Meet The Blogger
Rules: Just insert your answers to the questions below. Tag at least 10 followers. I was tagged by ishipyouandme
Nickname: Usually Nat or Tash. I used to have a friend that called me Natato, as in Natasha the Potato.
Birthday: April 12, 1995
Sexuality: Pansexual I guess.
Time Zone: Mountain Standard
Current time and date: 1:15 PM Tuesday, August 16, 2014
Average hours of sleep: 6 or 7
The last thing I Googled was: My bus route to get to work
My most used phrase(s): I call people dorks a lot. And I tell people they’re my favorite all the time, and then tell them I do actually call everyone that. (Although I do in fact have one genuine favourite person).
First word that comes to mind: Fairy
Last thing said to a family member: Yeah that’s okay, bye.
One place that makes me happy and why: The entirety of Vancouver Island. I just moved here a month ago and I’m in love.
How many blankets I sleep under: One, until I’m in my apartment next week. Then it’ll be like 3 and Sam will steal half of them in the middle of the night.
Favorite beverage(s): Tea. Pumpkin spice tea especially.
The last movie I watched in the cinema: How to Train Your Dragon on sort of a first date.
Three things I can’t live without: My crystals, fairly constant love and affection, cigarettes.
Something I plan on learning: The art of hula hooping. I’d love to be good enough to get a busking license and spend a summer hooping in downtown Victoria.
A piece of advice for all my followers: You will get there. Through every rocky moment, every shitty job, shitty relationship, shitty experience, you will get there. You’re meant to be learning along the way and you’ll genuinely appreciate the eventual good places that you come to in your life. There is always a reason to keep going.
I firmly believe that the reason many Slytherins were easily convinced to join Voldemort was because they were treated like shit by the rest of the houses while they were growing up. Imagine spending seven of the most important years of your life being told that you were part of the bad house and therefore bad yourself. Everyone boos your quidditch team. All the houses will hang out with everyone except you. You grow up being hated by your fellow students and many of your teachers.
Now imagine someone comes along and tells you that you’re not worthless and bad. That you’re invited to join a family where you will right the wrongs committed against you. You have the opportunity to be wanted and powerful instead of a hated outcast. Several of your former classmates are telling you how great it is. How you’re welcomed and needed. These are the kids you grew up with. The classmates who went through all the same things you did. Being a Death Eater sounds pretty good now.
I’ve been waiting for a post like this.
BLESS THIS POST
I was always bothered by the scene at the end of book 7, when the students are asked whether they want to fight the incoming Death Eater army. The Slytherin students are all like, “Uh. No?” And they’re treated like terrorists for it. In the movie, they’re even locked in the school dungeons while everyone cheers.
Did nobody stop to think and realize that if the Sytherin students had stood and fought, they would have been facing their own parents on a battlefield? Even if some of them weren’t really on board with the whole Death Eater thing, expecting them to fight was just cruel. They were children. The oldest of them were seventeen. Babies. And their own professors were asking them to shoot illegal killing spells at Mum and Dad.
Imagine you are a Slytherin and you are staying behind to defend your school and maybe restore some honor to your House. The other students are all giving you mistrustful glares. You know they’re waiting for you to start hitting them in the back with stunning spells. You consider doing it, too, because you’re already starting to regret the choice you made.
Then the battle begins, and you are up against a crowd of strangers who aren’t strangers at all. You recognize voices, muffled behind masks but still piercingly familiar. Your uncle. Your cousin. Your best friend’s big sister.
And then you see a tall man in expensive grey robes. A moment later you notice the small, curvy woman next to him, wand ready. They are guarding each others backs.
You recognize their shoes.
I always though this. And at the end of The Philosopher’s Stone? Slytherin had worked incredibly hard, and Dumbledore made sure that just enough points were given to students who had done about a million things against the school rules so that they would lose. I think that Slytherin house was victimised a lot, and I kind of hope now that the likes of Scorpius Malfoy won’t have to go through such prejudice. Perhaps, after the war, people realised that all Slytherins weren’t to blame Probably not, though.
I’m so fucking weird
I’m the nicest rude person you’ll ever meet.
I don’t give a fuck about anything but at the same time, I care about a lot.
I hate people but I want to be everyone’s friend.
I hate myself but I’m completely fabulous.
I need help.
- Do not forget Michael Brown
- Do not forget how the media dehumanized him and tried to justify his murder
- Do not forget how peaceful protests were painted as savage riots
- Do not forget police armed with military grade weapons terrorized and arrested black civilians
- Do not forget Darren Wilson being awarded over $200,000 in fundraiser donations for murdering an unarmed black child
- Do not forget that this system was not built to defend us, but to control us
- Do not forget Ferguson
Lillian Weber, a 99-year-old good Samaritan from Iowa, has spent the last few years sewing a dress a day for the Little Dresses For Africa charity, a Christian organization that distributes dresses to children in need in Africa and elsewhere.
Weber’s goal is to make 1,000 dresses by the time she turns 100 on May 6th. So far, she’s made more than 840. Though she says she could make two a day, she only makes one – but each single dress she makes per day is personalized with careful stitchwork. She hopes that each little girl who receives her dress can take pride in her new garment.
God bless her