Things Are Different This Time

Well I haven’t been around in awhile. I did not want to start 2016 completely neglecting this blog. It kind of just happened that way. I don’t have a working laptop at the moment and the new job does not leave me a lot of time to sit and write a post. (I did some of my best blogging at my old job.)

I’ve been missing blogging and reading posts from my favorite bloggers. But other than that, 2016 has been going really well for me. My job as a Young Adult librarian has been a lot of fun. I still haven’t fully won over the teens at my library but I will! I’m not above bribing them with chips and cookies. They will like me! I’ve also found a place to live. I will once again have my own place by February 15th. I’ll also be purchasing a new laptop to go with my move so blogging will go back to normal eventually. (You all can rejoice!)

Additionally, remember the nice boy who’s tall and makes me laugh I spoke about in my last post? Well he is still very much in the picture. Things are going really good. It’s no secret that I have a tendency to overthink things so I can honestly say that things are going scarily good. Boys normally fall into one of two categories for me. Either I really like them and am attracted to them but they’re assholes who don’t treat me so great or they are so nice to me and are so into me but I feel nothing towards them. But this guy. Man, it’s different. He’s so incredibly nice and he likes me. But I also really like him and think he is just the cutest boy ever! (I know, I know. I’m corny! I can’t help it.)

Anyone who has read even just a handful of my posts will know that I am not very good at the whole dating thing. Things never seem to work out. Things just feel different this time around. I’m not pulling many of my classic-Liz moves that I normally do when I like a boy.

  1. I don’t analyze every word of every text I send him. If there’s something I want to tell him or just want to say “hi,” I send him the text without even thinking about it. I don’t spend hours debating whether I should send him a “What’s going on?” or “What’s up?” text with my friends. (Something I have sadly done many times before.)
  2. I’m not afraid to let him know I like him and be affectionate towards him. This is going to be very shocking to hear, but I have a bit of a wall built up around me. I don’t normally like letting a guy know I’m into him for free of being hurt.
  3. If he doesn’t answer my text right away, I don’t stress. I know it’s cause he’s probably busy at work or just hasn’t had a chance to answer me back yet.
  4. I haven’t spent hours obsessing over all the things that are wrong with him. I like him and I haven’t tried convincing myself that there are so many reasons why I shouldn’t like him.
  5. I’m myself around him. This is a big one. Normally when I like a boy, it’s almost impossible for me to be myself. I don’t do it on purpose but I’m just thinking so much that it’s hard to act natural. When I’m with this boy, I’m incredibly goofy and the conversation just flows easily.
  6. I have no problems initiating plans with him. This coincides with point number 2. Normally, I avoid coming across as clingy or as though I like a boy too much by never being the first to make plans. I’ll usually make the guy do all the work.
  7. I don’t feel the need to constantly talk about him. Here comes another shocker: I’m usually pretty insecure when dating someone. I normally spend a lot of time chewing my friend’s ears off with every detail about what’s going on with the guy I’m dating. I think I’m subconsciously looking for reassurance that things are going well.
  8. I’m not worried about the future or “what we are.” This is still all new. We’ve been hanging out for about a month now and I’m just enjoying the time. I’m not overthinking labels or where this is all headed. I’m just enjoying my time with him right now.

I’ve been very un-Liz like and I’m really liking it.

 

 

 

Let’s Talk About the Elephant in the Blog

elephant-in-the-room modern family

I started this blog on April 1, 2014. It was just a little over a month after my 28th birthday. I was working a dead end job. A job that I did love because I worked with some amazing people but it was going nowhere. I had absolutely no benefits and was barely living paycheck to paycheck. I was also living in a basement. (Yep, I was the cliche creep literally blogging from her basement when I started this blog.) Additionally, I was incredibly single. Probably the most single I’ve ever been since I went on my first date ever.

In those past two years, I’ve had a lot of ups and downs. But that was kind of the whole point of this blog. It was me struggling with still being a fumbling twenty-something and having no idea what I want to do with my life. I was always hoping that when I hit that 30 milestone things would start to look up.

Well, it turns out that the big 3-0 is almost here. I have a lot of friends that jokingly ask me what I’ll call my blog after my birthday next month. (It’s February 25th for anyone who wants to send me presents!) “I Am 30 Now” doesn’t really have the right ring to it. I’m not feeling “I’m Not 20 Anymore” either. So for anyone wondering what’s going to happen to this blog’s name after my birthday, nothing will be happening. This will still be “Am I Thirty?” You all can rest easy now. You’re welcome.

I am a pessimist at heart and sometimes feel that if I get too excited about something, I’ll only be let down. But if I’m being honest with myself, things are really looking up for me at the moment. I may be heading into my thirties with not as much dread as I thought I would. I officially graduated from grad school and have my MLS degree. I was just rereading my About Me page and this is what I wrote: I am in grad school for Library and Information Science. I hope to be done the fall of this year. I eventually want to work with children or young adults in a public library. Well I earned that degree this fall and starting Monday I will be working as a Young Adult Librarian for the Brooklyn Public Library. (I still can’t really believe that I got the exact job I wanted right after graduating.) I am also finally able to move back out of my dad’s apartment. I had to move back home when I started school but now with my new fancy job, I am looking for places so I can live on my own again. I am still a single gal but I feel like this past year has taught me a lot about dating. I’ve finally started to figure out the things I’m doing wrong and what I do want in a relationship. There is a boy in the picture. A really nice boy who’s tall and makes me laugh. We’ve only gone on two dates so I wouldn’t call it anything at the moment. But I do know that I am going to give him a proper chance, not obsess over every little thing, and not run away the second I find one little thing about him I don’t like.

I named this blog “Am I Thirty?” on a whim. It was more to joke about the theory that once you’re in your thirties you have it all figured out. Being less than two months from thirty, I can already tell you that theory is bull. We will never have it all figured out no matter how old we are or how perfect our lives seem on social media.

I have no expectations that things are going to be perfect this next year. My job is going to be difficult and it’s going to take a lot of time and energy to get used to this brand new position. I live in NYC so even with a real job, I will not be able to afford some amazing apartment. And yes, most of my furniture will still be coming from IKEA. Also, who knows where things will end up with nice, tall boy who makes me laugh.

The name and the major themes of this blog are not going to change just because I’ll no longer be in my twenties. Sure, I feel like I’m moving towards the right direction and for once have a grasp on what I want to do with my life. I’m also a lot more confident in myself than I’ve ever been before. But I don’t have that “picture perfect, shit all together” life so many think they’ll have by the time they’re thirty.

So don’t worry about this blog going away or changing it’s tune just cause I’ll be thirty soon. Maybe, if I’m going to make any change, I should change the blog name to “Am I Sure I’m Thirty?”

What New Year’s Resolutions Actually Look Like

lying to yourself gifHappy New Year’s bitches! (I’m a few days late but go with it! I never post on here when I actually want to.) I hope you all had a wonderful New Year’s. I had a party at my sister’s house and passed out on the couch after one too many shots of Jameson. Translation: I had an awesome New Year’s!

New Year’s is that annoying time when people won’t shut the fuck about all that “New Year, New Me” nonsense. You’re not going to change into some better version of yourself once the clock strikes midnight. You’d think by now people would realize that New Year’s resolutions are a joke. You’re just lying to yourself. But nope! Come January first, a membership to the gym becomes the hottest ticket in town and you realize that people are still buying into the idea of New Year’s resolutions.

I am all for people making goals in the New Year. I don’t want to spend all 365 days sitting on my ass watching Netflix. (Plenty of those days will be spent doing that but not all 365.) I’d like to accomplish a few things before December 31, 2016. And so should you! Goals are good to have but let’s all stop with the resolutions. It’s unrealistic to think that you’re going to completely change who you are as a person simply because the calendar year now ends with a six instead of a five.

And the real kicker is that most people make the same set of resolutions. Resolutions that they usually proceed to fail within the first month or so of the New Year. Let’s take a look at how your resolutions are really going to turn out.

“I am going to eat more healthy food!”
This is one that too many people make. You wind up eating like shit from Thanksgiving until New Year’s Eve, realize that you don’t fit into any of your pants anymore, and decide that a change needs to be made. This is the year you’re going to finally say goodbye to fried foods and start eating a ton of green shit.

Eating healthy - dieting sucksHere’s how things really go: That first week is awesome. You pack salad for lunch and eat nothing but grilled chicken for days. Then someone decides to bring donuts to the office and all hell breaks loose. You consume five donuts in a matter of minutes and you’ve officially lost your way. 2016 will just be another year where you spend Sundays eating everything in your house because “I’m totally going to start my diet tomorrow.”

“I am going to start working out more!”
I wasn’t kidding when I said a gym membership becomes the hottest ticket in town. The eating healthy and working out tend to go together. You’re not going to throw down Big Macs and then run on the treadmill. You’re going to eat your sad salad and work out for forty minutes. So you buy that gym membership and vow that the money won’t go to waste because you’ll use the gym ALL THE TIME!

I did that pushup for nothingHere’s how things really go: You waste your hard earned money on a gym membership every month yet you never actually go to the gym. You go the first week and convince yourself that you’re really getting into a routine. Then it starts to get colder and colder. Then a really big snow storm hits. No one wants to work all day and then go to the gym when it’s zero degrees outside. So that routine is out the window. You spend the next few months hibernating. Then the weather gets warmer and you think, “Now I can get that bikini body.” So once again you go to the gym for about a week before you realize all the other shit you’d rather be doing than working out.

“I am going to start saving money.”
Saving money is smart. It’s always good to have that rainy day stash. So you figure that this will finally be the year that you really put aside that 10% of your check every time you get paid. You can do this. Ten percent is nothing! Building a nice savings account will be easy.

treat yo selfHere’s how things really go: Saving money is really hard! You have some really great intentions of putting money aside every week but then life gets in the way. People have birthdays, you just have to have that new dress, you gotta eat a lot of fattening food on Sunday before you start your diet the next day, some asshole hits your car while it’s parked and you have to shell out $300 to get it fixed (this actually happened to me in 2015). You wanna save money but shit just keeps getting in the way!

“I’m going to start going out more and enjoying life.”
People usually fall into two categories: the saving money group or the going out more group. It’s hard to do both. You can either save your money or go out and live your life. Usually those who had a particularly boring year tend to enter the latter group. They decide they’re going to go on more vacations, go to more parties, become more of a “Yes Man.”

Help me, I'm poorHere’s how things really go: You start to look up some vacation packages just to see where you can go. Then you realize that shit is crazy expensive. Being a “Yes Man” is great in theory until you start realizing that shots and a trip to the Bahamas aren’t quite as important as paying your rent every month.

“I am going to start dating more and really giving people a chance.”
You know what else is a hot ticket in January besides a gym membership? A membership to an online dating site. You’ve spent the holidays alone with no one to kiss under the mistletoe or when the clock strikes at midnight. You vow that by next year you’ll have someone to cuddle up with when the temperature drops. So you find your best selfies and join a dating site. You’re ready to start giving people a chance and be more open with dating.

I don;t like peopleHere’s how things really go: Turns out that online dating is one of the worst things you can do to yourself. You go on a few dates and each one starts and ends with you just wanting to get home so you can finish binge watching your show. Turns out that most people suck and dating really brings out the worst in people.

Resolutions are for chumps! Just don’t even do them. Instead make some goals. Work towards something you’ve wanted to achieve for awhile now.

Eight Other Christmas Songs That Are Super Offensive

baby it's cold outside

So The Washington Post recently wrote an article about “Baby It’s Cold Outside” apparently being the new rape anthem and Bill Cosby’s favorite song. They asked what should be done with this song and how much longer a wholesome store like Macy’s will continue to play this atrocious melody.

“Baby It’s Cold Outside” was written back in 1944. Back when women were supposed to be proper ladies who only gave their vaginas to their husbands and only for the sole person to make other little humans. I think it’s pretty obvious the lady who “really can’t stay” wants to stay but society won’t have it. She needs to act demure so she doesn’t have to worry about what “the neighbors might think.”

If this song was written today and the lyrics were the exact same, I’d be thinking “home boy needs to take no for an answer and girl needs to put that drink down right away and run out of that apartment as fast as she can.” But also, if it was written for today’s society where women are allowed to have sex and make their own decisions (shocking, I know!), the song would probably be a lot shorter. It would probably go one of two ways.

I really can’t stay
Baby, it’s cold outside
Shit you’re right it is cold – Pour me a glass of wine and let’s see what’s on Netflix
OR
No shit Sherlock, It’s winter, Of course it’s cold – Give me my jacket so I can leave
The End

Not everything needs to be taken at face value and not everything in this world is offensive. But if we’re going to attack “Baby It’s Cold Outside,” let’s look at some other SUPER offensive Christmas songs that need to be banned immediately.

1. Deck the Halls
Offensive Lyric – Don we now our gay apparel
Excuse me, what do you mean my “gay apparel.” Are you trying to say that just because I’m wearing my favorite flannel shirt I must be a lesbian? Offensive!

2. Happy Holidays
Offensive Lyric – The whole fucking song!
What is this shit about Happy Holidays? It’s Merry Christmas NOT Happy Holidays.

3. Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer
Offensive Lyric – All of the other Reindeer used to laugh and call him names; The never let poor Rudolph join in any Reindeer games
So years of bullying can just be pushed aside cause Santa finds himself in a pickle? Not cool, not cool at all!

4. Feliz Navidad
Offensive Lyric – Feliz Navidad, Prospero Año y Felicidad
This is pretty obvious: Cultural Appropriation! Do you have any idea how many non-Spanish speaking people I’ve seen belt out this song? Offensive!

for lease navidad

5. Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer
Offensive Lyric – And we just can’t help but wonder, Should we open up her gifts or send them back? (Send them back!)
This entire song is pretty much one big fuck you to poor little old Grandma. She gets left with hoof prints on her forehead and her husband is chilling watching football and her ungrateful kids want to send back the gifts she bought. It’s messed up.

6. Do They Know It’s Christmas
Offensive Lyric – And there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmas time, The greatest gift they’ll get this year is life
Fun fact: Despite popular belief, Africa is in fact not just one big giant country but a continent. Crazy, I know!

7. Santa Claus Is Watching You
Offensive Lyric – So baby if you ever do me wrong, Break my heart and leave me alone, When Christmas comes, you’ll be crying too, ‘Cause Santa Claus is watching you, He’s everywhere, he’s everywhere
I fully admit that I actually had never heard this song before writing this post. The entire lyrics are pretty amazing. I suggest you check them out. This pretty much reads like a song Edward would dedicate to Bella during the holidays.

8. I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus
Offensive Lyric – Then, I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus, Underneath his beard so snowy white
I am an idiot and for a really long time I thought this was a song about a little boy catching her mom’s cheating ass. I though mom was cheating on dad with Santa. Now I realize that this little boy has walked in on some weird role playing by his parents and that is sooooo much creepier and offensive.

I would like the record to show that I actually love all of these Christmas songs and everyone needs to leave these songs alone! I wasn’t kidding when I said Christmas music was the shit.

To all my lovely readers, I hope you guys have a wonderful Christmas. And if you don’t celebrate Christmas, I hope you enjoy some delicious Chinese food!

merry christmas assface

TBT: I Was a Know-It-All Brat Even at 5-Years-Old

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Source

This week’s Throwback Thursday is Christmas-themed. It tells the story of how each of the three Thompson sisters finally realized that there is no Santa and how it fits our individual personalities perfectly. (If you still believe in Santa, please stop reading now. I’m not here to break any hearts.)

do you believe in santa

In my last TBT, I briefly mentioned that my older sister was a bit of an animal when we were younger. She was definitely the problem child of the bunch. She was always breaking the rules. She found out that Santa isn’t real by doing what she did best: breaking the rules.

You gotta break the rules

Like every child on Christmas Eve, she was put to bed and told that she had to go to sleep or else Santa wouldn’t come drop off presents. My sister didn’t believe that Santa would be that much of a dick. What if a child had insomnia? Or woke up and really had to pee? Was Santa going to deny that child presents because of an overactive bladder?

My sister wasn’t buying it. She decided to sneak out of her bed to see if she could see the fat man in action. She saw something slightly different. She saw my mom putting the presents under the Christmas Tree and my dad eating the cookies we lovingly laid out for Santa.

But being the tough older sister that she is, she took it in stride. She was still getting the presents so it didn’t really matter to her. Presents trump your parents lying to you any day of the week.

I was one of those really smart kids growing up. I’m a shining example of why you shouldn’t constantly tell your child how smart they are. They need to be reminded that hard work is important as well. I was always effortlessly smart that when I entered the real world and noticed that there are a lot of other smart people out there, I couldn’t handle it. (Do you like how I’m blaming my hot mess of a life on the fact that I was told I was smart when I was little?)

I basically peaked in the second grade when I got a perfect score on my math Regents. It was all down hill from there. But back in Kindergarten, I was still a little Einstein.

I'm really smart

I believed in Santa for a little bit. We didn’t have a chimney but my parents told us all about Santa’s special key. Santa had a special key that allowed him to break and enter into anyone’s house who didn’t have a chimney. At 4-years-old this made perfect sense to me. Of course, Santa would have a special key that gets into every house. Of course, he can make it all around the world in 24-hours. Of course, a red-nosed reindeer would put aside years of abuse to help out his tormentors. I was getting presents. I didn’t question anything.

Then I entered Kindergarten and I started to learn a few things. I started to do the math and things just weren’t adding up. My older sister was an asshole most of the time but how come she never once got a bag of coal under the tree? How in the heck did Santa know not to go to my best friend’s house cause she was Jewish? There were way too many questions and not enough answers.

Finally, I let my parents know that the jig was up. I informed them that I knew Santa wasn’t real but it was all good. I’d still like the presents. I remember being out to dinner for Christmas Eve and the waitress talking to me about Christmas morning and Santa Claus. My parents probably weren’t too happy to realize that at 5-years-old their child was already turning into a bitter cynic. This waitress tried her hardest to convince my Grinch-heart that Santa was real. I just gave her a “Oh honey” shake of the head and said, “I know there’s no such thing as Santa Claus. You can’t convince me otherwise.” She probably just walked away and prayed she’d never have a child as annoying and bratty as myself.

Then there was my little sister. The baby. In many ways, she fits the description of the baby. She’s the one my sister and I always feel like we have to watch over. We’re always trying to help her get her life together. We’re like annoying mother hens but it’s out of love.

My little sister believed in Santa way longer than she probably should have. But being the baby, my parents allowed it. Once she stopped believing, there was no more pretending. She was in the fourth grade and still believing in Santa. Maybe this is just the bratty know-it-all in me, but I think by then you should have been able to figure out that flying around the world handing presents to children in 24 hours isn’t possible.

So my parents had no choice but to break the news to her. I guess they decided that they didn’t want her to be bullied for her beliefs. (Cause we all know kids are fucking assholes and would bully someone for believing in Santa.) They probably also didn’t want her to find out in some other more horrific way. They made the decision to let her know that Santa wasn’t real and they actually provided the presents for Christmas.

What did my little sister do? She simply chose not to believe my parents.

you sit on a throne of lies

Apparently a fat man in a red suit traveling the world on a flying sleigh was more believable than my parents buying us presents. She told my dad she didn’t believe him and come Christmas morning was so happy to see the presents that “Santa” left for her. I believe it took another two years before she finally gave up this “Santa is real” dream.

*For all my Christmas celebrating readers, how old were you when you stopped believing in Santa?

This Is My Grown-Up Christmas List

what do you want for christmasI love Christmas songs. The second it hits November 1st, I start blasting the Christmas songs. And I will play Mariah Carey’s iconic “All I Want For Chistmas” all year round. Anyone who has a problem with this can fight me. Christmas music is the shit!

However, I will fully admit that some Christmas songs are ridiculous. “My Grown-Up Christmas List” is number one on the ridiculous list for me. I love all things cheesy but even this is a little too cheesy for me. What you really want for Christmas is for no more wars to start and for love to never end?

you do bridesmaidsWell aren’t you just a special snowflake? News Flash: most people do want these things for Christmas. If someone said to me, “Listen you can either get yet ANOTHER gift set of lotions from Bath & Body Works or guarantee that no child would ever go to bed hungry again. Which one do you want?” I’m not a heathen. I’ll buy the lotions myself. Let the poor children eat.

But let’s be serious here. Wars ain’t ending and my shitty paycheck ain’t feeding all those hungry kids. I can barely feed myself. I can sing my little hear out about all the ways I’d like to see this world get its shit together, but it’s not going to help. In the end of the day, people are still going to be hungry, people are still going to be dying, and idiots are still going to be convinced that Donald Trump would actually make a good president. You can’t fix the world with a Christmas List.

So I’m going to be grumpy, materialistic, and shallow, and mention all the things that I really want on my Grown-Up Christmas List:

1. I would like to be able to drink without feeling like I need 27 Gatorades, 55 cheeseburgers, and 200 hours of sleep to recover the next day.

2. Please stop Demi Lovato from ever making music again. Nothing against her as a person. I’m sure she’s lovely but her music is atrocious. And this is coming from someone who has loved every single song Justin Bieber has ever released.

3. Could I please have Tom Hiddleston eye-fuck me the way he’s eye-fucking Kat Dennings in this gif? And when he’s done can he dick-fuck me?

tom hiddleston eye fuck

4. Can my family just erase any memory of reading that above sentence about me being asked to be dick-fucked? Thanks!

5. Since there is no way I am ever going to diet, can I please just be able to eat whatever I want and maintain my weight? That’s not even asking that much. I’m not asking to be a size zero. I’ll deal with this muffin top if I knew it won’t get any bigger no matter how many cupcakes I devour.

6. I want a boy who I will actually like. A boy who understands the difference between their and they’re, doesn’t send dick pics, and will watch ridiculously cheesy horror movies form Netflix with me. And because I already said I’d be shallow, if he could be taller than me when I wear heels, that’d be fantastic!

7. I want to be able to eat whatever I’m craving at any moment but my bank account to never suffer from my insatiable appetite.

8. Whenever I pin any article of clothing to my “Fashion I’ll Never Actually Own” board, I want it to immediately be transported to my closet.

9. A job that doesn’t make me want to murder myself every Monday morning and pays me enough to live with a roof over my head and still be able to enjoy the occasional happy hour.

10. Speaking of Happy Hour…whenever I go out, can drinks always be at happy hour prices and appetizers be half-off?

11. I would like to be able to go a whole month without having a random panic attack where I feel like my heart is going to explode out of my chest for no good reason.

12. I would love for my hair to dry naturally looking like I just stepped out of a Pantene commercial.

13. And I guess when you’re done finding me a man, a job, and making me look good, you can make sure we stop killing each other!  Thanks Santa, you’re the best!

*So what would be on your Christmas list? Feel free to be as unrealistic as possible!

TBT: Don’t Ever Give Me a Pet Hamster

throwbackthursday_622x250Source

This may come as a shock to some of you but there are times when I have no idea what in the world to write about on this blog. Considering how OFTEN I post on here, I’m sure this is incredibly shocking news. With the frequency of my posts, you’d think the ideas are flowing out of me day and night.

Since all of that was clearly sarcasm and I never post frequently on this blog, I’ve decided to change things up a bit by bringing you a new segment I like to call: Throwback Thursday.

I never actually participate in Throwback Thursday on social media. (#TBT for all you cool kids!) I went through an awkward stage from ages 5 to 25. No one wants to see pics of me when I was younger. But stories of a ridiculous childhood can be hilarious and make for fantastic blog posts. That’s why I bring to you the first in my Throwback Thursday series: My disastrous history with pet hamsters. emma watson pet hamster

Oh Emma Watson, I have never related to you so much before. I have had three pet hamsters in my lifetime and they have all died tragic deaths. One was murdered and the other two committed suicide.

I’m a horrible person and cannot actually remember the names of my pet hamsters. Maybe that’s why they killed themselves. They’d rather be dead than have me as their owner. Hamster #1 was the first one to kill himself.

I was good to Hamster #1. I played with him after school every day. He had a nice big cage with a wheel which was perfect for when he wanted to have fun and lose a little weight. He even got one of those clear plastic balls he could roll around the house in. This bastard had everything a little hamster could want but it just wasn’t good enough.

Hamster #1 loved his little hamster wheel. He would play it in at all hours. At least, I always thought he played on it cause he loved it. In reality, he was planning his escape. His escape from this world and the overzealous love of an eight-year-old enjoying their first pet. I woke up one morning to find Hamster #1 lying next to the hamster wheel with a broken neck. Over twenty years later and I still remember the look of fear on his dead face. I live with that image to this day.

My precious parents tried to convince me that he must have fallen off the hamster wheel while it was still turning and got stuck. But I knew better. This bastard was preparing for this all along. He trained on that hamster wheel we lovingly placed in his cage to see how fast he could go. Once he hit maximum speed, he dove head first into that metal hamster wheel of doom! No one will ever be able to convince me it happened any other way.

You’d think that after seeing one hamster murder itself, I’d be done. You’d think wrong. In fact, after that debacle, I got two more hamsters. I thought if only Hamster #1 had a friend maybe he wouldn’t have killed himself.

Enter Hamster #2 and Hamster #3. (I’m still an evil bastard who cannot remember their names.) And it was a horrible disaster from the very beginning. This was no match made in heaven. They absolutely hated one another. Apparently they thought their clear glass cage was a steel cage set for no-holds-barred fights. Several times we caught them in a bloody mess after fighting.

A normal family would have bought a second cage and called it day. Easy solution! I don’t have a normal family. Our solution? Take a giant textbook and place it in the middle of the cage to separate these wannabe MMA hamsters.

The textbook divider worked for a little bit, until it didn’t anymore. One night I was at my friend’s house getting ready to enjoy a sleepover when I got a devastating call from my father. Apparently someone, in their haste to separate the dueling monsters, smashed Hamster #2 with the book. I wish I were kidding. Someone in my family, someone that I trusted, murdered Hamster #2 in cold blood. To this day no one in my family has ever come clean but I think I know who it is. I bet it was my older sister. She’s my favorite person in the world now but when we were younger, she was pure evil. (Maybe I’ll tell you some horror stories of having an older sister in the next edition of TBT.)

So the murder of Hamster #2 goes down as one of the country’s greatest unsolved mysteries and it left me with just Hamster #3. You’d think that after witnessing her arch-nemesis being murdered, she’d be happy. You’d think she’d be dancing around like the munchkins singing “Ding Dong the witch is dead.” Apparently she wasn’t happy. Maybe she was angry that she wasn’t the one who got to do the killing.

So Hamster #3 becomes the second hamster I own to murder itself. I come home from school so excited to play with my one hamster that hasn’t tragically died yet, only to see her sound asleep in the corner of her cage. Being the nice pet owner that I am, I let her sleep. Several hours pass and I think either my hamster has turned into Rip Van Winkle or something is up.

I tap the glass and nothing happens. In my heart, I knew she was dead. That’s the fate of the hamsters in my world. But I wasn’t brave enough to find it out for myself. I call my dad over to investigate. He turns poor little Hamster #3 over and we find a wood chip buried deep inside her stomach. The wood chips I lovingly laid on the bottom of the cage so she’d have a comfy place to sleep were used as a weapon to kill. Once again my parents tried to convince me that this was all an accident. She was just trying to get comfortable when one of those killer wood chips plowed into her. Freak accident. But I knew better. One freak accident, maybe. But after three dead hamsters, I was done.

I didn’t get another hamster after that. I couldn’t do it. It was pretty obvious that I was cursed to live out the rest of my days hamster-less. Future children (if I ever have you) please never ask for a hamster. The answer is no cause I shudder to think what new ways these hamsters would find to commit suicide.