Just a typical Monday night in 202C...

"I didn't make you come here."
-Icka

"No, but I have."
-Timothy

Samantha, 1992-2007

My love of animals started at a very young age. When I was in kindergarten, I got my cat Samantha. My mom's friend's neighbor always had a lot of cats because she loved them, and took in every one that she found. Because she did this, she always had more cats than she could handle and was always looking for good homes for them. I still remember the day that we went to her house to get Samantha, and her brother Leo. I was so excited when we brought them home. We kept them inside for the first week while they got used to us so that they wouldn't run away when they were free. Soon after we let them out, Leo disappeared and we never saw him again, but Samantha stuck around. Pretty soon after, she had her first kittens. All four of them were beautiful, and I wanted to keep them all. When they were about eight weeks old, they all disappeared one day. I believe someone took them, because that's not uncommon in my community. Samantha had kittens 3 more times, and she had 4 each time, making a total of 16 kittens throughout her life. We kept several of them, but all of them ran away over time. Samantha was the only one that stayed. Last weekend when I went home, my mother told me that Samantha was missing. Because of her advanced age, I immediately assumed the worst, but since we couldn't find her body, my mother held on to hope that she'd come back. This afternoon, my mom called me and told me that my brothers had found Samantha in the pasture, and that she had passed away. My family buried her in the pet cemetary in our back yard. I'm handling this much better than I expected, but I still miss her.

My personality

Attentive Curator

This is a happy blog entry. Why? Because I said so. Happy happy happy.

*sigh*

This has been one of the most stressful weeks of my life. I stayed at school last weekend to study for an Organic Chemistry test that was this past Monday. I studied, but I still failed my test. I have never really been excellent at chemistry, but I have never failed a chemistry test. I was so upset over my grade, and I calculated it out to see what grades I would have to get to bring it up. According to my calculuations, I would have to make a 100 on everything from now until the end of the semester, and even then, I would only be able to pull off a B-. I was scared to take a chance with my GPA and my vet school application, so I talked to my parents, who agreed that I should drop the class now and take it next semester so that I can plan to take less hours. I was taking 17 this semester, and up until now, the most I've taken at one was 15, and even then, I had way too much work. I dropped it, and I feel so relieved. I finally feel like what I have is manageable whereas before I dropped CH 223 I was so overwhelmed. Last night was the first night this entire semester that I was able to finish everything that I needed to. Basically I'm just relieved.

Ew.

I was eating some circus peanuts that my mom brought to me yesterday when she came to visit me. I ate one, and noticed that it taste a little funny, but thought that maybe it was just because they're a cheap non name brand. I bit into the second one, and noticed a strange smell. I picked up the bag, and sniffed. Smoke. My mom said yesterday that my dad's been smoking more than usual, and apparently she wasn't exaggerating. I know he's got a lot of stress right now, but he's killing himself, and honestly, I'll consider myself very lucky if he's still around in ten years.