I’m a 18-year-old Univeristy student who likes to dabble in creative writing. I have dark hair and brown eyes. As am I a true mutt, my father is East Indian and my mom is mainly French Canadian. I speak English and some French. I am also dyslexic and can’t spell to save my life. So if you see any errors on this page deal with it.
I’m engaged to the love of my life, Jacob, and plan to get married in a few years. http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=The_Mistress_T hree
Jacob and I have two cats, Toby and Kali, who are very much like our children. I work in a shoes store part time to pay for my academic habit. I’m almost done my first year of my bachelor of arts. My goal is to become a child psychologist and to work with street children.


more later when i'm not so bored


waiting and watching for my prince
Sadness flies away on the wings of time. ~Jean de La Fontaine or so I'm really hoping.

Things I've recently learned, mostly the hard way...


Geniuses have no more connects or brain cells then normal people they just divert the ones used for social skills for things like math or philosophy.

Its all well and good to judge a man by his supposed morality but it’s speculating on his intention. How do can we know he would have stopped there, the truth was he did wrong and no one but him knew exactly what was going on inside his head? Do you judge a man by what he says or by what he does?

It’s when you find yourself at the end of a long rope with no one to pull you back its then that you figure out who you really are. The scary part is you often don’t like the person you find waiting you at the end of the rope.

I’ve seen plenty of lust in my short life, and each time I’ve thought it might be love. I was wrong and I couldn’t tell the difference because I’ve never known love. I didn’t know what the fuck I was looking for and I still don't think I do.

I think I’m much too pragmatic for my own good. I like the idea of a boyfriend more then I have any boy or man.

My thought is if a rich man is willing to marry when you have nothing to offer him but yourself he must see something in you worth keeping around, he must have the foundations needed to love you. I know humans respond to love and it is in our nature to reciprocate therefore eventually you will
love him too.

Love: It’s like gripping the knife by the blade with someone you care deeply for below you. You don’t want to let it go and hurt the person below you so you hold tighter to the blade and cut yourself deeper.

~We must not expect happiness, it is not something we deserve, when life goes well it’s a sudden gift, it cannot last forever~

You have to savour life where you can; it’s the lesson of the cherry blossom

Karama is the a way you are in blance, never too happy, never too sad


Here is some of the crew I run with

oh my fucking god i can't believe i said that, i feel like such a wigger >.<

This is my little sister


This is Jon the dependable

I have nothing snarky to say about him, he's way too good of a friend to me... other then, he's a nija...!

my boyfriend jacob and his friend jon,


prom

I love music with a passion, listening to it and playing it. My favorite bangs are Nirvana, Benfolds Five, OLP, RCHP, Bang Bang Sugar, Pussap, Tegan and Sarah, and some I.C.P.and Twizid

My favorite Artists are Hikaru Utada, Sarah Hammer, Butterfly Boucher, Marylin Manson, Andrew Loyd Webber, Fiona Apple, Rufus Wainwright. Although my all time favorite artist is Havik, formily of OGTV.
I am also a writer. I attempt fiction and poetry. My efforts have been posted on http://www.fictionpress.com/~themistressthree .
My favorite books are "Crime and Punshiment", "Jane Eyre", "Less then Zero", "Vanity Fair", "Midsummer Night's Dream", LOTR,"Memories of Geshia" and anything by Christopher Moore
.
I enjoy hanging out with my friends, going to movies, and helping out around my community.

I also love art, after going to Versailles and the Lovure I can’t seem to get enough, Godward, Bouguereau, and Waterhouse are some of my favourites.





Here are some really random quotes becuase i love quotes

Have you ever been hurt and the place tries to heal a bit, and you just pull the scar off of it over and over again. ~Rosa Parks

Bad as I like ye, it's worse without ye. ~Irish Proverb

I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt to lose something you never really had. ~From the television show The Wonder Years


My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint. ~Erma Bombeck

Don't cook. Don't clean. No man will ever make love to a woman because she waxed the linoleum - "My God, the floor's immaculate. Lie down, you hot bitch." ~Joan Rivers ~~oh thank god!!!~

Reality is a crutch for people who can't cope with drugs. ~Lily Tomlin

Drugs may be the road to nowhere, but at least they're the scenic route. ~Author Unknown

Half the modern drugs could well be thrown out the window except that the birds might eat them. ~Martin H. Fischer, Fischerisms

I've never had a problem with drugs. I've had problems with the police. ~Keith Richard

God made pot. Man made beer. Who do you trust? ~Graffiti

Logic is one thing and commonsense another. ~Elbert Hubbard, The Note Book, 1927

All men are not slimy warthogs. Some men are silly giraffes, some woebegone puppies, some insecure frogs. But if one is not careful, those slimy warthogs can ruin it for all the others. ~Cynthia Heimel

If the world were a logical place, men would ride side saddle. ~Rita Mae Brown

There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein. ~Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith

Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia. ~E.L. Doctorow

Be obscure clearly. ~E.B. White

I just really use to love him - Fiona Apple

Mirror mirror on the way who's the dumbest of them all? - Jem

There is a land called passive-agressiva and you am its queen - McDreamy - Grey's Anatomy

A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. ~Baltasar Gracián

The surest cure for vanity is loneliness. ~Thomas Wolfe

Ah me! love can not be cured by herbs. ~Ovid

Poems by people a lot better then me


Siren Song
This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistable:
the song that forces men
to leap overboard in squadrons
even though they see the beached skulls
the song nobody knows
because anyone who has heard it
is dead, and the others can't remember
Shall I tell you the secret
and if I do, will you get me
out of this bird suit?
I don't enjoy it here
squatting on this island
looking picturesque and mythical
with these two feathery maniacs,
I don't enjoy singing
this trio, fatal and valuable.
I will tell the secret to you,
to you, only to you.
Come closer. This song
is a cry for help: Help me!
Only you, only you can,
you are unique

At last. Alas
it is a boring song
but it works every time.
— Margaret Atwood, 1976 —


The Last Rose of Summer

Thomas Moore (1779–1852)


’TIS the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred, 5
No rosebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
To give sigh for sigh.

I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem; 10
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o’er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden 15
Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love’s shining circle
The gems drop away. 20
When true hearts lie withered
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?

Patterns
by Amy Lowell


I walk down the garden paths,
And all the daffodils
Are blowing, and the bright blue squills.
I walk down the patterned garden-paths
In my stiff, brocaded gown.
With my powdered hair and jewelled fan,
I too am a rare
Pattern.As I wander down
The garden paths.

My dress is richly figured,
And the train
Makes a pink and silver stain
On the gravel, and the thrift
Of the borders.
Just a plate of current fashion,
Tripping by in high-heeled, ribboned shoes.
Not a softness anywhere about me,
Only whalebone and brocade.
And I sink on a seat in the shade
Of a lime tree.For my passion
Wars against the stiff brocade.
The daffodils and squills
Flutter in the breeze
As they please.
And I weep;
For the lime-tree is in blossom
And one small flower has dropped upon my bosom.

And the plashing of waterdrops
In the marble fountain
Comes down the garden-paths.
The dripping never stops.
Underneath my stiffened gown
Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin,
A basin in the midst of hedges grown
So thick, she cannot see her lover hiding,
But she guesses he is near,
And the sliding of the water
Seems the stroking of a dear
Hand upon her.
What is Summer in a fine brocaded gown!
I should like to see it lying in a heap upon the ground.
All the pink and silver crumpled up on the ground.

I would be the pink and silver as I ran along the paths,
And he would stumble after,
Bewildered by my laughter.
I should see the sun flashing from his sword-hilt and the buckles
on his shoes.
I would choose
To lead him in a maze along the patterned paths,
A bright and laughing maze for my heavy-booted lover,
Till he caught me in the shade,
And the buttons of his waistcoat bruised my body as he clasped me,
Aching, melting, unafraid.
With the shadows of the leaves and the sundrops,
And the plopping of the waterdrops,
All about us in the open afternoon --
I am very like to swoon
With the weight of this brocade,
For the sun sifts through the shade.

Underneath the fallen blossom
In my bosom,
Is a letter I have hid.
It was brought to me this morning by a rider from the Duke.
"Madam, we regret to inform you that Lord Hartwell
Died in action Thursday se'nnight."
As I read it in the white, morning sunlight,
The letters squirmed like snakes.
"Any answer, Madam," said my footman.
"No," I told him.
"See that the messenger takes some refreshment.
No, no answer."
And I walked into the garden,
Up and down the patterned paths,
In my stiff, correct brocade.
The blue and yellow flowers stood up proudly in the sun,
Each one.
I stood upright too,
Held rigid to the pattern
By the stiffness of my gown.
Up and down I walked,
Up and down.

In a month he would have been my husband.
In a month, here, underneath this lime,
We would have broke the pattern;
He for me, and I for him,
He as Colonel, I as Lady,
On this shady seat.
He had a whim
That sunlight carried blessing.
And I answered, "It shall be as you have said."
Now he is dead.

In Summer and in Winter I shall walk
Up and down
The patterned garden-paths
In my stiff, brocaded gown.
The squills and daffodils
Will give place to pillared roses, and to asters, and to snow.
I shall go
Up and down,
In my gown.
Gorgeously arrayed,
Boned and stayed.
And the softness of my body will be guarded from embrace
By each button, hook, and lace.
For the man who should loose me is dead,
Fighting with the Duke in Flanders,
In a pattern called a war.
Christ!What are patterns for?

I strongly dislike when people ignore me… But I won’t get into that. Annoying backward parents, sappy teen movies and pop tarts (of the prepackaged, fake persuasion) top the list as well. Other then that it takes a lot to get under my skin.

I loath it when a guy acts like a caveman, my dad does that and it sucks. Smoking is gross as is drug use and alcohol abuse. Also when people jump to conclusions and make stereotypes they miss out on so much hurt people for no reason. Ignorance really bothers me. So do people who get their kicks from hurting others.



To be totally honest I dislike being dumped, being underestimated, overestimated, yelled at, having writers block, being totally off cue, being cut off and spechless