I buried my dwarf hamster, Verne, last night. It seems kind of silly that I'm sad about it...she was two and a half years old, which is ancient for a dwarf hamster. She was clearly not doing well, and I knew it. Part of me is glad that it's over, because she was probably in at least a bit of pain. But it's sad all the same. She was a sweet hamster—never bit anyone, not even once. Which, if you've ever had or dealt with a hamster, you'll know is kind of miraculous.
And I just went through two and a half years' of photos, because I swore I had some of her when she was a baby and I wanted to post it, and I can't find a single one. Not one damn picture of this pet I've had for nearly three years. All the photos from the year I got Verne are just of me getting drunk with a bunch of people who I mostly don't even like anymore. I guess that's what happens when you're twenty...your priorities are just different. And not in a good way. Still, I'm a bit disappointed in junior-year me. I couldn't take just one shot of that little furball? It's embarrassing.
Sorry to be a Debbie Downer today. I don't feel like posting anything falsely upbeat, and I figured I might as well be up front about why.
A mashup of style, food and anything else that interests me right now.
