It’s not that I hate concert themselves because I think that they are absolutely awesome. Loud music, live action, a fun event. I mean, what’s not to like, really? Personally, I haven’t been to many concerts in my life (mostly due to my location) but for the ones I have, I stay for maybe two songs then leave. Why, you may ask? All my life, I have had really sensitive ears. When I was little I couldn’t even attend fireworks. (If you’ve seen my last post, you know now that I have gotten over that.)
Earplugs just don’t cut it. I just can’t go to concerts. Now, I’m not sure if it’s just music I don’t care for or what, but it really sucks hating concerts. My ears burn, I get a migraine, and my body tenses up. I feel really stressed and have anxiety attacks. It’s just too loud for me.
Now, the weird part is, I can listen to music with headphones for hours per day on full blast. Isn’t that odd? So how come concerts make me have full on panic attacks?
I want to get over this because I think concerts would be a lot of fun. Maybe one day my eardrums will adapt to these situations. Until then, I guess I shall just blare my music on my iPod.
We’ve all learned a couple of things from being a kid and we have all had some positive and some negative childhood experiences. As a kid, I was extremely shy and very awkward. Which is like the complete opposite for me now, seeing as I am outgoing and talkative. But nonetheless, here are the seven things that I learned from being a kid.
You’ll never outgrow your favourite toys.
I still wish I had my entire Hamtaro play set, all four of my Tamagotchis, my Pixel Chix set, my Hamtaro plushies, and my My Scene dolls. Some days I just look on eBay and dream of buying them all back. On a more positive note, I still sleep with Blankey every night. It’s a Winnie the Pooh blanket that was bought a week before I was born for me, and my boyfriend and I love it. As a kid I’d tell my parents, “When I become a bratty teenager and want to throw it away, make sure you hold onto it, okay?” Well thank God I never went through that stage.
Christmas is the absolute best time of year.
Even though Christmas is great as an adult, it just doesn’t feel as magical as it did when you were a kid. I learned that being a kid is great because you believe in magic, you are innocent and carefree and just focus on having fun. Cookies, presents, trees, snowmen, snow angels, Santa, reindeer, Christmas movies, and the scent of pine all bring back nostalgia from a person’s childhood.
Adults are not always right.
When you’re a kid, adults seem so superior. They are older, can tell you what to do, and can boss you around. As a kid you think adults are perfect and never make any mistakes. But as a matter of fact that is indeed very far fetched from the truth. Adults are not always right, and as we grow up, we learn that.
It’s okay to be weird.
Let’s get one thing straight: people are judgemental assholes, even as kids. If you’re not alike everyone else and you do your own thing and have different interests, you will be an outsider, teased, called weird, and even bullied. But as we grow older, we tune out what everyone else is saying because we are happy for who we are and what we like. We no longer need to listen to others, we’ve grown and learned that it doesn’t matter what anyone else has to say. If we’re happy, then that’s all that matters. Besides, being weird is better than being just like everyone else.
You need to have confidence in life.
Confidence is key. Once you have confidence, you can be happy anywhere you go. Having confidence in life is crucial. If you never think you’re good at anything or have a good ability, then where will you go? Doubting yourself is the worst thing you can do for low self esteem. Be positive, be confident, and good things will come your way.
Never take anything for granted.
If something (or someone) good is happening in your life, never take it for granted and assume it will always be there. Smile, be happy, and love it.
Just breathe because you’ll make it one day.
This last one is more like a message to myself. Like previously said, I was a really weird kid. As I grew older, I didn’t have many friends, I had a weird style, I didn’t act like everyone else because I matured way quicker than the other kids, I had different interests, and I had a different personality. Therefore, in grade school I was bullied and teased and harassed, even by the teachers. There was probably two teachers that actually showed me respect at that school. No one ever believed in me, I was just that ugly weird girl in the corner who has one friend, wears Hannah Montana tattoos in her face, hides in the bathroom during recess and hides in the locker room during gym class. Yeah, I didn’t have much confidence then. But bam, I was thirteen and I wrote and self published my first novel which made kids in my class glow with envy. Then I wrote, directed, and starred in a Christmas play that the whole school and their parents came to see. Then I graduated and more years passed. I fixed my eyebrows and my hair, I wore make-up, I had a better style, but more importantly, I found myself and grew confidence. (I was kinda teased in high school too, but I brought it onto myself by being a bitch. Oh well, those people deserved it.) Now I run a blog, have an amazing older boyfriend, run a YouTube channel and actually have a fan base, and I’m trying to get my books in the stores. So see, kiddies, anything is possible. Believe in yourself to be a better person. Just remember to be kind to others even when it’s hard, and love yourself!
Her name was Hammie and she was the most beautiful, loving, sweetest hamster in the whole world. I got her one evening in August. It was a day after I got my foot stung by a bee, and I was allergic, and my whole foot swelled up and I couldn’t even walk. I had McDonald’s for dinner that night and I wore red flats with my white dress with the black hearts. And there I walked into Pet Smart, where originally I was going to get a hermit crab for my room. For years I wanted a gold hamster named Hammie. A month before, my boyfriend and I talked about how cool it would be to get a hamster for my birthday. I tried to convince him to get me one, but Jacob said he wouldn’t do that without my mom’s permission. Well, damn.
Now this was two years ago, about five days after my birthday. And I saw her: Hammie, the gold hamster, the one I thought about getting for years but never actually thought I would. She was running on her wheel in a cage with another hamster, a darker one. Jacob and I laughed because her bum looked really big as she ran. I didn’t even look at the crabs. I saw the girl who worked there and asked if she can make sure no one buys her and she said, “No problem”. A bunch of kids looked at her but I knew that they couldn’t buy her so it was all good. I texted my mom pretending I already bought her, to see what she would say. Surprisingly she let me get her, she must’ve known how good I’ve gotten taking care of pets, having fish and frogs in my room for years. (We had rabbits and hamsters before, let’s just say I kinda neglected them. That’s why I was surprised she let me get one.)
I stayed at that Pet Smart for four hours, walking around the area, going into Best Buy, then coming back around nine so I could get her and then catch my ride. The girl working there picked her up, said, “Come here, princess,” and she let me hold her. I’ll never forget the first time I ever pet her. I was so shocked that her fur was so soft. Softer than any other animal, including dogs and cats. It was so silky and beautiful. I loved her already.
That night she bit me and I accidentally dropped her on my floor. The next day I poked my hand in the cage while she was sleeping and she bit me again. Always listen to your parents, kids. My mom told me to leave her alone for a few days, but she was so cute, I just wanted to play with her! This is a picture from the night I got her, the very first picture of her ever:
You can see her yellow ball (which she hated) in the background, and I let her chew on my cuticle remover stick. She was just a baby, and absolutely adorable. It didn’t take me long to fall in love with her. Over the next year, she was right beside my bed. Literally, there’s a desk where she’d be. She was the first thing I looked at when I woke up, and the last thing I looked at before I fell asleep. When I came home, no matter where from, the first thing I would do is go up and pick her up and cuddle. Not take off shoes, coat, not pet my dog, just go straight to Hammie before anything else. She loved treats; her favourites were sunflower seeds, strawberry yogurt drops, and honey yogurt drops.
We were so close and did everything together. I thought about her all the time when we weren’t together. And we were always spending time together when we were. I bought her the cutest bedding, the most awesome toys, and gave her all the love in the world. She’s all I would ever talk about. I’m sure my family and friends got annoyed, but I always had so many stores to share. Like how one time, I left her bag of treats open and she ran into it, dug her claws into it so I couldn’t pull her out, and stuffed ten treats in her mouth. I had to shake the bag to get her out of it. Or the time when I took her to the vets and she was scared so she was climbing all over me to feel safe. Or when she stuffed her cheeks with food. Or the time when I gave her a huge treat and she refused to let go of it. She brought it on her wheel and refused to let it go.
She meant the world to me and hopefully I meant the world to her. She was healthy, cute, and happy. Come November, I noticed that she was going blind. Her eyes were beginning to turn white in the middle. At first I tried to say it was my imagination, but a week later I knew it had to be cataracts. We took her to the vet where (sorry if you’re reading this) the vet had absolutely no idea whatsoever on what she was talking about. She said it wasn’t cataracts, and that she had a deformed pupil, etc, but I really think it was cataracts. So anyway, she was blind. From there on, I just thought about her dying and it made me so sad. The song “Gary Come Home” from Spongebob Squarepants made me feel even more sad, I just pictured terrible things:
Having to put her body in a box.
Cleaning out her cage after she died.
Living without her.
It was like a vicious cycle I couldn’t get out of. From November until February, I would cry at least once a week just thinking about it, and she was healthy then. Everyone knew she was my baby, everyone. Then one day, I took her out of her cage, and noticed a red mark underneath her chin. I almost cried like crazy but I thought to myself, “Calm down, it’s probably just nothing like her eyes.” To this day, I still have no idea what was wrong with her. But it’s what killed her. She got this two days before the new year. But she looked fine, was still healthy, etc. I didn’t know if it was a bite, a rash, or something else. But days went by and nothing happened. Okay. Then I noticed it started to get bigger, and freaked out, cried, the whole ordeal. Still acting/looking normal. Then it got worse, developed an odour, and I didn’t know what to do. People told me she was losing hair but I pretended not to notice. Should I take her to the vets? The vet is so pricey where I live, almost $100 just to get them looked at. So I didn’t want to go down that route. I tried online, found nothing. To this day I still regret it, saying I could’ve done something differently and it’s all my fault. But even if I took her, would they have known what it was? Probably not. The day before she died I actually made an appointment for the next day to take her in. And she died. I could’ve taken her that day but I didn’t want to.
It was February 12. I just got home from getting my nose ring changed from black to green. My mom made perogies for dinner and put a piece of lettuce on it, pretending to be fancy like how a restaurant does it. I gave a piece of the lettuce to Hammie, and she (in her sick form) gobbled it up right away. Even though she couldn’t walk, couldn’t clean herself, couldn’t do anything, she still loved her food. I didn’t take any pictures. It was too sad. Her bones were deformed, she lost a lot of her hair, she had open sores all over her body and she looked so sad. It was terrible. A few hours later I was watching a movie, and saw she hadn’t eaten her fave treat yet. Weird. This was at 11 PM. I picked it up (she was in her green hut) and I tried to show it to her. I poked my hand in her hiding spot, but she didn’t grab it. I peeked in, and saw her lying there, not moving, eyes open. I bawled. I thought she was already dead. I threw open the cage, took off the hut, and saw her. I picked her up and noticed she was breathing. Now, I have no idea still and never will if she was concious or not. I watched a video on YouTube of someone’s last minutes with their hammy so I knew what them dying looked like. This was it. So I don’t know if she was really there, or if her soul had gone already, but her body was still physically alive. She was barely breathing, and gasping for air. For three hours. She lay in my hand for three hours until she died. My boyfriend came over at one in the morning, an hour before she passed. It was Friday the 13th, the day she died. I hate that day even more now. Before she died, her muscles tensed and she grabbed onto my finger. Then she was gone. The moment I was fearing for months instead of just enjoying her being alive. I think it sort of prepared me, though. But I feel so bad. She didn’t die healthy, happy. She died sick and unrecognisable. She loved food until the day she passed, her last few days she’d just sit in her foot dish and snack. I miss her so much. It’s weird not coming home anymore and seeing her. Sometimes I still look to where her cage used to be and half expect to see her, then it hurts when I realize I just forgot she was gone for a second. It still feels like she’s here.
Some would say she was just a hamster, but for all of the hamster owners out there, you guys know how it is. Hammie made me so happy so I just want to tell her thanks for that, and that I loved her so much and I hope wherever she is now has a giant wheel, all the treats she can ask for, and maybe a friend or two. I only look back on good memories. The day she finally let me hold her, her favourite spot in a desk I had to get rid of, the look on her face when I showed her a treat. The way she cleaned herself, chewed on the bars, ran around my floor. I’m glad Hammie was a part of my life, even though it was only for a short time. I wish she would’ve made it to two years. But I’m glad I got to have her. She gave me eighteen months of happiness and joy. She meant everything to me and I adored her to the ends of the world. In the spring we are burying her and having a memorial. Right now the vets are keeping her body safe. But I feel an empty spot now. I got a locket that says “I Love You…” and I will put her picture in it so she can always be with me. A video tribute will be uploaded soon.
Goodbye, ❤ Hammie. ❤ Rest in peace wherever you are. I wish you could come home. I’d do anything to see you again even for a minute. ❤
After years of being a Seinfeld fan, I finally had the honour of seeing him live last Friday! It was the first time he had ever come to my city, so I was looking forward to it. He’s on tour right now. His opening act was fellow comedian Mario Joyner who was also hilarious. It was lots of good laughs and I am glad that I had the chance to go!
Since it’s less than two days away until the new year, I decided to write a blog post about blog posts. Literally. So today’s topic is: why I started to blog. I definitely don’t blog as much as I should, but for what I do, I like it. Blogging’s fun. It’s like an online journal for the whole world to read. Somewhere you can place everything you love and write about anything that interests you at all. When I first got my blog, I just wanted it to be a website about me, my novels, my acting career, and my motivational speaking career. Then as time went on, I realized that WordPress was specifically designed to be a blogging platform. So, I began to write more blogs. A lot of opinion pieces, influential quotes, stuff like that. Then as I acted a bit more and did a public speaking event, I realized that juggling three things (being a novelist, actress, and public activist) was too much for me to handle as a career and I just wanted one thing to focus on. Since I’ve been writing books since a little girl, I decided on dropping the acting and motivational speaking titles and just continue on with writing. This is why my blogs are a lot more wordy now, rather than just quotes like they used to be. But I do love quotes still! You probably noticed. My favourite author and I talk sometimes (I know, she’s totally awesome) and she told me that publishers enjoy looking at blog posts and that every good author should have one. Right on! I’m going to stop rambling on now. But in conclusion, what I thought about the day I started writing on my blog was: “Writing’s fun. Blogs are fun. Let’s do this.” And so I have! Oh, and, I get to proclaim my obsession for the colour pink. Also in case you haven’t noticed, which you probably have.
Everyone has their little phobias and pet peeves and things they just cannot stand. Here are nine of mine. Originally, I was going to use pictures to go into further detail but I thought I’d be nice and spare everyone (mostly myself) the gruesomeness of having to see these things. What are some of yours?
There’s an actual thing called needle phobia. The scientific name for it is “trypanophobia”. Yes, it is a real thing. There’s a whole bunch of facts and statistics. Including, a large percentage of people with this would rather die than get a shot and also some people just have a fear with medical needles. I feel a lot more comfortable having a needle pierce through my nose (which I got done last year) than get a flu shot in my arm. Seriously, it’s bad. Those of you who have this know what I’m talking about.
NO, PLEASE, NOOO!!! Centipedes are ugly. And creepy. And weird. Ugh. No. Maybe my fear sprouted from waking up in the middle of the night when I was a kid and having a centipede casually walking right beside me. Yeah, I think I was scarred . . . I can’t even look at a picture of one without cringing and feeling things crawling all over me.
When my mom was pregnant with my brother, she couldn’t stand seafood. He hates seafood. When my mom was pregnant with me, she couldn’t stand raw meat. And I absolutely despise it. I cannot cook meat because of this and probably never will. My husband will have to do it. Even looking at it makes me want to throw up. And as for steak? It has to be brown, well done, fully cooked. Any pink/red at all and I’ll gag.
But, doesn’t everyone hate rude people? Wait, what about rude people? Do rude people hate rude people? How does that even work? The questions that keep me awake at night . . .
This one is pretty odd, but, I actually can’t stand sports. If I go to a hockey, baseball, or basketball game, I’m only there for that buzz of excitement in the air and the food. Mostly the food. I find them boring and I actually have a fear of soccer. I don’t know if it came from a bad experience or what, but I’ve always been scared of soccer and always will. *Shudders*.
Extremely Loud Noises
If it’s music I like, then no biggy. But if it’s music I hate, or any other loud noise, I immediately get a migraine and can’t focus and in certain situations depending on what it is and how loud it is, I can get really bitchy. So please don’t blow a horn in my ear at any given time or I may or may not attack you for it.
Redundant Romance Movies/Books
Blech. So annoying and corny. Yes, I do realize there’s some romance in Mackenzie High. But it’s not that kind of romance. Come on, people, do you really think Taylor and Lonny stare into each other’s eyes and say “I’d be lost without you?” Nu-uh.
I have to hold my breath when I walk past someone smoking. The smell is gross, the action is gross, just everything.
Freezing Cold Weather
Which is odd because winter is my favorite season. (Because of Christmas, boots, cuddling next to the fireplace, hot cocoa, etc). And I LOVE my winter coat. But when I’m outside and it’s in the minuses, then no way. I’m outta there.