Sunday, April 15, 2012
Miley Cyrus has Celiac disease or a Gluten Intolerance
For you who don't know, Celiac disease is a condition where when you eat products containing the protein gluten (in Wheat, Rye and Barley) your body attacks it in the small intestine, destroying the lining of Cilia, which help you absorb nutrients. It can occur anytime in life, from early childhood to old age, and for me, last year. That means you can't eat anything processed with wheat or you get severe stomach aches and more of your intestine dying. But symptoms vary in every individual. My friend who has it has no symptoms, whereas my cousin can't even use pans that have touched wheat, and then there's me who isn't affected unless it's the amount in a bite of bread. There's also Gluten intolerance, which is the same thing without the harm to your small intestine, and Miley Cyrus hasn't reported which one it is, and i don't blame her. I don't even know which one it is, but i still treat it like Celiac for safety.
Now Tommi, why are you so happy that this poor girl has been stricken by this terrible disease? The reason is simple: she's a Celebrity, and therefore will bring more awareness to this issue. There's a good amount of specially made food out there for those who need it, but things like Airplane flights, eating out for lunch, and Italian restaurants are a little harder to find ways to not go hungry. For example, there's a trip my class can go on where we visit other countries. The program gives you food, and the only choices are Vegan and Regular, so i am unable to go on the trip because of my condition. Also camps are hard, because there's not many of us, and we still have to eat. I go to a camp over summer and come back hungry from nearly starving for a week, but its what i have to do to go there, so i do it.
So basically I want more awareness for more opportunities. But i still don't want to wish it on other people. that's just mean.
That's my spiel. Ich hoffe du magst es :)
Plants vs Zombies pt 1
1st Strike
Everything is different now. Now there's zombies everywhere attacking. But they haven't reached Masonville. Not yet.
I saw the first arrive not too long ago. He stumbled along in the other direction; so no threat. But that means i can't experiment anymore. My creation must now show its true worth. Down to the basement and up I carry my treasures. Of course they aren't awake yet. If my calculations are correct they will need one more key subsistence.
I see more shapes stumbling, some falling, as they reach the top of Johns Street. I plant the first one in the ground, a firer. This is it, I use my 'sunnet' and catch an orb of pure sunlight; pure energy. That's my life source for now. My only protection. Let's hope it works. I press the orb to the seedling as the first one walks up, the scout. At least he's in front of the rest. And i have the last resort tucked in my belt; I've heard that death by zombie is painful.
It grows, just a little because they were my backup shooters for if there was a shortage of sunlight. It opens its eyes: black, beauty. It looks back at me, then the scout. It fires and hits! Over and over and over till rotten flesh falls in front of me. I toss the body into the fireplace with a smile. We might survive. There's a chance now. I plant more, waiting the couple of moments i must so i don't drain the sun until i have a firing squad and a couple of regeneration plants for help with sunlight. Its all set. So far their only attacking the front side. I guess they follow their scout religiously.
Their scouter zombie is now in my fireplace. Booyah. I'm gonna need a bigger fireplace. Better put that on the list. And I'll get Chaz on making more plants. At least we can harvest their parts and so we need no more supplies than what we already have.
It seems they are very ordered creatures: they keep the weak ones in the front followed by a mob of about equal individuals and end with one or two strong ones. either that or they are incredibly slower as they get stronger. Well it don't matter; we'll live. Time for celebration. We'll sit around our fire of the invaders and drink our spoils. For it will be a while till the next attack because the radar shows nothing in a 2day radius. We'll go forage and build. Wait for next time.
1 down
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I made this up a while ago... thought i might as well try to continue it... you see, this is why i need a fanfiction... but oh well. I don't do many stories on video games for it to really matter...
Friday, April 13, 2012
Russians like me best...
I live in a small town, so its hard for me to imagine that someone, twenty one someones all the way form Russia have been reading what i have to say. Wow. They are secound on my list of veiws by country, but the US doesn't count because it counts when i look at it and soo.... not very fair.
Here's the list:
Russia 21
Germany 5
Canada 2
United Kingdom 2
Malaysia 2
Australia 1
Australia too, gosh. Those people have the best accents, along with Germans, British, Russian... come to think of it all accents are cool ;] I need to get me one of those....
Wanna Hear Me Sing?!?
(means Tommi (me) on the piano)
So if you like more classical, simple, choirish music listen to Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen here.
""Me singing Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen. Its not a perfect
performance, but you know, i kinda like it ;]anyone like my thumb ring?""
Cool, i didn't know i could do that^
YOU CAN ACTUALLY SEE IT RIGHT HERE!!!!
If you're like, classical music isn't me, i'm more into pop/rock with some sorta acoustic setting then listen to Viva la Vida by Coldplay here:
"Me singing Viva la Vida by Coldplay. I think this is considered
acoustic... but i'm not really sure..Isn't the credit music nice?And who likes
my Coke PJ pants? They're nice and warm"
And if you don't like classical or pop/rock, then you can go curl up in your emo corner and eat french fries 'cuz i'm sorry but i don't have a video for you :(
Yeah, so i wanted to let the few people who actually read this know about this AMAZING MILESTONE in my life ;]
(lol does anyone else think its funny i'm the first view on both of my videos? I do :)
Thursday, April 12, 2012
My Favorite Lines from Songs
"Just a Puppet on a lonely string"
-----Viva La Vida Coldplay
"Don't try to fix me I'm not broken"
-----Hello Evanescence
"Bis du da, Wo ich auch bin"
(are you there, where i am too)
-----Unzertrennlich Revolverheld
"Bis du einsam neben mir?"
(are you alone next to me)
-----Halt Dich an mir fest Revolverheld Ft. Marta Jandova
"Seid bereit Sternkind, Ich kann eine Stimme hoeren"
(be ready star kid, I can hear a star)
-----Totale Finsternis Tanz der Vampire
"In Meine welt, Faengst du ein neues Leben an"
(in my world, you begin a new life)
-----A Whole New World (German obviously) Disney
"But we kick 'em to the curb unless they look like McJagger"
-----TickTock Ke$ha
"Your face it haunts, my once pleasent dreams"
-----My Immortal Evanescence
"Ich Kann nicht mehr"
(I can't take anymore)
-----Ich Kann nicht Mehr Jennifer Rostock
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
What True Writing Should Be
For many a night have I asked of the moon: when will we learn the meaning of true literature?
Those who create foolish script should be struck down by the strong and worthy writings. If they are not, the fire of Literature will be forever fed with nothing but the sickly supple chips from the Shaffer tree, which will never produce anything to rival the blaze of true writing.
Such a small flame never causes much change, but the fire made from the wood of the mature oak will brush everything that draws near it, dancing over it and leaving trails, memories of warmth and light that could never be forgotten.
Strong wood will keep the flame dancing for a long time, but we instead of learning to overcome the difficulties of growing the mighty oak, we only learn how to grow a small, fragile tree suitable only for essay and educational writing. And we can only watch as it waits to be crushed with the tiniest gust of wind, and leaves our memory for good.
Great writers like Shakespeare never had to dirty his writing with integrating commentary with quotes, so why must we? Why not lay the foundation of creativity, adventures, and how one guides readers through the wonders of space and time? Why do we not teach the style of those great books we enjoy?
The problem is literature must flow freely from the mind and be arranged on paper much like rain falls from the sky to collect in ponds and puddles so it fits in with everything else. If one attempts to cast it into something it is not, it will forever remain dull and pale like concrete. So, it is something one cannot teach, but instead one must look at themselves closely to find where they can lay their creativity to better match the landscape inside of them, because there’s no use in copying anyone else. Emotion, emotion one knows and feels, must flow through the lines and even trickle between the letters so it can better seal its meaning, or else it will crumble before you bring it to the fire.
Without feeling and anguish, there is nothing but black letters muddling a pure page of possibility. My thought is: Use it wisely, and do not forget your glue gun.
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It was for an assignment. We were suppose to try and use voice, which is never too hard for a writer :]
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Catch of the day
#3316192
#3315244

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Kids are cute :)
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Monday, April 9, 2012
Through the Glass
Latiku
Goombas
I turned from the window, half-falling as i scurried over to the giant portrait that forever reminds me of her absence. Oh Peach. When will i see you again? I had tried to defeat that darn Bowser, the one who took her away, but time after time I was left unconscious on the floor until Latiku came to bring me back to the safety of the palace. Only for a while, until i once again charged down the hall towards Peach's face only to see it turn to Bowser just before I entered his lair. Last time I lost too many hearts to go back, and Toad sent me here to wast away my time until i heal. Problem is, I won't eat anything so i don't see how any of this will work. This is about the time in the day when i wished i wasn't some character in a G-rated video game and could get wasted like any fool who got his true love ripped from him, but alas, no fire-water for me. Stupid laws.
I slam my fist down on the ledge under her picture. Darn you! Why did you have to leave me! Why didn't you come back? I've tried so hard, and my anger was so great that i jumped on the little ledge and tried to smash through the painting. Without it, maybe i could forget, or at least that's what my delusional mind was thinking. Problem was, my fist went through the picture, bubbling as the rest of me followed, as i was caught off guard. I tumbled into a new room; red and circular. It was plain apart from a slide on one side. I have nothing to lose, why not?
Without farther thought, down i went, head first. Coins appeared and i aimed for them. After a while, i noticed myself smiling, laughing, cursing as i missed them. This is a lovely distraction. I slid down, almost falling off once or twice, but it didn't matter to me anymore. I had nothing to live for, and therefore slid near the edge with no screams or fear, just laughter.
Sadly, the end came and i came to another room. It was red and circular like the first, apart from a raised part in the middle that held in its center a shining blue star. Oh yay, another one of these worthless things. I went up and grabbed it. Its weird, whenever i grab one it forces a smile on my face and me to do this, weird twist thing that doesn't seem possible. But i did it willingly this time, still breathing from the excitement of the slide. I go to the door that appeared on the opposite side from the slide until i hear a noise from behind.
"Mario?" Its a whisper that brings back memories of sunlight and fire-flowers. I turn quickly and there in the corner is the one from the portrait, clad in her beautiful pink gown and her golden curls just right.
"God, I'm halluciating now." I go to turn, when the delusion steps toward me and lays her soft hand on my thick shoulder. The touch. I know that is not imagination. I lean forward, and lips meet mine. The sweet embrace is warmer than a room of fire-flowers. If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up. But as she pulls away, i see real feeling in her eyes, and i know I've found her. "Peach. Why... Why are you here?"
"Bowser stuck me behind the mirror, but never thought that I could hide in here." She grabbed my hand and led me to the slide mouth, and showed me a cage underneath where one could hide for a short while. "I waited here for what seems like forever." She kissed my lips again, and it was nice that the feeling was still strong, and mutual. "I thought you would never find me. I could sometimes here you through the painting. I would scream and shout, but it seems like you can't here from the outside... I missed you so much."
"But i found you." I grabbed her hands in mine and clasped them tight, "We're together now. We can leave."
Her grip, stronger than mine at first, slackened, and tears welled in her deep blue eyes. "Only Bowser can open the door. He has the only key."
"I'll find a way. When does he come?"
A door slammed and a roar raged from above, "PRRIINCCESSSSSSS! I WILL FIND YOUUUU!!"
We glanced at each other, and strong fear filled her blue eyes and they grew larger and larger to hold its quota, "Hurry" she whispered as she shoved me down into the cage. We heard roars and screeching as he approached via slide.
"WHERE ARE ALL THE COINS?!? DARN IT PRINCESSSSS THAT'SSSS THE FUN PARTT!!"
We felt his weight buckle the slide a bit, and then heard the crash of his footsteps. OK, maybe he isn't that fat... But I'm the one telling the story and i get paid to make him look bad. He walked to the middle of the room yelling, and i slowly crept out of the cage. He was tossing his head in anger, fire spewing from his mouth as i crept up and jumped him. He whirled in anger, until he realized that one, he can't shake me and two, he can't grab me with his small arms. He was defenseless, and after hours of me doing my annoying Mario noises and multiple out of tune renditions of my theme song, he cracked.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
List of Fun
I'm saddened by the fact that i can't find a list of fun, weird, interesting things to do on my free time. Shame.
So i'm making my own!!
- Draw a giant chess board on the street and play chess/checkers with friends
- Build a sculpture out of post-it notes or Oreo filling
- Make cookies shaped like something abnormal (ie mustaches, bottles, watering cans)
- walk around with a guitar and sing
- Reenact funny scenes (ie 'The British are coming!' or Narnia or Wizard of Oz)
- Go garage sale hopping
- have a PICNIC!!!!
- Make up a short musical and videotape it
- Find Four-leaf clovers
- Play 'wheres waldo' in a giant store/mall
- Have Tea like the English
- make a parody of a music video
- Go frog hunting
- Arrange a scavenger hunt with a reward of free ice cream
- GO CAROLING
- search MLIA and plan to give someone an MLIA moment
- Have a costume party where you dress as famous people!
- Make an awesome cake like from Cake Boss
- Start a band
- play tackle spoons (or pool spoons with WATERPROOF cards)
- Learn to duck call
- Try to herd cattle/sheep/cats/etc
- play capture the flag across a whole neighborhood
- play kickball
- build a giant sculpture for no reason
- Make a bouquet for the elderly
- Drink a coke
- Do something you're scared of
- Make someone happy with something unexpected
- Have a party centered around one thing (ie Pie party, Carrot party, wrapping paper party)
- Call someone you haven't talked to in a while
Eventually i'm gonna do everything on this list, some i've already done, some not. Anywho I know i will have fun with this list unlike any other on e i've seen on the Internet!!
Mysteryseeker.com
my favs of the day,
smile, you deserve to be happy~
go into a movie theater and shout avada kedavra to everone you see
(The term was actually Llamas but i thought it was cute :)
A slogan is a memorable motto or phrase used in a political, commercial, religious, and other context as a repetitive expression of an idea or purpose. The word slogan is derived from slogorn which was an Anglicisation of the Scottish Gaelic
sluagh-ghairm tanmay (sluagh "army", "host" + gairm "cry").[1]
Slogans vary from the written and the visual to the chanted and the vulgar. Their simple rhetorical nature usually leaves little room for detail, and as such, they serve perhaps more as a social expression of unified purpose, rather than a projection for an intended audience.Haha ;]
Friday, April 6, 2012
City of Streetlights
The smell of fast food at every corner is the hardest thing to come to terms with. Apparently everything can be fried, and everyone seems to live off of the food served up by a fat greasy man with a cart. It's sad, because I remember the savory air floating around outside the diner and bakery in the small town i'm from. It's hard to beat ol' Maybelle Clemetine's cooking. She was the bright and lively daughter of Mrs. Clemetine who owned the Diner, and made the best Angle Food cake in the world. But now i'm forced to the fodder like everyone else in this city. Bleh.
The worst thing is the stars are gone here, the streetlights and lit windows seem to scare them away, if the noise and bustling hasn't already. There's no night chill either, just the warm breath from the the hard-worked people steaming out from every atom. Only the top few get the chance to laugh. Those would be the movie stars. The ones who made it. Me, I'm part of that group now, i guess.
It still seems a bit surreal. Here, the stars are not something that makes you humble, instead, they're people. They are you. They, exault you like Greek Gods. I'm nothing more than a girl from a small town no one has ever heard of and yet, I get the star treatment. Why?
But i still go on to the shoot, play the parts, master the look. I get by, days flutter on the wings of butterflies who no longer wish to stay. Almost when I'm use to it, the last scene is shot and I'm sent back home for a few days. Nothing is the same. People who pushed me down only to rub my nose in the dirt are now my 'Best Friend'. Even my true friends can't stop asking me about the movie, my costars, the streetlights shining like stars on the wet pavement. I feel alone. Why can't they just go back to what it was like before? Why did i ever take the job?
I leave the last reminants of home in the dust of my new shiny streetcar. I go back to the city of streetlights. Its the only place i know anymore. The only place i can find the tinyest wedge to fit in and become a part of. Tears stream down leaving cool trails of running makeup. I don't know who i am anymore. Its like i've faded into dust.
Welcome home, to the place where the streetlights shine like stars.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Comments about Pinterest
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
PicTale: Different Pair of Slippers

She was every much herself. She was the dancer who would instead of walking down the street, danced on the tips of her toes through the waterlogged gutters through town. And it was the difference that made the other's attack her. She had always been a little shy, never the center of attention, and they fed on that. She left the studio shortly after, defeated with her beautiful eyes puffy from the crying. But her spirit was not broken. She was determined to make her mark in the only way she knew how: Dance.

She cut her hair as any strong woman does when she dedicates her life to something. She went short, and now she could not hide from the eyes threatening to extinguish the flame of her soul. No. Now she was forced to look them right back in the eye and show them her determination to succeed. The shyness never left though, but its what made her a true performer. One cannot be great without a obstacle to surpass, and every day she danced through life she kept her eyes low, but her head high. She will make it.

She was the white rose among the red. She was less beautiful to the eye in the whole because she did not fit the picture, but alone she shined through anything, never getting soiled from anything else. Her purity gained her momentum and soon she was accepted into the school of her dreams, full ride. Only one of her former haters had come as far as she did, and they became great peers and friends. She was no longer out casted.

She continued in her conquest, showing angles of her motions that no one had ever noticed before. Soon a flick of a hand would wow the clusters of directors who begged her to go on. She left her school early to pursue her dream. She had surpassed all that had held her back. She is a star.

But she never lost herself. Through the constant clicks of the cameras, she was still herself: the white rose among the reds. Even as the reds groups and plunged their thorns towards her, none of the scratches stayed. She healed through all the hurt, the pure white individual of the society. She was a star, a legend, a hero.

Even as she grew old, retired, slowed down, the loss of mobility didn't mean a lost of passion. She had learned to support herself with nothing, with one tiny strand of her being, and made it through the impossible. Instead of breaking and scattering the pieces trying to cut those who broke her, she picked them up and thanked them for the change and the opportunity to reassemble them to create something beautiful out of it. She created something that even through many drops and kicks and scattering moments, was impermeable to anything anyone did to her. And that will never die.
PS: Click on the pics to see the website. All things from pinterest seem to be about ballerinas, gardens, and weddings... next time i'll do one from DeviantART ;] then it'll be all nerdy and stuff ;]