I miss him already!

So about a week ago, I was at the Russell House Tavern in Harvard Square. I was with some friends after the Longy Opera and was having dinner (at midnight, of course, cuz that's when everyone eats dinner). My mother texted me (because she stays up about as late as I do), asking what I was doing. I told her I was with friends and she said she'd talk to me later. I didn't think much of it; I assumed she just wanted to say hi and that was that. So, I called her the next afternoon on my way back to school from work. We chatted for a second about what was up (she was driving to Savannah with my aunt and great-aunt), then she gave me the sad news: Junior, our guinea pig, had passed away. He was getting up there in years; he had lived with us for almost 6 years, meaning he was probably at LEAST 6 1/2. Anyway, I was really sad to hear this. A few years back (November 2008), our other guinea pig, Tuffy, died. Since then, Junior had been our only one, and I felt bad that he didn't have his playmate. The main reason we had not gotten another guinea pig was that my mom was taking care of dogs so much that she just didn't have the time to take care of a new guinea pig, so we were essentially "phasing out" of guinea pigs. It was really sad when Junior died because that meant no more guinea pigs to see when I went home. He was indeed a good boy.
Thinking about it, I realized how sometimes our instincts can be dead-on. While I was home for winter vacation, I tried to make sure I at least went and talked to Junior every day. The day I left to come back to Boston, I put my things in the car and was getting ready to leave when I told my dad (who was driving me to the airport) I needed to get something. I went back inside and went straight to Junior's cage to give him a final good-bye. I don't remember if I just went and pet him/scratched him or if I took him out and hugged him. When I got back to the car and we were pulling out of the garage, my dad asked what I had forgotten, since I came back to the car with nothing. I told him that I had said good-bye to Junior since I had the distinct impression that he wasn't going to be there when I next came home to visit. I'm not saying I'm psychic or some sort of guinea pig whisperer. Maybe I was just pessimistic since I knew that he was getting old. Regardless, I am glad that I went back to see him again quickly before I left. I was hoping to see him again in a few months when I go back to Georgia to visit, but now I can't. I have been looking at apartments the past few weeks, hoping to move at the end of the summer. The top priority after convenience to either work or school was whether a pet was allowed. I have decided that I would like to have a guinea pig in my new apartment. I like the company of a pet, and a dog or a cat would be too difficult to take care of since I would be gone most of the day. But a guinea pig is relatively content to sit around on its own and does not require a large amount of attention. That isn't to say that they don't need attention, but I would not have to take time in the middle of the day to go home and feed/walk/play with the piggie like I would a dog or cat. I would, naturally, spend most of my evening hours at home so that I could chat with him and probably let him eat pieces of paper that I'm writing on. Anyway, I don't know how this went from mourning dear Junior to a future plan for my living situation. Oh well. Guinea pigs are adorable, and I hope I can find one that is just as sweet and cuddly as both Tuffy and Junior were. Rest in peace, little poots.

Hey, I still have a blog?

So, I was reminded by my awesome friends and their cool blogs that I still have one. The last time I wrote was back in October, which is pretty sad. The thing is, I never have much to say about things in general. Oh well. So, I decided that I would take a minute and vent about one thing that drives me crazy (amongst the hundreds on the list). Today's rant has to do with people who use self check-out at CVS. Now I know that not everyone in the world is technology savvy, but that's not the point. The machine TELLS YOU WHAT TO DO!!! The nice lady-voice says "Please scan your item" or "Place the item in the bagging area" or "JUST #%&# SWIPE YOUR CARD, DUMB-ASS". OK, so that last one is just what goes through my head, but that doesn't mean these machines cannot be reprogrammed to include that in later upgrades. So anyway, I am constantly amazed by the people who use these machines and still manage to take twice as long as everyone else to check out of the store. You're buying a box of Kleenex and a Butterfinger, not trying to build a time machine. The machines are there to make things go more quickly. If you are unable to figure out the machines, then go see the cashier with a pulse! The rest of us want to get out of the store! It's even more unfortunate because the line for the self check-out machines is always AS LONG AS the line for the cashier, even though there are THREE machines and usually only one cashier (sometimes two if they happen to actually notice there's a line). So clearly someone is having a special moment and cannot properly help him/herself get a move on. Perhaps it's just my inherent nature to be ill-tempered in public, but it really isn't that hard. And again, if you don't understand the system prompts, then get out of the line and go talk to the human guy/gal behind the counter. So yeah, that's what I have been thinking about today. I was also thinking about how awesome Bela Bartok is. I bought a recording of his opera "Bluebeard's Castle" and it was amazing. That has absolutely nothing to do with my rant, but I thought I'd end on a positive note (F# to be more specific). Anyway, maybe I should start writing here again. It just depends on how often I feel like saying anything. I prefer to read other peoples' blogs; they're far more interesting and entertaining. That said, please go to thesloshedpoet.blogspot.com and have a great time.