Aimster Succeeds at Not Failing

I have come to the conclusion that I am a horrific blog-maintainer, and that no matter how often I tell myself I will get better, it will probably never happen. It’s like the following other moments in my life:

Situation:
One year I went to go see my dad’s college roommate, who was a professional comedic ventriloquist, perform a children’s show. Instantly, my new life goal was to become a ventriloquist. I convinced my parents to buy a dummy for me for Christmas. It came with a video on how to do tricks like throwing your voice.

Result:
I watched the video once. Throwing my voice took more practice than I had anticipated, so I gave up my dream after a few weeks. The dummy still sits on a shelf in my room. Later in life, I realized my parents spent a lot of moo-lah on that present when there was very little moo-lah to go around. Whoopsy-daisy. I wonder if it was any compensation to them later on that I got great use out of the special stick that you use to move the dummy’s hand when I repurposed it to be my wand in the Harry Potter musicals I made with my friends where I played Harry Potter. Probably not. Sorry, parentals.

That sentence about the wand was quite poorly constructed. Much like my ventriloquism goals.

Situation:
I really wanted a pet guinea pig but my parents weren’t sure I should have one because I did not have the best track record with consistently caring for my pets. I came up with an entire spiel with how I’d be different this time around and exactly how I was going to be a good mother to my new guinea pig. Again, I convinced them to get me one. I don’t know if their multiple instances of getting me things I would never follow through with is more of a comment on how much they love me or how ignorant they can be, but I’m going with the former because that one is definitely true. And because my mom reads this blog.

Result:
I had an adorable guinea pig named Cinnamon. For some time, I took good care of him. Slowly but surely, I became much lazier about cleaning his cage. I have an inferior sense of smell so it didn’t bother me so much, but my mother has a sharp sense of smell so it bothered her a great deal. My laziness exacerbated when I realized that if I went long enough without cleaning my guinea pig’s cage she would do it for me simply because the stench overpowered her.

One day, I realized what a pathetic pet owner I had become, and when a nice man from our church fell in love with Cinnamon whilst doing construction on our home, my mother and I decided to give Cinnamon to him. Cinnamon spent his final years in a specially built habitat with constant attention from the man and his family. RIP little fella.

Ironically, I now own 2 guinea pigs. Even more ironically, I adopted them from a guinea pig rescue agency which made me fill out an application. I had to answer a question about whether or not I’d owned a guinea pig previously. Let’s just say I left out a few details. [Note: My guinea pigs now are much better cared for, although I owe a good chunk of that to my roommates. One of piggies still likes me the best though.]

Here is a list of other things I have started ambitiously and never actually finished:
-Starting my own website
-A slew of novels, screenplays, and short stories
-This list

Interestingly, I began this blog entry intending to write about how I was too damn tired to write a blog entry that told any stories. Then I told two stories. Maybe if I start not intending to do things, I will actually do them.