'm currently majorly crushing, in a very highschool-sexually-frustrated way, on three people. One of them already has a boyfriend, I think. I'm not sure. Oh well, I guess that's the nature of love. Revealing this rather mysterious thing lead me to think about why I keep an online journal. It's rather contradictory, an online diary. A diary is supposedly for private thoughts, and yet, blogging is a HUGE thing right now? Who doesn't blog? Really? But then I remembered something brilliant: "Talking much about oneself can also be a means to conceal oneself." (Special prize to whomever guesses who said that. Alysson, you can't just google it.) Anyways, that is so amazingly true. Is not love an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired? (Frost, a'thank you.)Is that why we confide in online diaries and blogs? To know if we are worth reading about? To know that people care enough about your life and existence to read through your thoughts? To understand through comments, that they sympathize, or have some input, into how your life is going, as if they truly care, (which I'm sure they actually do for the most part), but I get the feeling that many of us desire that input.

Anyways, so my armpits hurt (how can armpits hurt??) from doing pushups boy-style today. When I told my dad this, he was like >see! girl's can't do boy's exercises<. Then I was like, a) i'm just a wimpy girl and b) what do you know about working out, man-who-looks-pregnant-because-of-beer? Also, I turned a Naaaasty pair of old torn jeans into cute short shorts today. No correlation to the armpit issue, but I just thought I'd announce it and see if people cared. (Kidding, I don't care if you care. Well, I do care, I should hope you care, but not care so carefully about the care I put into making new short shorts. I'm dumb.)

I have to go to sleep. I studied my history notes for almost 7 hours. I'm a psycho. Sooo psycho. I need a good lovin I think. (Btw, a gooood good lovin will burn a substantial amount of calories, like, a whole meal, gone.)
"But you see, here in America the attitude that is fed to us is that outside of America there live lesser people. "Fuck them, let them fend for themselves." No, Fuck you, they are you. No matter how much you want to dye your hair blonde and put fake eyes in, or follow an anorexic standard of beauty, or no matter how many diamonds you buy from people who exploit your own brutally to get them, no matter what kind of car you drive or what kind of fancy clothes you put on, you will never be them. They're always gonna look at you as nothing but a little monkey. I'd rather be proud of what I am, rather than desperately trying to be something I'm really not, just to fit in. And whether we want to accept it or not, that's what this culture or lack of culture is feeding us." - The Poverty of Philosophy Lyrics (Immortal Technique)


I'm wearing glasses and a huge sweater. My hair is hardly brushed and my eyes are falling asleep. I can't remember the last time I truly wore makeup?According to the current media female ideal, I am a savage. Barely a woman, more of a homeless street crack ho. I'm named after Venus, born after Venus and modeled after Venus. I wonder if she is disapointed?


Do you ever here music and it just makes you feel euphoric. Just makes you want to move your body, touch your body, hear, see, feel, smell your body? Makes you want to run your own fingers through your hair and just love the pattern of the sounds and feel the beat of the music. Your blood starts to pump in sync. The music resets your heart. Gives you a kick start. It's like a massage for my soul. Turn up the bass, the fingers press harder. Like a brilliant massage, if it hurts, it's probably better. And music can definetely hurt you. It can definetely influence you and change you. Violin makes me cry. Trombone makes me strong. The beat gives me grace. When the music stops the blood stops pumping and flowing.

I'm completely mad. I can't think normally anymore. My hands hurt and my head hurts (generally in the brow region). Why is it that? Oh well. I don't mind. Now my elbow hurts but only because I hit it off the desk. Is everyone on the edge of madness, and only those who are "truly mad" express it. I'm not mad like Plath-sticking-her-head-in-the-oven mad. I don't want to hurt myself. I love my mind and body and whatever components add up to me, but am I mad because I express my every thought. Articulated in colour or word or behaviour? God I need to paint something. So bad, I have the itch in my fingers. Something has to come of them quickly. I've got to make something. I've got to create something with them. I've got to be a mother to beauty, at least in my own eyes and fast.

mercy. unless you love me and are interested in the unfiltered thoughts in my brain, ignore this post. completely useless to say this at the end though.

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I feel so inadequate lately when it comes to expressing how I feel. I haven't been able to write anything, paint anything, say anything good. I feel blocked from expression, like a clog or something. Also, I have this pit in my stomache like I'm missing something vital. Everyone knows the feeling. It's the same when you forget something on your desk when you are half way to your destination and it's too late to turn back and you'll just have to start thinking up excuses.

Today on Much's "Story of" is artists talking about their drug use. Don't get me wrong, I love a little narcotics now and then, but I've never felt completely addicted to them. I feel cravings right afterwards, buts thats more mental than physical I think. When something is just so good of course you're going to want more of it, but I've always "just said no" after a small embellishment. Anyways, I guess that is a different story for a different time.

I'm reading the book Sybil right now that is based on the Shirley Mason case wherein Mason suffors from dissociative identity disorder brought on by her mother's horrendous acts of childhood abuse. This book is disturbing me to the core and often makes me wonder about the nature of reality, memory and identity. I could, for all I know, be a dissociated identity of another person! I really want to see the movie now and I'm going to beg Gavin to order it. The book also discusses depression, anxiety and schizophrenia (which should not be confused with dissociative identity disorder). I'm thinking about taking out a book on abnormal psyche that I saw in the library today.

On another note, I'm really sorry to people who I've normally had constant email interaction with. I'm really trying to get away from the computer as much as I can. I'm trying to read more and get outside and have a little more exercise in my day. It's hard to break from normal patterns, but I've got to.

This post has been really disjointed and hard to follow, I'm sure, but it's more for my benefit than yours. Sometimes I've just got to get ideas out of my head someway and I don't really have anyone to genuinely talk to (who doesn't think I'm crazy half the time), so here is some of my brain. Right here. Gbye.
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Things like this remind me I'm straight.

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Why does everyone love Ewan McGregor's penis? I admit, I wouldn't mind Ewan McGregor..... But is it the man attached to the penis, or the penis itself that has caused such a frenzy. (I say, that's what he gets for whipping out the wang for practically every movie but Moulin Rouge and Star Wars. ... Okay, who didn't want to see Obi Wan whip it out?)

In evidence of the McGregor Penis movement:

http://mp-shoot.com/elsewhere/164.html
http://www.canoe.ca/NewsStand/WinnipegSun/Spotlight/2004/09/03/614166.html
http://www.rottentomatoes.com/vine/showthread.php?t=121549&page=2
http://washingtontimes.com/entertainment/20040412-091630-5961r.htm
http://www.mrcranky.com/movies/pillowbook.html
http://efilmcritic.com/review.php?movie=2277&reviewer=283

(You may have to scroll a bit for the penis area on some pages, but if you just search "penis" or "mcgregor" you'll find it.)


And also... because I can't contain myself.


Well, that's quite enough penis for one day.
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Well, I have some good news.

Two tiny feet,
Waving in the air.


















Two tiny hands,
Tug at my hair.

















Cute bottom for patting,
Adorable face.














A bundle of love,
For joy and embrace.











Mum, I have some big news!
CLICK ME!



april fools by the way
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These are the runes I have narrowed down for my tattoo. I don't know how to choose between them. (Btw, these is just the bare bones meanings.) I would like to get the rune on a stone, not just the symbol itself. I think I should just get them all, they are small and relatively inexpensive, so maybe I should just scatter them over my body. Obviously, Pertro would go somewear below the beltline, kenaz behind the ear or back of the neck, but I'm not sure about uruz and algiz. Maybe one on each shoulder... I know that's cliched, but that's where I think of when I think of power and stuff. I still have tons of time to think about it and stuff.

Uruz: (U: Auroch, a wild ox.) Physical strength and speed, untamed potential. A time of great energy and health. Freedom, energy, action, courage, strength, tenacity, understanding, wisdom. Sudden or unexpected changes (usually for the better). Sexual desire, masculine potency. The shaping of power and pattern, formulation of the self. Uruz Reversed or Merkstave: Weakness, obsession, misdirected force, domination by others. Sickness, inconsistency, ignorance. Lust, brutality, rashness, callousness, violence.

Kenaz: (K: Beacon or torch.) Vision, revelation, knowledge, creativity, inspiration, technical ability. Vital fire of life, harnessed power, fire of transformation and regeneration. Power to create your own reality, the power of light. Open to new strength, energy, and power now. Passion, sexual love. Kenaz Reversed or Merkstave: Disease, breakup, instability, lack of creativity. Nakedness, exposure, loss of illusion and false hope.

Perthro: (P: Lot cup, vagina.) Uncertain meaning, a secret matter, a mystery, hidden things and occult abilities. Initiation, knowledge of one's destiny, knowledge of future matters, determining the future or your path. Pertaining to things feminine, feminine mysteries including female fertility, and vagina. Good lot, fellowship and joy. Evolutionary change. Perthro Reversed or Merkstave: Addiction, stagnation, loneliness, malaise.

Algiz: (Z or -R: Elk, protection.) Protection, a shield. The protective urge to shelter oneself or others. Defense, warding off of evil, shield, guardian. Connection with the gods, awakening, higher life. It can be used to channel energies appropriately. Follow your instincts. Keep hold of success or maintain a position won or earned. Algiz Reversed: or Merkstave: Hidden danger, consumption by divine forces, loss of divine link. Taboo, warning, turning away, that which repels.
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Well, I haven't updated in a while (for me anyways) and it's making me feel guilty. Especially because I've sent my confirmation letters to Ottawa University today. So, unless I don't graduate, I'm going to Ottawa next fall! Alison and I are already thinking about the pets we want to get, and what we will use our hotplates for, and other random stuff. I was reading about life at the University and stuff and I'm just really shocked that life has gone by so fast. I was thinking to myself, maybe I should start getting fit again so I don't waste away my youth being sluggish and fat... but then I realized that my youth was going to be over soon! Then I watched this show called The 750lb Man (who died, btw) and there was this guy who was only 26 and he was HUGGGE! And I just want to be able tto do anything I want to with out being impeded physically or emotionally or anything. I just want to be able to do whatever. (Luckily, I'm not huge... I'm pretty good.) But I'm afraid of coming like that. Honestly, watching that documentary made me want to stop eating forever. Plus, I'm switching to my "save for prom" diet... so for lunch I'm bring oatmeal-to-go and juice/water instead of buying lunch. I can save three dollars a day. So I'll have practically 200 dollars!!! (I have a lot to cover, btw.)

* train fare
* admission
* limo
* hotel room
* booze
* food
* police bribe. (giggle)

I don't have to pay for this, but I think the limit on my dress is 150-200 dollars cnd. So poopy. But I'll find a nice one! I know I can do it. Plus, it's not the dress, it's the time you have! Plus, Alysson, I think we are going May 13 to New York, but we're staying over night and stuff. More info later.... That is all for tonight.
People think that I'm rich and spoiled, but they'd be surprised if they switched places with me. Very very surprised. I guess no grass is truly green and we are all doomed to graze the dying, sandy coloured grass of disappointment for our entire lives, dreaming of green grass that doesn't exist. I don't know if that's just a random melancholy thought or something I truly believe in. I don't want to believe it. I'd like to believe that we all deserve contentment, but I'm not completely certain and this worries me. I will only know on my death bed whether or not I worked away my entire life for a happy existence that would never be possible. Maybe I will be content in my last year, month, hour, minute of life and I wonder: will it be worth it? I hope that these things aren't true and that happiness does exist in some permanent form. I want to believe that. After all, why would the phrase "happily ever after" be used so countlessly if it hadn't happened at least once?
Worst Analogies Ever Written in a High School Essay
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.

He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with vegetable soup.

From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and "Jeopardy" comes on at 7pm instead of 7:30.

Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.

Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.

He was as tall as a six-foot three-inch tree.

The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be burried in the credits as something like "Second Tall Man."

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36pm traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19pm at a speed of 35 mph.

The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr. Pepper can.

John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a drier without "Cling-Free."

The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red crayola crayon.
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Hello my dearests,

Well, I had my brows down today. And I had a chat with dad about next summer and this summer. He has this strange illusion that I will be coming back in the summer to work in Picton. Very unlikely. Why drop my job, my place, my friends, my life, just to come back here to work. He says it will be cheaper in the long run. Cheaper when I have less hours, get paid less, have to spend money for gas to get to work, pay psychiatrist because I go crazy staying with him and mom.... Besides, I can get a 12 month contract from the dorms and stay there for around 6 to 7 grand a year. (Sounds like a lot, but rent for a crap 'roach infested apartment is like, $1000 a month if I'm lucky.)

Today I went to Nana's at lunch and fell asleep. I'm really looking forward to when Moon goes to Newfoundland. Half days for a week. Vin Diesel was on Ellen, much to my dismay. I really don't like Vin. But then I fell in love with him in the first five minutes. His mum is an astrologist and he started talking about it and I was like: Yeah!!! Moon! (oo tides). Then Ellen revealed that he used to be a telemarketer and then they called a random person and made him pretend to sell something for as long as he could. It was soo hilarious. I love him so much and I want to marry him and his sexy bald head. Should bald heads be buttered? Of course, like everything I'm curious about,

Diesel is a long time fan and player of Dungeons & Dragons and other role playing games, including Warhammer 40,000, a fact that he proudly states in various interviews.He occasionally makes reference to D&D in his films, such as in XXX where one of the tattoos on Xander Cage (Diesel's character) reads "Melkor," the name of one of Diesel's old player characters. (Melkor is also the original name of the Satan-like character in The Silmarillion and other Tolkien stories.) It has been said that his portrayal of Richard Riddick in the Pitch Black series of movies and games is based somewhat on this favorite character, a Drow "witch-hunter" who was a loner, and that Diesel has the character's image tattooed on his leg. He has also written the foreword to the commemorative book 30 Years of Adventure: A Celebration of D&D, a collection of stories and essays which chronicles the history of D&D. It is also rumored (though never confirmed) that Diesel plays the popular game World of Warcraft under the alias Dish. However such rumors are held highly suspected as being created by Vin Diesel impersonators.

I also learned that his company did the short flick Rockfish that I loved so much when I saw it a few years ago.l (Before the whole inVINsion hahaha... like invasion.)

So, I made a cake today. A chocolate cake. So good. I haven't really accomplished much today. Finished some homework. Nothing else.... Well, I got a little bored and this happened....

Sometimes, it just gets weird. I have a confession, I have a twin brother.... an evil twin named Mackavelli. It seems he has infiltrated my computer, and because he is my twin, he knows everything about me and he can read my brain. I'm reading his brain right now. He's blogging a recipe for chicken paprikash. Sometimes I channel him. I channelled hin today and he was like: "Dear, this is rather like Shakespeare isn't it? Twins and visions and whatnot? Sister, I'm glad that we have connected again. If you want to know what I look like, take photos of yourself, and I'll channel my image to you, so the pictures will come out as me." (Damn him! So goddamned evil. He's blasting Spice Girls in my brain! Get out! Get out!)

So that's exactly what I did, here are the frightening results. (Btw, remember the creepy autopic a week or so back? Perhaps that was Mackavelli.)




(Annie was like: Mackavelli! I thought you killed him in a duel a few years back!)


I'm certifiably insane now. Oh my god. I knew this day would come.
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How to Prepare for Going to College
How to Furnish a Dorm Room
How to Get Familiar with Your New College Town
How to Eat Well, Spend Less at College
How to Beat the Freshman Blues
How to Avoid the Freshman 15

I know that you guys are all probably sick of me freaking out about going to university. But I can't help it. Also, a lot of my friends are getting ready to go to, and this info is probably helpful for them too. I got it all from eHow.com. A lovely help site.
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My philosophy cartoon. It's quite lovely. I hope you laugh.
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Annie and I stayed up until 2am watching tv last night. We also played the sims a bit. I bought a robot from Annie's lvl 8 store. OH! We must of downloaded something unclean and our game was glitching so bad that we had to uninstall and reinstall everything! It took forever, especially because I forgot that we had holiday within a base and not as a seperate pack. That was a pain. And I had already installed university too. I had to reinstall both. So I finally made it to the end and I installed Annie's family and store that she had been working on because she couldn't handle saying goodbye to them. We unfortunately realised that she had lost her business and rank. It was horrible, but when she bought her old store, all the stock was still in there. She just had to rehire staff.

You might not understand if you don't sim.

Amanda moved into one of the small city houses in Bluewater Village (Annie and I are debating changing the name to Bluewater Hamlet cause it's so small). She opened a little hair salon in her front room and did people's hair for a living. Unfortunately, she has a wealth aspiration, so that didn't work out. She wanted to marry someone rich, so she married the extremely wealthy (but horrendously ugly) Malcolm Langraab IV. She moved in with him and he bought her two new cars as a wedding gift. After recieving a ridiculous amount of money and having a fling with an old client (and the housekeeper and gardener) she decided that she wanted a divorce. Unfortunately, the next day she found out she was pregos. I'm terrified that her baby will be as ugly as Malcolm, (who was pushed to plastic surgery). At first he was just going to get a brow reduction and a nose job, but then the first surgery went really really bad, so he ended up getting a whole new face. There's still a little Malcolm there though. And it's really good surgery.

If the baby is ugly, then she is going to leave it with him when they divorce. If it's goodlooking, then she's taking it with her either to another house in Bluewater Village, an apartment in Pleasantview or a townhouse in the city. I haven't decided yet. She may move in with another family, but I'm not sure yet. I guess it all depends. She's still young anyways.

Wow. I'm a nerd. What makes me even nerdier, is that I can't wait to go to University. (Hopefully my roommate: Alli) Thedorm I want to stay in is called 90 University. (It's apartment style.) It's a tad more expensive then the conventional style, but the cheapest of the apartment style. So it's kind of inbetween. Plus, I haven't shared a room with anybody for almost a decade, I'd go nuts. lol. Annie is going to come for a weekend out of every month and hang out and I'll take her to do stuff around town. It will be awesome.

I'm so tired and exhausted. I want to go to sleep and get all cozy under my comfy blankies. Get toasty and snuggle with Sandy. Fall asleep amongst my 80 billion pillows. But I can't go to sleep. This happens every night, for some reason, I postpone going to sleep every night, until I'm falling over from exhaustion. I get a few hours of sleep every night and I feel fine throughout the day. Maybe I have really really bad nightmares that I don't remember, so I subconsciously don't want to sleep. Or perhaps when I sleep, I go to another world where I am battling creatures of such horror I can barely fathom? Either way, my mind is always saying: Just stay up another half hour... Just do it.

Tomorrow I'm waking up at 8am. Finishing my english and a bit of law, then going out for a lobster lunch. (Great, just what my waning appetite needs.) Then I need to pick up some notes from Andrea's house (the dear) and whisk them to my house where I shall finish my law and polish it until I can see my ass in it. Afterwards I will study for history. And that's my tentative plan.

I think the one thing that will get me healthier is sex. I need much more sex in order to stay healthy. Don't believe me? Sex is one of the best things you can do for your body. Just google it, I swear it's sooo good for you. It increases your oxytocin production (makes it easier to deal w/pain), reduces depression (endorphins, duh), helps you slep better, makes you heal faster (those oxytocins again), boosts your immune system, good for your heart (c'mon, it's like aerobics), and for us women, it gives us better skin, protects us from Alzheimers and osteoporosis and heart disease (on account of higher levels of estrogen produced... a result of good sex). Plus, it'll make you pretty damn happy having good sex! Don't be grossed out by my sex knowledge, I've written like, three huge papers on it. lol

Damn, I think I will get to sleep now. I have to face lobster tomorrow... shudder. I think I may just faint. Fainting sounds good... *thunk*.
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Should I become pregnant (ever), please remind me to do this:
http://www.miabellamama.com/site/1349965/product/811-5827234
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Finally, my whole life... I'll I've ever wanted was acceptance.... And now I have it...

Big news today! I got my acceptance letter to my dream university!!! University of Ottawa!! If all goes well, in the fall I will go into the Honours Bachelor of Social Sciences program with my Major being in Anthropology. I've also got a few scholarships from the school to help me out. Now I have to choose my residence and write letters and do all sorts of fun university related things.

P.S. Those things have recently included imitating the sound a kettle makes.

Today was pretty good, pretty lazy, besides the hour or so I was ready to kill my computer because of my online course. I'm a bit frustrated with it, but I decided to take a fresh perspective tomorrow, try to release my bitterness while I sleep. Annie and I played chess, and she won. But there wasn't really a surprise there. We had delicious perogies for supper and sour cream. I loved them. They were so yummy. I'm thinking of having some greatfruit soon as well because I've only eaten perogies today and I think I need a little fruit. I haven't been eating much of anything lately, but just because I'm not really hungry lately.

I read through some of the ersatz-Quentin Tarantino blog that was making such a fuss. Everyone believed it, even big whigs... That was brilliant. Then I started looking at celebrity blogs. If I ever become a celebrity, I'm just keeping this one. It will be cool. And I'll have "priority" comments so my real friends responses are kept and everyone else gets deleted or whatever. It will be so grande. But of course the suckiest part will be that whatever is put in the blog will be an equivalent of a press release or something, so whatever random shit I blurb out will become headline news or evidence in a court case. ("In your blog, Miss Stanley, you mentioned that you 'could just kill Tom Cruise', is that true?") It would be very frustrating giving everyone codenames, and even with the codenames, everyone would know the truth... But then it couldn't be used as evidence. lol.

Today I drew on my thigh with eyeliner out of boredom. I should be doing more homework. Annie and I are playing sims tonight. In fact, I think I will go do that now.
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I made this for Annie. It's kind of an inside thing, making fun of countless things, but I thought I'd post it for good measure.

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I just had a horrifying dream. What made it so horrifying is how real it seemed. It didn't have the conventions of normal nightmares. Sound, colour, physics were all normal (more or less). It was like I had been transported to another place, not like a dream. I could feel and hear and smell everything. I can remember strange details... which is strange.

It started out when I was shopping for a prom dress with a friend. (It might have been Marie actually) and I called my dad to come pick me up at the mall. My cell phone was dying though (in real life it was dying because I didn't charge it yesterday... very weird)and I didn't know if my dad was picking me up at 5 or 7 in front of a certain store. So we drove around in circles around this store waiting for my dad to pick me up. We joked around and stuff, and then for some reason, we were all parallel parking. And when it was my turn, I couldn't drive worth a damn (that always happens in my dreams. very werid also). And my mom and her friends were laughing at me. So I got mad and stormed off into this big department store type thing. I was surprised that it was open because it was dark outside. I wandered around the store looking for a bathroom I ended up in the chocolate section and there were piles of chocolate boxes stacked so high, I felt trapped for a minute, but then I saw an escape and did so. lol. Then I asked someone where the bathrooms were, and they pointed in a direction, towards the back of the store where there were those big industrial doors you see in grocery stores and stuff. So I went back there and found a set of stairs, I went up them and there were several doors. I opened one and it was like a hotel room. When I went back out I realized that all the employees lived up there. It was really freaky for some reason. Then when I was going back down the stairs (and there were way more stairs then when I went up) I looked out a window and saw a plane boarding or deplanning, (not sure which), and on every landing there was a young girl trying to get on tight pants. (The same girl on every landing). Then when I finally got to the first level, I asked one of the girls where the bathroom was, and she told me it was in the music section and pointed me in the right direction. When I had crossed over the aisle in the store, headed towards the music section, the store disappeared and I was standing on one side of a road. Behind me was a huge chain link fence and all around me was dust. The music section was now a small shack (hopefully a bathroom) on the other side of a dusty field with dead grass. There were soldiers standing all around cleaning their weapons and joking around and stuff. They didn't notice me. I went across the field to the shack where there was only one soldier, kind of standing watch on the other soldiers 100 or so feet away. I asked him where the bathroom was and gestured to the shack with his gun. I thanked him and started about finding an entrance. But just then all I heard was gun fire and huge explosions (granades maybe?) and I was terrifyed. I ducked behind a small dilapadated doghouse leaned up against the shack. I started crying because I was so scared. I was afraid someone was going to come shoot me, or throw a grenade in my direction. I covered my face with my arms and tried to be small. I was wearing a white tshirt and shorts, and they were covered with dust. I was so scared. The soldier came over to me and sat next to me. He smiled and put his headphones on me and blasted the music. I can't remember what song it was, but I could hear the blasts faintly behind the music. He had his hands over my ears and the headphones trying to block out a little bit more of the noise. After a few songs he took of the headphones and the explosions and gunfire was over. He banged on the shack and there were some soldiers in there saying stuff like: we're all clear and other soldiery type stuff. Then he told me I could go and to go across the street and turn left and run down the street until I came to his army's base. They'd get me home. But I had to run the whole way. So I ran and he stayed there. I ran as fast as I could across the field and the soldiers raised their guns at me, pointed them at my face and then they said: She can go, she's not one of them. But then one of the soldiers fired a bullet right past my face and started laughing. All the other soldiers laughed too. I started running along the road I ran and ran and ran but the fence was always on my right and the field was always on my left, like I was running on a treadmill. But then I came to a big white house (covered in dirt and dust of course) and there were a few soldiers standing outside it. They ran out to the road with their guns pointed in my face, they inspected me for a moment, and then lowered their guns. I guess it was the base, but I woke up just then, severely freaked out. It seemed so real. And when I think about it now, it seems like a memory of a real event. That's what is frightening me the most. I swear I could feel the wind when the bullet passed by my face, and I could feel the ground shaking when the explosions were happening and I could taste the dust coated in my mouth, the pressure from the nice soldier's hands pressing on my ears. It was very very terrifying. There weren't any monsters in it, but it was still so scary.

I woke up and went to the bathroom.

P.S. Someone told me that if someone describes to you a dream in detail, they are making it up, but this dream is definetly not made up. I just remember every second of it and wrote it down right when I woke up.
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