The little voice in my head is going, "Can you say disaster?" "DISASTER!" So I knew it was yet again time to perform a lobotomy on myself and forcibly remove all the crap in my head... And pour it out here. This week I had a recess week, meaning I didn't have any lessons, but here's the catch: Three thousand words. About some demarcation of some proprietary I-forget-what. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but the word 'recess' tends to suggest a period of rest? That was certainly not the case this week as I had insane polymer clay art deadlines, a three thousand-word essay to research and write, as well as a few personal goals which I am proud to report I did achieve, including half a season of Boston Legal. I am a very busy person.
So just when I thought things were easing up with my systematic demolition of deadlines, I decided to hang out with a friend last night for a full FIFTEEN MINUTES, WHEN SUDDENLY. I tripped and fell. It should be noted that I probably deserve it anyway, probably have a heap-to-be of accumulated bad karma due to the fact that I will be lawyering in the future. It was dark that night, I didn't have my glasses on, my eyes didn't adjust to the darkness quickly enough. I saw this patch of plain untextured black, and my head was all, "OOH! NO GRASS! Let's step on it!" because I hate walking on grass in flip flops. And the patch of no-grass turned out to be a drain. Ta-da! Sprained ankle and shredded knee. Note to self: Do not step on plain untextured black.
This is the first time since I was nine that I've sprained my ankle so badly that I can't place any weight on it. I remember very distinctly the feeling of having to crawl into the bathroom on all three good limbs back then. It was humiliating. Now I hop on one foot. Much less humiliating, and much better exercise. However, I can no longer get myself cold drinks or make myself a cup of soupy noodles. Because when you hop with liquids in your hand, they tend to hop too.
On the bright side, my mom is doing most of the Great Hammie Poop Clean-up, also known as Operation Toilet Training Again Because The First Attempt Failed. Oh it was a disastrous failure. I found both Maki and Mochi sleeping in the toilet. Apparently they really like the smell wafting soothingly into their dreams. How do you toilet train hamsters that like the smell of their own poop?
Please do not read this entry if you have recently eaten, are eating, or are about to eat. Unless you find poop tasty.
Last week, I mentioned in an entry that I was going to find out what hamster treats taste like. More specifically: The packet of dried grape treats that both my hamsters refuse to eat. That Monday I brought it to school, and, STRANGELY, on Tuesday night I had a terrible bout of constipation, followed swiftly by diarrhea. The next day I left the classroom just as my teacher asked me to answer a question (which no doubt has caused him to hate me) and upon reaching the toilet, threw up. BWTMIF, who bravely joined in the feast, is now passing away from illness. Therefore. Just so you know, if something seems suspicious? DON'T EAT IT.
Speaking of poop and eating, yesterday evening I watched in horror while Maki lay on her back and passed out a tiny pellet of poop. She then quickly grabbed it with her hands and ate it while it was fresh and no doubt warmed to her body temperature. I knew that hamsters and rabbits ate their own poop because of the way their digestive systems work, but this still came as a rude shock to me. Usually all I see is one of them rubbing their cheeks and spitting out hard pellets of poop which I then ignore and delude myself into believing is in fact some cousin of hamster food. But then again, I can sort of understand my hammies' behavior... After all, my country recycles and sells pee for consumption. And we're supposed to be a more evolved species.
Monday evening I showed Maki and Mochi off to Dudette and BWTMIF, though it wasn't as much showing off as me carrying the poor hammie in my palm and shoving it in Dudette's and BWTMIF's faces and telling them to take a big whiff because my hammies smell so good.
Both of them have come to the conclusions that (i) I am not fit to handle hamsters mainly because I do awful things like put them at the edge of the table to see if they'd jump (FYI, they don't; Mochi is scared of heights and Maki won't even jump off my palm unless she sees something else nearby that she can climb onto without foreseeably falling or slipping); and (ii) my hammies are weird, like me. I have weird hamsters. According to them, hamsters run out of their cages. Mine were let out that day to roam a huge table and they RAN BACK IN. I like having weird hamsters.
This is Maki plotting how to have her poop and eat it too.
Right out of the sand bath!
Sometimes Maki gets herself wet by drinking too enthusiastically from her water bottle, and what results is yet another episode of The Amazing Frantic Cleaning Ritual (awaiting patent) by the one and only Maki:
This is Maki begging not to be bullied, but because I am an awful hammie owner, I love holding the bottle while they drink from the dispenser. And then I try and get them into all sorts of ridiculous positions:
Maki begging me to stop making fun of her:
In the past week, I have also been trying to toilet train them. Unfortunately, I seem to have failed, as evidenced by Maki sleeping in the poop box:
Just this morning, I spotted her lying on her back nibbling something, so I RAN and grabbed my camera:
Eating poop again, no doubt:
And then she turns around to look at me and is all, "You saw nothing, okay."
A few shots of Mochi, who's more difficult to photograph because she usually runs and hides when people are around:
Mochi loves chilling out on the wheel:
Mochi was kicking her darling feet in the air once in a while, fast asleep, and hopefully having cute happy dreams...
I have a nagging feeling that Very First Girl Crush, hereafter VFGC, has chanced upon my blog, read about how I stalked her on Facebook, and is going to send a restraining order my way. Oh, woe is me. I know this for a fact because she suddenly sent me one of those nifty Facebook application thingys today, though we haven't spoken in like 6 years. For some reason, I feel vulnerable and deeply embarrassed.
Do you think it is a strange coincidence that my very first two girl crushes turned out to be totally straight, totally smart, totally popular and totally in the same institution studying medicine!? In retrospect, I'm thankful that back then I had no understanding of the concept of sexual orientation, else I'd just be so tormented that I keep falling for the straight doctor type. The first one I wanted to marry (and for some STRANGE reason I didn't think anything was off about that), and the second one I wanted to kiss (on the cheek) as part of a 13th birthday surprise and nope, no red flags there either. I chickened out though, and thank goodness, because otherwise she would probably have gotten a restraining order against me.
So anyways I was stalking them on Facebook, the ultimate tool for online stalkers, and trying to figure out if they're happy with their lives right now. I just really wish I would be able to approach them (even online) but I'm just... incapable of doing that. This leads me to many stories about my dark past and how I used to mess up close relationships with friends and girl crushes, and these two, being my very first two attempts at functional relationships with human beings, naturally bore the brunt of all my crap.
Speaking of 'functional relationships'. What's the term supposed to mean anyway? The more I observe people, the more I'm convinced that every one of us is handicapped or dysfunctional in some way.
Like, I totally have this friend whom I LOVE and therefore hate to embarrass but this is TOO FUNNY so I have to announce this to the Internets: Her jaw drops when she sees white chicks. The other day we saw this blonde guy in the elevator and she just froze up outside and had a BLANK look on her face. No expression at all, no sign of any thinking happening up there. I had to nudge her into the lift, like, hello. There are people in the elevator waiting for us to decide if we wanna join them. And that friend of mine? She isn't even that into guys.
***
Apparently I am too good at hiding things. Two weeks ago, the night before Neptune flew off to the U.S., I demanded a piece of clothing that she'd been wearing because her smell comforts me when I'm feeling lonely and depressed in Singapore. Yes, I think there is actually some scientific basis for that and this is not just another way in which I am dysfunctional :) So the moment I reached home that night, I hid it away in my room, safe from discovery by my parents, which led to the biggest problem of all: I hid it so well that I couldn't find it.
Last night, I couldn't sleep because I had too much on my mind. It was 5AM, and I decided to ransack my room to find her clothing. I practiced entering my room and asked myself, "Where would Angelique have thought to hide it?" But you see, when the hiding place is so unthinkable, how do you deduce it? So I went through all my drawers, removed the drawers to check if I'd hidden it behind the drawers, rummaged through the piles of clothes in my closet and finally... did not find it.
So I gave up and was about to start sobbing in despair. How could I have lost something belonging to Neptune!? After a few minutes, I decided to get a grip. And because I had a feeling the monthly female curse was about to pay me another visit soon, I wanted to get a panty liner (Guys, this thing is like a sanitary pad, just very VERY thin so it simply lines the panty) from my Sanitary Pad Drawer.
But then I remembered seeing a panty liner bag in my Stationery Drawer, and I wondered what it was doing there. So I decided to place it back in the Sanitary Pad Drawer where it belonged and I opened the panty liner bag to find... Neptune's clothing.
I had no idea that it'd been a week since my last entry. So here's a update that I will try to make as concise as I can because I'd age too much if I tried to fit in all the details.
Probably Lesbian is more likely Probably Bisexual! Rumor has it that she is dating this certain guy whom I remember only because I've never seen him actually comprehend what's going on in class, because apparently he thinks he's too cool for school. Which I totally identify with sometimes. This BGR rumor has been confirmed by various anonymous sources during our various anonymous bitchfests, during which we diss PL's hair and make-up and demeanor. But you see: All that pales in importance when compared to Her Creepiness. It's her dark eyes and black hair and make-up and clothes, everything rolled into one and combined with Her Creepy Stare to become the Ultimate Creepy Thing.
She is still staring at me.
A theory has been advanced -- by a friend who presumably loves me -- that she only stares at me because she hates me. I would love to think that she's right, but it's not that sort of hate stare. I'm good at hate stares so I can tell if I get one my way. It's a creepy stare that really gets under my skin. It doesn't help that she keeps popping up at all the places I go. I know that law school is a small place, but do you not think that being in the same toilet at the same time three times in the same week is kind of pushing it? And mind you, our campus is pretty well-equipped with toilets. Nevertheless I'm still thankful that I've never found her in the same cubicle with me. One must always give thanks for small blessings.
Maki and Mochi are still alive, surprisingly. I've never had a real pet before so I didn't exactly expect anything to live past a week in my care, but OMG they are still eating and sleeping and doing all the sorts of things hamsters are supposed to do, like stuff their own poop in their cheek pouches. And it makes me so happy.
They are still fussy eaters and refuse to eat the packet of grapes preserved and packed specially for hamsters, so I'm going to bring it to school on Monday and share the hamster treat with my law school friends, right out of the hamster treat bag. Of course they will have to sign a form affirming that (i) they are eating hamster treats out of their own conscious, independent volition and (ii) they will not sue me if/when they get food poisoning. I can't wait to find out what the grapes taste like.
Facebook has entered my life OMG! I'd actually made a page for Where's Mama?, which you can become a fan of on Facebook if you wish (I will likely offer discounts for FB fans in the future), but something happened on FB and apparently I had to get a personal FB account for myself? Anyway I set it up and someone Superpoke'd me and I Superpoke'd back and she Superpoke'd me again and... well it just went downhill from there.
My first girl crush, which I never realized was a girl crush because I was stupid, is no longer the girl I fell in love with! I mean, DUH. That was like, ten years ago. But it still saddened me to finally find her again on FB, only to see photographs of her wearing a dress or something?! MY EYES, THEY BURN. Right after that, I told Neptune that if she ever started wearing dresses regularly and kept her hair really long I would leave her forever. Because we value honesty in our relationship.
Yet again, I have managed to embarrass myself in ways I could never have imagined. Visualize this: Me standing near a main road waiting for my dad to fetch me home. I wasn't with anyone, I wasn't moving, I wasn't talking. I wasn't doing ANYTHING. What could possibly go wrong?! Apparently, a lot. You see, I'm bad at noticing people when I don't have my glasses on. I just don't see them. They are like colors in the distance merging and separating. So when this guy came up to me and said hi I was all !?!?!?! and he went, "Um. Are you from law school?" Yes. You can imagine how embarrassing it was when I realized that he'd been walking towards me since like half a mile away, DIRECTLY towards me, LOOKING AT ME waiting for me to say hi. (If that guy happens to be reading this: I'm sorry!!!) So I have this piece of advice for people who want me to notice them: Please don't.
One day I shall find enough courage within me to stick some foreign eyesight-correcting thing in my eye, but that day yet remains in the extremely distant future.
Natural blondes are the people who catch my attention most of the time, because I am shallow that way. So when I noticed one in the lecture theatre, a blonde chick on exchange from NYU, I RAN and sat right behind her. Notably because my gaydar was BLEEEEPING like crazy. And then I sent a text message to BWTMIF telling her that I'd saved a seat for her, RIGHT BEHIND THE BLONDE. She messaged back: OKAY I AM CUMMING I MEAN COMING.
So the lecture starts and we're seated behind the blonde, and finally during the break I nudge BWTMIF until she has the courage to tap the blonde on the shoulder and talk to her. We make small talk and she asks if we'd be in the lecture the next day. I nodded. The next day we totally gay it up for the blonde chick, BWTMIF wearing her collection of female bits earrings that I've bought/made for her, because I am her awesome lesbian friend. I'm wearing this pair of HUGE rainbow-colored star earrings and had pulled my hair back to show them off.
She didn't attend lecture that day. And good for her, because the lecture was awfully boring. So there you have it, our first ever attempt to befriend a hot gay chick and it totally failed. :(
CRAAAAAAAAZY relationship drama is going to be the title of any book I write about Neptune. In short: I get insecure; I run away; Neptune chases me; I run more quickly; Neptune withdraws and runs away; I run after her; We finally both tire of running; We make up. Throw in a copious amount of crying after every semi-colon and you have a pretty good picture of what my weekend so far has been like.
I think this time was so bad because we'd been taking shortcuts in the three or four months we'd had together before she flew off again: It's too easy to literally kiss and make up, but when you don't have the advantage of physical intimacy in a long-distance relationship, trust me, ALL SORTS OF SHIT can and will hit the fan. But the fan has since been cleaned and we are once again okay, thank goodness.
Yesterday I found some yellow fur near your butts, both of you, and I freaked out and Googled for all sorts of possible explanations such as bacterial infection, diarrhea, diabetes, IMPENDING DEATH... and so on. Turns out it's probably just pee absorbed into your fur, because both of you had just gone for a two-minute roll in a hamster ball, while I was cleaning the cage. The other day my father fed you both a morsel of fresh fruit and I had a panic attack because I thought you were going to die from diabetes. I'm an official hamster hypochondriac.
I think hamsters are really bad pets for me because, let's face it, we have around two years together, and I have been dealing with an intense fear of abandonment since I was ten. What am I going to do with my life when the both of you are gone!!??!?! Neptune and I bought the you on a whim on a Thursday two weeks ago. Ever since then I have been incredibly afraid that you would die on me way before your time. It doesn't help that CERTAIN PEOPLE have been telling me that animals don't have souls, that they don't go to heaven. But in my mind, babies as precious as the both of you are going to sunflower seed heaven.
The first time I carried you in my palm, Maki, you ran all over my arm and pooped without even stopping. Neptune liked you immediately. And both of you have never bitten me before, only nibbled my fingers because you smelt food on it. Even when I accidentally scare you or intentionally wake you up to spoil you with a bit of apple, you never ever bite. Mochi, you did however squeak in protest and as expected, I freaked out and Googled for all the reasons that you might have squeaked. It turns out that you are simply a very vocal hamster, not afraid of showing excitement, annoyance or fear. And I love you so much for that.
At times I hear squeaking, and I know it's probably because Maki was trying to scale the cage bars again and accidentally stepped on a sleeping Mochi in the process.
We have a tiny wooden swing in your cage that both of you love to hide under. And sometimes just because I feel like it, I lift the swing just as you dig your way through the bedding to get under it. And then both of you would look up in confusion, wondering where the swing went.
Maki: Most of the pictures I have are of you, because Mochi is camera shy. You, on the other hand, are curious, active and rough, even. Sometimes I get confused because I can't tell the difference between the two of you, probably because the ear that I use to identify both of you is hidden.
But the moment I offer you a piece of food and you snatch it eagerly away from my hands, I know it's you. Mochi is much more gentle, and lets me hold the food while she nibbles it. You love hoarding. Imagine my surprise when I offered you your favorite sunflower seed and you shoved it right into your cheek pouch immediately. It seemed to disappear right before my very eyes, and then you jumped off my palm, ran into your favorite corner, massaged your cheek, took the seed out of your mouth and then started to savor it.
You also have an inability to sit still, and most of the pictures I have of you are framed awkwardly because you move so quickly all the time. If there were advertisements for hamster caffeine, you would be their poster child. To get a decent picture, I usually have to hold you in place while enticing you with some food, while holding the camera in the other hand, then quickly lifting the food hand and snapping. With Mochi all it takes is a tiny treat to get her attention, but for you it doesn't work because your hamster mind is obsessed with running to your favorite corner where you will dig the yummy treat out of your cheek pouch to eat.
You also probably have some form of Hamster Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and because I am also obsessive-compulsive, Neptune always makes fun of the both of us. She thinks it's funny that an obsessive-compulsive mama should have an obsessive-compulsive hammie. But it makes me so happy whenever I see you groom Mochi incessantly until Mochi squeaks because she wants to go back to sleep, or how you bathe yourself in sand in your own particular method, the same particular way, every single time.
You are always the first to react to new situations. Mochi is usually too lazy to run around and find a solution, and instead goes to sleep or hides somewhere. You on the other hand, you become hyperactive, poking your nose around all corners of the cage when you smell a new scent or check out a new addition to the cage.
You look like a tiny bunny in this photo, but you are actually a hippo in disguise. You love stretching, and most of the time a stretch is followed by a HUGE yawn which uncannily resembles mine. Neptune always shouts, "HIPPOOOOOO!" whenever I yawn, something like when you chop a tree and yell TIMBERRRR! You are such a cute little hippo. :)
***
Mochi:
This picture is a perfect depiction of how you are 70% of the time: Sleepy. You love sleeping, and never hesitate to squeak very loudly when Maki tramples you in her enthusiastic quest for adventure. You were the first hamster I picked out at the store, and the moment the sales guy flipped you over to check your sex, you were SO offended that you let out a high-pitch squeak, and I thought: This is the perfect hamster for me.
I also love the photo above because it captures your laziness, the way you try to open only one eye at a time to figure out what's going on around you. Sometimes I accidentally wake you up while changing your food or water, and you open just one eye to look at me, then quickly go back to sleep. And I can't help but add more of your favorite sunflower seeds to the dish.
This was taken when you were so hungry that you started to munch the bedding. I pulled the bedding away from you and examined the dish to realise that the sunflower seeds were all empty husks, and the pellets were left uneaten because you and Maki are picky eaters.
This is you trying to hide from my camera.
I took this picture just as you were about to crawl into the sand bath. You and Maki have very distinctive bathing styles, most notably because Maki's consists of (i) digging, (ii) rubbing her back in the sand, (iii) turning around to repeat; and yours consists of, well... pretty much just shaking your hamster ass a little and then quickly getting out of there. I've tried both unscented and apple-scented sand, but you still don't bathe much. But I guess Maki's grooming of you makes up for your lack of it.
I still cannot distinguish you two by your markings, but I can tell from the way the two of you lie around, that the one on the left is Maki (stretched all the way out) and the other is Mochi (already closing one eye).
And this is Maki's signature hippo yawn. The lower jaw in that picture is less than 50% of the whole way it extends during the actual yawn -- which I was too slow to catch:
Maki, I love your OCD, your curiosity and your energy, the way you scale vertical bars and run all over my hands.
Mochi, this is the clearest picture I have of both your ears. I'm guessing you got into a fight with a more aggressive hamster back at the store. This probably accounts for why you were so afraid of sitting on my palm when Maki quickly accepted it as a way of life. And people might suggest that I have been shortchanged because I picked out a hamster that had torn ears, a hamster so painfully shy and timid that you'd squeak when I cupped you in my hands for more than two seconds. But each day you are learning to trust me more, you are learning that I am not a huge monster planning to have you for dinner. And despite your imperfections, I am so proud to be your mama.
It just occurred to me that I want a baby just so I can make it wear a tee that says MADE IN AMERICA and also put red, white and blue ribbons on its hair, nevermind its gender. You can't tell when it's a baby anyway. I'm looking for tops, skirts, hoodies, purses and bags with that color combination, preferably with the stars and stripes. Any recommendations?
So Neptune and I are at a bookstore, and she picks up a grade one assessment book because secretly, both of us are envious of kids today. Their assessment books are actually considerate enough to try to be fun, incorporating coloring and drawing. I grew up doing assessment books which delved into substantially weighty real life situations such as how many apples you're left with if you have two times the number that someone else has and three-quarters the number another person has. Very important when it comes to grown-up process of comparing salary.
We stare at the row of grade one assessment books longingly, or at least I do because I WANT to do them, I yearn a feeling which is now but a distant memory in law school: Actually aceing something. I don't actually remember the last time law school made me feel good about myself. I would rather work full-time on Where's Mama? than go anywhere near CERTAIN TOPICS we're covering this semester.
Anyway. Neptune stops stalking the grade one books and says, "Let's find something more challenging!" She picks up a book. "Grade Three English!" We flip to a page where you have to join two sentences, ridding them of repeated words. Neptune read the question: "'Everyone was happy. Everyone was very excited.' This is so easy!" And then she continued, "Everyone was happy and were very excited."
She closed the book, satisfied with herself. I was confused. "Wait... Did you say 'were'?"
"'Were very excited'?"
"...It's 'was'. Everyone 'WAS'."
"OH MY GOD I MADE A GRADE THREE MISTAKE."
So then we laugh it off and move on to a different section of the bookstore, and I ask her, "What was that sentence again? Everyone was happy and... what was it?"
"'Excited', I think."
"Oh yeah, 'very excited'."
We were quiet for a moment, then Neptune grumbled, "You're going to blog about this, aren't you."
Right after this picture was taken, Mochi turned her back on me and fell asleep in the pink dino, so the rest of the photographs are of Maki. I tell people that Maki can scale the cage, that IT CAN CLIMB VERTICAL BARS, and they look at me like, this woman is raving mad. And now I have HARD PROOF, people. Blurry, but HARD PROOF.
I know that looks like a bottle of professionally concocted bubbly pee, but no I am not trying to kill my hammies. It's vitamin-enriched water, and the bubbles are there because the vitamin bottle said to shake before use and I shook very... energetically.
And this is their home:
In apple-scented sand:
I squeal at the Cute and pass away from happiness.
Classiccr..., you are now on my List of Favorite People.
I googled 'hamster poop' to see if my hammies were healthy, because I was worried by how much they pooped. And let me tell you that the amount they poop? Is like the eighth wonder of the world, I have no idea how so much crap comes out of something so tiny. I read somewhere that they can be toilet trained if you take all their poopings and collect it in a dish or something, so I've done exactly that, taken all stained bedding and poopery and tucked it all into a corner. And then Mochi scrambles into that corner and falls asleep, while Maki runs over, grabs a poopity, stuffs it into her cheek pouch, and then spits it out.
My mother does not understand the concept of having pets. She had a duck when she was a kid, but then her family ate it. My brother once brought home five fishes from a carnival and she went stark mad, but after a while we decided to take care of them and they died within a month, before my mother had the opportunity to execute her plan to flush them down the toilet bowl. I cried a lot.
I also had a pet tortoise for awhile; we spotted it at a public pond inching towards us, and my dad put it in a plastic bag and drove us all home. We fed it raw meat and vegetables for a month or so and let it crawl round the toilet, but then my mother got tired of caring for it, and we returned it to the public pond (I cried too). We could still tell which tortoise was ours because it had a whitish shell, while the other tortoises in the pond had green, mossy shells. My mom does a great job with a toothbrush, I tell you.
My mom doesn't understand why anyone would want the responsibility and costs associated with keeping pets.
So Thursday Neptune and I saw the hammies and were all, OMG LET'S GET THEM!. The rebellious side of me won, so we bought them and kept them at Neptune's place for the night. I spent Friday, Saturday and 23 hours of Sunday with the hammies at her place, and finally mustered the courage to tell my mom about the hammies about two hours back. As you may have foreseen, she was totally trippin' and went C-RAY-ZEH talking about how smelly and unhygienic hamsters are. And I totally agree with her, that God did not make hamsters to live in a three-room apartment ten minutes away from town. But I am a lonely person, hell it's 2008, everyone is lonely. Everyone is looking for more ways to make an emotional connection, to make/find meaning. Everyone who can afford to anyway.
I eventually cried my way through the scolding and nagging and questioning, and I get to keep the hammies FOR NOW. When my mom changes her mind I will cry again. I just hope she doesn't try to flush them down the toilet bowl.
The drive home from Neptune's was a nightmare. My father doesn't understand the concept of SHOCK. I was panicking throughout the ride home, lifting the box so that whenever the car went over a bump (i.e. almost all the time), the hammies wouldn't feel the full altitude of the rise and fall. That's a whole cardiac workout RIGHT THERE. For the majority of you who have the privilege of never knowing how scarily my father drives, let's just say that his driving once caused a grown man to throw up from motion sickness. A grown man who loves roller coasters.
For creatures as tiny as my hammies, that must have been a very intense half hour, and I'm surprised that they're not chewing on the bars of the cage, which they did right after I offered them food from my hand. Rejection much!? Neptune says I'm supposed to leave them alone for two to three days until they get used to their environment before approaching them, but I've started to play with them just a little and my argument is: They live in a pink suite with a personal playground swing and a dino-shaped house, which I wash and clean every two to three hours because I cannot stand the sight of poop (Say it with me: O! C! D!). They get grape and apple and dandelion treats. They drink vitamin-enriched water. They bathe in APPLE-SCENTED SAND. There is NO reason why they should be stressed out by me offering them yummy food.
***
I spent the last three days at Neptune's house, sleeping over for two nights. Two very long and lonesome nights, during which we couldn't hug or sleep too close lest Mrs. In-Law enter the room to wake us up in the morning and discover our divergence from heterosexuality. So we held hands instead. To sleep. Yes, it is possible. Altogether now, cue the NEEDY! CLINGY! CO-DEPENDENT! Actually. It gives me a very warm and fuzzy feeling inside and I would want nothing more than to be able to do that with her every night.
Neptune is flying off in less than five hours, for another three and a half months. I'm totally devastated, and for about an hour this morning I had no idea what to do with myself except stare at a distant object and cry. :(
***
Neptune and I have agreed that our hamsters resemble us. Neptune is like Mochi, who hardly ever bathes or grooms, eats a lot, exercises half-heartedly on the wheel, and sleeps all the time. I'm like Maki, who is fatter and has OCD: It bathes itself A LOT in the sand bath and even grooms Mochi, presumably because it thinks that Mochi is dirty.
Mochi squeaks a lot and sounds like a rubber ducky. It squeaked when I picked it out from a pile of hamsters at the store, and it squeaks whenever Maki steps all over it while trying to climb onto something else. Sometimes at night we hear the wheel rolling and we know it's Maki, or we hear a squeak and we know it's because Mochi because Maki is stepping on it or disturbing its sleep.
They're both females, around 7 weeks old. Neptune and I both hope that they try to mate some day. :)
It's raining noodles! Hallelujah! And the noodles shall inherit the earth!
If you know me, pretend you don't. If you don't know me, don't pretend you do.
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Angelique
November 20, 19xx
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