My guinea pig died today. I never really liked it. But the weird part is, I cried. More than five times. We always had this whole I-hate-you-you-hate-me thing going on, but I miss it. I know, I'm rambling over a rodent, but.. I don't know. I always leave my room expecting to hear her knawing on her water dispenser or scurrying around her cage but I don't, and.. I don't like it..
My brain's automatically putting those sounds around the house now. She would sit there squeeking forever and it was weirdly comforting, as annoying as it was.
I can't help but feel guilty, too. We were never really home to regularily do things for her and it was Cory's pet, so when I was home, I expected her to do it, but she never did. I feel bad because I can't imagine the pains he must have been in in the last bit of her life..
I'm crying again. I know it's retarded, crying over a rodent and writing in your blog about it but.. it kills me.
GAHD. I hate being anemic, short and thin skinned. Every picture I take turns out awkward considering my height, and the fact that my skin is vein-y. Seriously. I honest-to-God hope that this goes away before I turn twenty. I really do.
Today, I saw a lady in Subway. She had a rhinestone riddled baseball cap with an American flag pattern on it, an American flag bandana around her neck, a shit with an American flag on it. She was also wearing a red vest with blue pants. Her family, on the other hand, just had red, white and blue beads around their necks. I got the message once I saw the hat, though.
As they left, I turned around to see their truck had a full size American flag draped over their cargo. As they went to leave the parking lot, I spotted the license plate: