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thehappinessofabookworm-blog · 7 years

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When I was little, I learned gymnastics at The Little Gym of Gurnee.

I remember more running around building forts than actual gymnastics, but that’s not the point.

The point is that from the time I was three until I was about ten, I went to the little gym, and I LOVED it.

I aged out after twelve, and the gym was the stuff of fond memories of the many summer camps I had used to go to. My mom wanted me to learn as much as possible, so I had a LOT of variety. Ask me about something and there’s a 90% chance that I know something about it.

When Ivye was two, my mom decided that she needed more social experience. (She is the most social of the three of us) So she decided to take her to the little gym. When Ivye was three, she started real classes and (occasionally) started listening to the teachers.

So, last spring break I went with mom and Ivye to Ivye’s class. To my surprise, my old teacher Mrs. Tracy (Pictured above next to me at my 6th birthday party at the gym) has NOT AGED. SHE IS SOME SORT OF TOLKIEN ELF. I COMPARED THE PIC TO HER NOW AND THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE. (Mr. Dave, her husband? He aged well, minus his hair) Anyways, I went with.

I was really surprised that Mrs. Tracy remembered me, much less recognized me. Now imagine my surprise when she asked if I was looking for a job! (I wasn’t exactly LOOKING for a job, but I was open to one) So I did the working interview by helping out with Ivye’s class, got the working permit filled out because I was still fifteen at the time.

I helped out with birthday parties for a month, then I took up helping with a Saturday morning class. Over the summer I balanced working the camp and sailing.

But when marching band kicked up, I couldn’t work Saturdays because of performance. I didn’t work for over four months. Then last sat I worked a birthday party covering my coworker’s shift. It was great! The birthday girl was SO CUTE. Only two other people showed up out of an expected 14, but she was two so she didn’t notice and had a blast.

One would think with a job description of “Gymnastics teacher” I would be better at gymnastics. I can barely do a cartwheel, and a “donkey kick” which is a progression to a handstand. I can do a forwards and backwards roll though. I teach little ones, like 3-4 year olds, which is good bc I cannot demonstrate anything harder than that age level. Then you have my coworker Drew. He’s Mrs. Tracy’s older son (he’s in his twenties, the younger is like.. ten) who one day before we opened said “watch this!” and proceeded to run into the gym and do an aerial, which is a cartwheel with no hands. He then has the audacity to say “Ooh that wasn’t very good, I haven’t done gymnastics in a couple months.” like what???? That is you out of practice??? And i can only???

Yeah, pretty sure my job description is “Birthday party assistant” because I’m mostly there to make sure that the kids don’t hurt themselves in a Very Well Childproofed gym. (Of course Mrs. Tracy’s younger kid managed to cut his foot open on the ONE thing that wasn’t covered in foam and duct tape)

I love little kids, don’t let me ever convince you otherwise. (though there is this one little shit) I love my job, I get to run around, blow bubbles, sing and dance, do arts and crafts, sometimes build legos, help kids face their fears, hold the shy kids hands (I’m good at getting them to participate bc I’m basically a child and I understand them, I blend in) and occasionally build giant rocket ship mat forts.

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thehappinessofabookworm-blog · 7 years

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I hate my natural smile.

I know I'm supposed to love myself and all that, but it's really hard.

It took me most of middle school to get over the fact that I have an overbite, and that my teeth will never be perfectly white.

I’ve had pimples since elementary school, and I’m coming to terms with my acne. It doesn’t help that it gets worse during the school year when my stress goes up and my self-esteem goes down.

I hate the way my eyes squint when I laugh. The way my nose crinkles. The laughter lines by the corners of my eyes. I look like a gremlin.

My smile has ruined many a decent picture. In middle school, my mom would tell me that I couldn’t be brushing my teeth enough, they were so yellow. She also gave me shit about my breath. I started using whitening strips and breath-mints. I’ve managed to get over most of my insecurities, but I still carry a fuckton of mints around for when I have coffee breath or sick person breath.

Over time, I stopped smiling with my teeth. I was so embarrassed about them. You know what? I still am. One of the only times I smile with my teeth is at colorguard, because that smile is 100% fake. I sometimes manage to let my guard down around people and truly smile and laugh, but I get so self conscious.

My body image has been wack for awhile. In middle school, I though I was chubby because I didn’t have a flat stomach. I finally figured out that I was not, but sometimes that voice in the back of my head tries to mouth off. For awhile, I though I was the shit. Size 0-2 clothing, fairly muscular, heck, I even discovered I had hips. Then I realized people looked at me. I started to hide my figure more, started finding ways to squat down to get things instead of bending over, started to wear sports bras, trying to minimize myself.

One of the worst things was looking in the mirror and seeing little red dots along my back. No one had told me I could even get pimples on my back. I freaked out. I started finding ways to cover my back and shoulders, even at sailing where I wore a swimsuit all the time.

As I’ve mentioned throughout here, I’m coming to terms with it. I can tolerate wearing a one-piece swimsuit showing my shoulders and a bit of my back. (also have you ever tried to actually swim in a bikini? It sucks. I have a couple stories about that. I’m a really strong swimmer.) I let myself smile with my teeth sometimes, and laugh naturally when it comes.

But every so often I see myself in the mirror and I hate my reflection and the way my clothes hand off my body. I take a selfie and delete it because I’m covered in pimples or my face is contorted by my smile.

One day I will love myself.

Hopefully.

One day.

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thehappinessofabookworm-blog · 7 years

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I need a cat.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Look at this pretty girl. She’s up for adoption. I WANT TO ADOPT HER MOM PLEASE!!!!

If I haven’t talked about cats enough.

My mom really likes tortoiseshells and calico cats. I myself am partial to black witch kitties. But I will take literally any cat!!! I need one!!!

It has been ten years. My mom is finally over the last three. This lovely girl loves attention and petting. Ivye loves petting cats. I love cuddling. Eve needs a home. It all fits!!!!!

I need a cat like a cat needs love. Seriously, I won’t be able to walk away from my homework if there’s a cat lying on me. Reasons I should have a cat:

The above mentioned homework thing

Raf is allergic to dogs

I’ve proven I’m responsible by cat-sitting for extended periods of time

even cats that don’t like people like me

emotional support

will drive me to take care of it, motivating me to be productive

Ivye needs a friend to play with

Mom is lonely

I need cuddles

Raf is lonely

Dad needs cuddles

Mom does not like other animals

ferrets are evil

rabbits chew things

fish are gross

turtles are boring (+traumatic childhood experience)

birds poop, and creep her out bc they’re trapped

Raf is allergic to dogs

Tarantulas scare me

feeding snakes is gross

hamsters are mice-does not like mice

doesn’t like lizards bc she doesn’t want to trap it

We have plenty of space for a cat/ multiple cats

cats need homes, and we have home, it all fits

I really need a cat, I need a floof to love me.

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thehappinessofabookworm-blog · 7 years

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Alrighty. So. This is a good and a bad.

I am THE Least Photogenic Person I Know™

Which is sad, because in this picture I LITERALLY MET MY FUCKING IDOL

I LOVE LINDSEY STIRLING WITH ALL MY HEART. ME, #1 LINDSEY STIRLING TRASH.

She is the one in the middle, the other one that is not me is her sister, Brook.

I took this pic when I met her at her book signing, which her sister helped write that’s why she (brook) is there, and IT WAS LITERALLY THE BEST. Well next to the two of her concerts I went to. During the second one I literally cried.

Honestly she is the most perfect person in the world. I resonate really strongly with her songs. She plays violin, DUBSTEP violin, and she dances when she plays!!!!!! The most perfect!!!!! I am dying just thinking about it.

JUST LOOK AT THAT BACK-BEND. WHILE PLAYING. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

I CAN’T EVEN WITH THE LEG THING. THE FLEXIBILITY. THE STRENGTH TO HOLD IT UP THERE. AND WHILE PLAYING. I’VE SEEN HER DO THESE THINGS LIVE WHILE PLAYING!!!!!!

I refuse to be embarrassed to admit that I own all three of her albums in the target deluxe editions, her first album on vinyl, the signed autobiography, a Shatter Me tee shirt, a Brave Enough tee shirt, the sheet music for Roundtable Rival and Song of the Caged Bird, and no less than two books of her covers. I also have a few of her covers of other songs that I bought and downloaded, but I question their legality, which I will probably talk about later.

Yeah. I’m a nerd. but she is worth it.

So she started out playing violin, won a few pageants with her moving while playing violin stuff. Then she got on America’s Got Talent. She made it to the quarter finals. She got cut. Piers Morgan told her on national television that she “a bunch of rats being strangled” and a few other things.

In my personal opinion, Piers Morgan can go eat a bag of dicks. “No market for a dancing violinist” my ASS. He can stick those words back up where they came from. He’s one to talk with his doughboy looking ass and no actual career. (He is just generally an unpleasant person.)

She came back from this though. The song Crystallize from her first album was a youtube hit, with the music video getting 42 Million views in that first year. Shatter Me, her second album (or maybe the title track) was #2 on the Billboard 200, and won her an award in 2014.

She did all this while struggling with anorexia. In her free time, she’s a motivational speaker. I am SO FUCKING MOTIVATED BY HER. aaaahhhhh. I can’t even explain how her songs and her words make me feel. But it’s good.

She dropped her third album this year, and it had a lot of collaborations, and her song with Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness (weirdly extra name), Something Wild, which was featured in that new Pete’s dragon movie, is getting a TON of airplay right now. Her album was one of the only good things about 2016 tbh.

Beyond her personality and dancing, which are amazing, is her music. OH MY GOD HER MUSIC IT IS SO GREAT. YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO THIS STUFF.

The orchestral version of Transcendence gives me life. Crystallize inspires me to love myself. Shatter Me, the song she wrote about breaking free from her eating disorder, it’s just SO GOOD. (Also the singer she collaborated with for that one is Lzzy Hale, the lead singer of Halestorm, which is an amazing heavy metal band, is an actual godess.) The Arena, from her new album is my newest inspiration. It’s based off of the Teddy Roosevelt quote, and it gives me the courage and strength to face everything from school to work. (It takes a LOT of courage to face those kids.) (Three year olds are evil, and four year olds want to kill me. With rubber balls.)

Honestly, if you asked me I could probably come up with an instance for every one of her songs where I was listening to it and I found a new inspiration inside me when I listened to it that one time. Except maybe Swag. No wait I found inspiration in that one too.

Now, when she started touring, she had two band members: Drew on drums and Gavi on keyboard. Gavi was her best friend, and in 2015 he died of cancer at age 35. Lindsey was understandably devastated. She has a song on Brave Enough called Gavi’s Song, that she started writing and had to finish without him, which I cannot listen to without crying.

I died a little inside when I was reading her autobiography, and she said something about how she didn’t know what she’d do without Gavi and I had so many feelings. So Many. the book was finished before he died but published after and there’s an in memory of at the end and its SO FRICKEN SAD WHYYYYYYYYYY SHE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS SHE TALKED ABOUT IT DURING HER CONCERT BC SHE WAS DOING HER INSPIRATIONAL SPEAKING THING AND I THINK I DIED THERE.

Shes so strong and I love her and her music makes me so freaking happy.

My mom is trying to get me to write her a letter to get her to come to the genesee but I’m afraid I’ll come off as creepy.

On the subject of violinists, while I love Lindsey, I was slightly less impressed with Lee England. He’s from Waukegan, Mrs. Dudley actually taught him, he’s a pretty cool dude.

So my beef with him. last year, the Dudleys say to me, hey do you want to play a quartet with us and Esteban? and I’m like, sure! so I go over to their house (bc they live close to me) for rehearsal. This dude is there, and I’m like: ????????? because I’ve never heard of him. So the event is this fundraiser gala he’s doing at the genesee for the charity thing he does called ’’love notes” which is a thing to help kids get music education in poor places. We play, and there’s some adults there too to play with us bc they don’t trust us. We play a couple pieces of his with him, under the impression that we’re going to preform them with him. He’s a RnB violinist, he does a lot of improv. So we get to the event, and I WAS SO EXCITED BC OMG WE GOT A GREENROOM SET UP FOR US, I got to play at the genesee, like not as an orchestra, even if we were hidden sorta up on a balcony.

Also did you know that there is a little terrace behind the genesee sign???? because I didn’t and I got to go out there, we took a pic it was so cool.

Anyways, so the time comes for him to play, and we’re up here like “is he gonna call us down?” Well, it ended up with us not preforming with him. Needless to say I was a bit disappointed. (You can tell by my face in the next pic. But that was partially bc he put his arm around my waist for the pic and I was very uncomfortable.)

I guess he liked me though because we took a pic, and he gave me a signed sample CD with a personalized message and while we were practicing he have me some advice.

I am NOT photogenic, but Rachel actually looks really nice in this picture. Maureen was falling asleep on Esteban as we were standing there, that was when she was recovering from mono.

Moral of the story, Lindsey Stirling is an amazing human bean, and has some of THE best music I’ve ever heard. Also I met a celebrity from Waukegan that one time. I also met the mayor there briefly.

Lindsey’s music flows through my veins, turning my blood to liquid gold and my emotions to light, freeing me from negativity.

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thehappinessofabookworm-blog · 7 years

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It’s that time of the year, garden porn season.

My mom and I are plant people. (And not in the asexual sense)

Considering the way my mom approaches gardening, am I at all surprised that I want to be a botanist? No.

January is very grey and cold here, (oddly enough I am being attacked by a mosquito as I write this??) and my mom and I both get mild seasonal depression (it was worse for her when she lived in Tacoma, Washington) so we find our ways of dealing.

January also seems to be the month for sending out the plan catalogs. My mom refers to these as “garden porn” because there are so many great plants but we’re too broke to buy them. She frequently says that if we were rich we’d have one of everything, but I say we would have multiple of some, because I want to have a rainbow of iris. Irises are my mom’s favorite flower, so I like them since they remind me of her.

I may have a slight obsession with plants... slight... as I look at the seven spider plants in my room alone. That’s not even all the spider plants in our house. My current favorite flower color is the deep purple “black” that sort of looks like a very yummy plum. I NEED SOME OF THE ‘Midnight Ruffles’ Hellebore IMMEDIATELY. IDGAF if it’s poisonous I want hellebore SO BAD.

I’ve said for years “One day, ‘Burgundy Iceberg’ roses, one day” and I mean it I need those roses in my life. PURPLE ROSES. DARK PURPLE ROSES. SO great. It’s so nice to see all the bright petals when everything is rather grey.

Like have you seen all the types of clematis? When I get bored, I like to look at different types and go “This one is like Rachel, this one is like Ivye” and stuff like that. Like plants, even ones in the same family, have such awesome variety.

Did you know that some varieties of hydrangea change color between pink and blue based on the ph of the soil they’re in? It’s wild. Which is funny because we have a pink hydrangea in the back that moved to a spot in the front and stayed pink, but we have some blue hydrangeas in a different area of the front.

My mom, she very much likes gardening. We sometimes call her Dig-Dug because of how often she’s out there with a shovel. We have a pretty big yard, and we’ve been living in this house for ooh, six years? We put in a lot of work but it still needs a lot. We also call my mom Mrs. T because of her tree-trimming habits. So the story goes that Mr. T was tired of his neighbors commenting on his lack of pruning on the trees on his property, so one day he just went out there and chopped them all down. Now my mom loves trees, except the Norway maples. They’re a highly invasive species, and they wait till like, freaking midwinter to drop their leaves (which makes our ice rink difficult, but that’s another story) and we have a bunch of them, so she’s a BIT pruner-happy with them. At least we have plenty of firewood.

My tree, a Catalpa tree that we planted on our property when we moved in (after we removed the scary oak, I’ll talk about that later) is my child. Catalpas are in the vanilla family, so it makes these cool bean-pods as it’s seeds. Also in the spring it makes these orchid-looking flowers that smell HEAVENLY. I love it.

So, scary oak. When we bought this house, there was this HUGE oak tree growing in the front. Now my mom though this was great, she loves oaks. So, we buy the house, and we go to take a look at the hole in the trunk of the tree. It’s BAD. The whole inside of this giant old tree is completely rotten. And to make matters worse, some idiot had decided to fill the hollow tree with cement and rebar to hold it up. Like, what kind of IDIOT does that???? Now this hole was BIG, so of course we had to show it off. Somehow the Crombies end up at our house, and Cameron goes and sticks his arm in the tree! At this point in time he had pretty long arms, and he couldn’t even touch the other side of the tree. It was THAT big and THAT rotten.

In the end, plants are happy things, and plant catalogs are awesome. Plants don’t judge me and all they want is some water and sunlight to be my friends.

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thehappinessofabookworm-blog · 7 years

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People are dicks.

More specifically ace-phobic people are dicks.

You know what? They don’t even deserve a common swear word. They are soggy biscuits. Easy bake ovens, wet socks, expired coupons, shaky tables, walnuts. And my personal favorite insult, croutons.

If I have to listen to one more person tell me that my sexuality is made up, someone is going to get punched.

Now, I don’t mind explaining it to people. I’m fine clarifying the difference between sexual and romantic attraction. I’m chill with telling people about how it’s a spectrum, and that demisexuals and other little known identities exist. As I am typing this, google tries to auto-correct demisexual to bisexual. Honestly, I didn’t know that asexual was an option until... jeez, two years after I knew I wasn’t straight. (I thought I was bi for a while) I’ve known I’m ace for three years now.

But, when someone takes it upon themselves to tell ME what I feel, MY feelings, that is just being flat out rude. They are no better than the people who tell bisexuals that they are confused, like “No Bitch, I think I know me better than you do, thanks for the opinion I didn’t ask for! Bye!” They make me want to scream in frustration.

“But you have a boyfriend!” “But you have crushes!!” “You’re not a real asexual, you like people!!1!!” do I have to explain this again???? Really. That is rude to demisexuals and gray-aces. like damn. Also, while I respect people’s opinions that there is only sexual love, respect mine that my romantic orientation is separate from my sexual. That person you sort of know who doesn’t like anyone, AT ALL, is probably aromantic-asexual. (note that it tries to change aromantic too)

Now not knowing about things is fine, it’s not offensive until you refuse to let someone clarify and explain the thing that you are wrong about. It’s offensive to tell me to my face that I am not real.

Then you have THOSE people. The “science” people who think they know better.

Those people who think they’re hilarious to tell you that. You tell them “Yes I know asexual reproduction is a thing that cells do. But this is not the same thing.” but do they listen? NO! They’re so caught up in their “hur dur, I’m so smart, these dumb people who are actually open minded and different from me. hahahaha” Honestly I feel like grabbing a middle school vocab book and slapping them in the face with it. The prefix a- means not. Then you add that to sexual or romantic. It’s not hard.

Those same people don’t say that bisexuals are plants?? Even though plants that contain both the “male” and “female” components are called bisexual. The same vocab thing. Bi- means two, then you add that to sexual/romantic. Just like homo- same, hetero- different, and pan- all. Fucking walnuts.

Honestly, when I tell people that I’m ace, once we get past the “you’re dating Oscar tho???” stage into the romantic orientation, they get all “omg do you look at my butt?!?!?” to which I have to say “Bitch did you miss the entire ‘ROMANTIC’ part of me liking all genders?” like how tf does that equate. to looking at ur butt. (and while sometimes I do look at peoples butts, as people tend to do *looking at every straight person on the guard*, it’s a butt. it’s there to help with balance for standing upright. I don’t get anything from it, other than who does squats)

It helps that a couple of my close friends are ace, and that the others I’m out to are pretty accepting, but I just get endlessly frustrated as people refuse to acknowledge me. The acronym is LGBT+ or LGBTQIA+ or even sometimes LGBTA+ the plus(+) meaning “and others not mentioned here because there are a lot as sexuality/attraction/gender are spectra” and don’t fucking try to tell me the “A” stands for “allies” because no. Just. fucking. NO.

So when people are rude about my sexuality, I show them my top priority on the Asexual Agenda:

Because I swear like the sailor I am when people are croutons.

And while most fiction chooses to ignore us, there are some great ideas. Like the sirens getting to sing about something other than love for a change, like garlic bread. Or dragons. Dragons are really popular with Aces for some reason. Then some people look at this situation and take a lighter approach.

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thehappinessofabookworm-blog · 7 years

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So, I mentioned the cats, right? This is Frodo and Sam. Frodo is the tuxedo and Sam is the orange one. More on these two later.

I don’t own cats. I haven’t had pets since our three cats all died within a couple years of each other when I was 5-7 . I do have a three (almost four) year old sister though, so same difference?

You are probably wondering at this point “So whose cats are these?” and if your brain works like mine “Did she break into a house to pet cats?” (Spoiler alert, I didn’t. Though I occasionally consider it) which no rational person would think, I’m just as strange as unicorn poop cookies sometimes. (They’re surprisingly good)

Okay, to the point. I cat-sit six awesome cats for an amazing family. Seriously they’re great. They’re really nerdy, but in the good Doctor Who/Star Wars-y sort of way. This shows in their names for their cats, as you might have guessed. I’m going to talk a lot about the cats and their backstories, sorry, I love them.

Cat number one: Tonks

Named for the Harry Potter character, she’s a tortoiseshell. (Fun fact: tortoiseshells are *almost* exclusively female, due to a change in one of their X chromosomes.) She loves Cathy (The lady I cat-sit for, the Mom) the most, and gets very upset when she’s away. Also the little shit who started eating her food, then puked it right back up, INTO THE BOWL SHE WAS EATING FROM. Wasting the WHOLE bowl. I was SO mad. I also suspect she was behind the rest of the random pukes I had to clean up. She’s the first to meet new people, and she loves to sit and watch birds out the window, because she used to be an outside cat. She also likes to sit IN their grand piano.

Cat two: Molly

Also named for Harry Potter, rather aptly named.A calico, she is the Biggest Floof. The absolute floofiest. On the day I took the top pic, she blessed me by letting me pet her belly, and it wasn’t even a trick to attack my hand (Sam. All the time. It’s a good thing I have good reflexes or I would have a few scars.) She is SO SOFT. She is the loudest when it’s wet food time. Much meow. She likes to hide out at the top of the cat tree. Also has come to snuggle me when I was chilling on their couch annotating.

Cats three/ four: Katniss and Miranda (probably Miranda. Starts with an M. I actually forgot it and am too embarrassed to ask.)

Katniss is named for the hunger games, and Miranda(?) for a thing I’m not involved in (hence me forgetting it)

So I group these two together because they are a mother/daughter duo. They are gorgeous silky black kitties. They look like witch kitties. Katniss is the daughter. They used to be *feral* (I use that term loosely as they were more like wild outside cats. they weren’t really feral) so they both have the notched ear that means they were tagged and released (Waukegan has a shitty system of dealing with feral cats, if I don’t make a post about it, ask me. I have a HUGE rant about that) I think they were spayed, but after Katniss was born. Anyways, Cathy has a thing for black cats, and had finally gotten over her last cat dying, (don’t hold me on this) so she went out to get cat food, and came home with two more cats. Honestly that will be me in 10-20 years when I’m financially stable. (That might have happened with Frodo and Sam, She told me this over the summer so it’s a bit fuzzy.) When they’re hungry they rub on my legs, and as I mentioned they are very silky. One likes to hide in their basement, the other likes to stare out the window. I honestly cannot tell them apart. The defining feature of Katniss is that she makes a question mark shape with her tail. They both do it though. Very frustrating. One cuddled with me when I was annotating, but next to my legs. One of them also tried to get behind the blinds to look outside, and fell off the windowsill. It was hilarious. I lifted the blinds a bit so she could sit.

Cat five: Sam

Named for the Lord of the Rings character. (I personally would have switched the names, based on the way they carry their weight) But I agree personality-wise and color-wise. Sam does not like people other than his family. Except for my mom (and me) for some reason. He comes up to rub against her, and lets both of us pet him. Follows me around the house when I’m cleaning litter boxes. We’re 90% sure he has ESP, he jumps over random spots on the floor, and stares at corners. My old cat Chloe used to do that too. We think it’s an orange cat thing. He fights with Tonks a bit, they vie for top cat, but really it’s Frodo. Overall a sweetie, he’s usually the first to come say hi when I enter.

And finally, cat six: Frodo

Also named for the LotR character, he is the social recluse. For the first week I was there, I didn’t see him once. At the start of the second week I searched for him to confirm he was there, and glimpsed him under the bed. We’ve come very far since then. He comes down to sit in the same room as me now, though he hisses if I get too close. It’s cool, I respect his boundaries. Out of all the cats, he is definitely a bode (search bode meme if you don’t get it) he has so much floof. He really likes my piano playing. I think it reminds him of his people. I have a LOT of pics of him because he is adorable.

So that got a bit longer than I meant, but the thing about cats is that they make me so unbelievably happy. Did you know that petting a cat not only lowers the human’s blood pressure, but it also lowers the cat’s blood pressure? That is some tight shit. I still have some very great memories of Sabina, my Maine Coon/ Norwegian Forest cat mix that I used to have. She was so warm and fluffy, and has watched over me from the day I was born. I never really spent much time with Mocha, he didn’t like how loud we were, even though I was a very quiet child. Usually. Chloe was the last one left, and she took over comforting me after Sabina left. One of my earliest drawings that we still have is of her.

My mom is finally over their deaths (ten years later) so hopefully I get a cat of my own soon. Cat-sitting is my way of showing my parents, and myself, that I am responsible, and that I can handle myself. (I do have a Real Job, teaching gymnastics, but apparently that’s not enough for my mom) Honestly, with how worked up I get, even seeing a picture of a cat helps me stop and calm down.

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thehappinessofabookworm-blog · 7 years

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So I think I mentioned that I like to compliment random people, yeah?

Well I thought that went pretty unnoticed by people, but I guess someone actually noticed?

So what happened. I had made a post (on my regular tumblr account, very much unconnected to this one) about the Pentatonix cover of “Hallelujah”

I think it was something along the lines of “The Pentatonix cover of Hallelujah is so heartbreakingly beautiful, and it’s been stuck in my head all day, which is not good because it makes me want to cry.” Something like that but with less grammar because I thought all of my followers would ignore it.

So Julianne screenshots it and sends it to the chat she’s in, she said something like “(x) this is you” and the person agreed and said “tell her to follow me on Instagram”

So I didn’t have an instagram at that point, so she told them that it was me and she didn’t think I had an instagram. So that was their response to that up there in the picture.

On one hand I was a bit ticked off that she told people that was my URL, because I generally try to keep that away from the people at school because it’s sort of personal. It’s where I talk about being asexual and stuff like that, and since I’m not really out to most people I like to keep the blog on the down low. Shes one of the only people I know in real life that knows it.

However on the other hand, they were just so nice. Up until then I thought that one of them actually didn’t like me, and I didn’t even know the other (meaning I probably met them and forgot) and I was so happy to know that someone thought I was nice.

My thing with Instagram was a bit weird, like, I wanted the app when I first got a smartphone, I thought that it was sooooo cool because I was a silly freshman. Then when I got my Iphone I actually forgot to get the app.

Then this happened, so I downloaded the app and set it up. I don’t really use it, but the first thing I did was follow those two (and Julianne). What happened from that is I then accepted their facebook friend requests. The next day, one of them hugged me at school.

What came out of this whole thing was I had two new people who are on good terms with me, and I am reassured that my efforts to make other people happy work. Also I got a new social media account. That makes me so happy to know that other people are happy.

I can say that since they are sophomores, there’s only a small age gap between us (I’m right at the end of the cutoff, technically i should be a sophomore) (Especially maturity wise) I feel like there was an experience gap there that we crossed. We’re pretty similar interest wise, even if we’re different ages. Friends are good.

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