So, I have good news and bad news. First the bad news.

On December 5, 2009, Mr. Wiggles died. He had a respiratory infection due to stress and being too cold (I left him at a friend's house over Thanksgiving, and it didn't go well). The vet told me he would be fine, but by Saturday afternoon he was lethargic and unresponsive. He passed on the way to the animal hospital. While I'd only had him a few months, I became attached to him. He was the first and only pet who was completely mine-- I bought him, paid for all his stuff. He was my companion in my first apartment, and kept me company when I felt alone or frustrated with my roommate. He was the first thing I saw in the morning and the last I saw at night. It broke my heart to lose him, and I didn't realize the full extent until I came home last night and saw the empty hole where his cage used to be. No matter what happened in my life, he was always a cute, sweet presence when I felt distanced from the people I love or stressed out from one too many papers. I miss him, I love him, and I only wish I had taken him to the vet a few days sooner. RIP Mr. Wiggles.

The good news is that I met a boy. I like him, and he seems to actually be interested in me--I'm not the one doing the pursuing. I can be myself around him, which is another big plus. He also happens to go to UGA and live in my hometown, which is ridiculously convenient. I don't have my hopes up quite yet, but I like where this is heading. My mom always told me something would find me when I least expected it--maybe this is it.