under the rails and over my breath.

Well, it appears as though I am a zealous hoarder.  Apart from that I am many things, including at this very moment just disappointed in myself.  But I don't take much to being excluded out of a cult that is my father and sister.  That's fucked up.  First of all - mine is mine and yours is yours and when I specifically ask you not to kill someone, write on something, eat something or touch else things, I mean it - I'm generally not fucking kidding around.  And if I am, you'll know.

Agh, maybe I was being stupid but I hate that instantaneous, "Arina, don't embarass yourself."

Well, fuck you.

I just need to commence growling really low and scratch something.  Maybe I will turn into a tiger today - maybe that is the day.  A Bengal tiger like in Life of Pi, which was so good! I had to read it for my Professional Writing class, and I really loved it - the torturous mood along with scientific leanings and foreign accents and local ports just really touch a place in my heart.  Plus the whole ordeal is so reminiscent of things I know about people close to me.  It's unbelievable.  It seems like a lot of people go through whole fucking seas of shit to come to Canada, and then when they get here, all they get is just Stephen Harper and "OntarioWorks" and loans and welfare and the fucking cold weather.  And then they want to go back, if there's anything to go back to.

I mean, I'm sure there's something other here.  I know it, but sometimes I'm just tired of proving it to myself.  I feel like all this country is is a bunch of yahoos with nothing better to do but wear warm clothing, do drugs and start drama.  Maybe Europe is more racist but it is more lively.   Maybe one is better than the other.  Maybe not.

I am just really frustrated.

As for me, all you invisible readers out there - well, I'm 19,  I go to York University in Ontario, Canada and I am typing this on a broken macbook.  I spilled sprite on it when my boyfriend was over at my residence at the end of last year at U of T.  I went there for my first year, and I mean, I liked it - I just like this better.  I made a lot of good friends there, which now seem completely irreplaceable.  That kind of makes me sad, seeming as York is just full of beautiful people trying too hard to dress themselves up, but at the same time, maybe I will stand out among that lot? That's probably pretty egotistical, but it's just a thought.  I just haven't found a lot of substance there yet, you know?  I'm still looking.  And I will for a long time I'm sure.

I work at a tiny Pub down the road from me.  I work with wonderful people and I serve dirty old wonderful men.  They are regularly great.  And I make great tips! I just recently landed this job after a summer of working at an art gallery camp with some of the most amazing women I've met in a while.  It's a shame none really stayed back.  It was incredibly painful to disband our team.  I really wish that they were all still here, and that I could get to know them more.  But, I can't.  They're off in Europe or other universities and I will have to see them whenever I can.

I live in a quiet suburb near some of my middle school friends who I barely speak to anymore and my 2 high school history teachers, one of which I was deathly in love/lust with till the beginning of university, and still get flutters about when I see.  It's nice here, but a little boring.  There's strip malls all around and a nice public school nearby.  We have lots of trees and a park 2 minutes away.

My boyfriend, who I met at my high school crush's youth group is a kaleidoscope and a half.  He is Persian, and part Jewish.  He used to be Muslim, Christian and now more or less agnostic.  He is kindhearted and loud and incredibly social.  He can talk his way in and out of anything.  He's also rather hairy, and he grows a nice shadow every day or so, which I absolutely adore.  He's scruffy and he dresses well and we're both trying to get to the gym more (ergo, at all).  He's also pretty much a genius - he can do math equations and bank accounts (not yet, but soon, I'm sure) and science in a jiff.  Whereas I can paint, write and play the guitar.

We are pretty oil & water but we make it work.  In fact, in February '10 it's going to be 2 years that we've been hanging on to each other.  I'll tell you the story of our Beginning another day - it's a long one.  Needless to say (for me, but I guess not for you), we've had a lot of firsts together, and I don't mean The First First, although we had that too, but that might be too much information.  Anyway, we've done that flying on a string thing at Wonderland, he's made me try shisha (oh my sweet goodness of life how tasty tobacco can be!), I took him to an art museum and a debate about God.  We went away to Picton at the beginning of September and it already seems like ages ago.  For those of you not reading in Canada, Picton is situated in a tiny island in the middle of the St. Lawrence river and it is basically your idea of a small, sweet picturesque town - kind of like in Gilmore Girls.  In fact, very much like Gilmore Girls.

The trip was magical and great - we did a day of wine tasting which was wonderful and eye-opening.

But anyway, he's here to pick me up.  He's taking me to his church! We'll see how that goes hahaha... I'm sure I will let you know though!

Ciao. Ak.