So some stuff has happened. I have a new job in the marketing department at Overstock.com. I have a new studio apartment in the downtown department of Utah. That's not what this blog post is about.
This is about animal companionship. I think I'm ready for a pet fish again. Let's play some dreamy background music and take a step back in time to look at my fish past…
2004: I got a plastic fish in a vending machine. It was really great. It had rubbery fins and I liked to keep it in the cup holder of my car. This is what inspired me to want a real fish.
2005: As a super special birthday present I got two goldfish named Kanye and Gup-gup, complete with a purple aquarium. It was the only pet allowed in our dorm room and you better believe we loved those little fish like they were capable of knowing what affection was. I even tried to pet them with my finger on MULTIPLE occasions (every single day). Once I succeeded and it was gross.
Also 2005: A few weeks after acquiring the fish, things started to get sketchy. Gup-gup and Kanye were OBSESSED with sticking their noses above the water and as a result developed strange growths on them. At the time I attributed it to all the finger petting. Also they started swimming upside down like they were one step away from death. So I went to Petsmart where the fish specialist told me that goldfish need oxygen pumped in. Who knew? I had so much to learn about fish mothering.
Again, 2005: Aaaaaaand a few weeks later Gup-gup, apparently traumatized by the lack of oxygen, succumbed to her weird nose growths and died. I always dreamed of Gup-gup and Kanye having a joint funeral, and since it looked like Kanye was also on his death bed my mom lovingly wrapped her corpse in tin foil and wrote "Here lies Gup-gup, she was a good fish" on top. I then put her in the garage freezer to wait until I could hold a proper fish burial.
2006: Kanye makes a miraculous recovery thanks to his new oxygen pump. I would later learn, after accidentally leaving him alone for a week unfed, that Kanye has developed a super-human resistance to death. I'm not proud of this, but once I didn't clean the tank for awhile and there was a slimy green layer so thick you could not see him through it. But did he die? No no no, he just tried to clean his aquarium himself by eating that disgusting green slime. A real testament to his character.
Late 2006: Things took a turn for the worse when Kanye attempted suicide. Every time I cleaned his tank, I had to transport him to a small bowl. Usually this was pretty seamless. This time it was not. As I was herding him into the bowl, he deliberately veered to the right and took a dive onto the floor below. I panicked as his little body flopped around before deftly scooping him and saving his life like the hero I am.
2007: Things were not looking good for Kanye. At this point he has survived several hardships. A very awkward ride from Logan to Salt Lake in a plastic bag on my lap. Things of that nature. He held on though, much to everyone's surprise, and moved to Oakridge with me. I didn't know it yet, but this would be his final resting place.
Early 2008: Okay, to be honest, I was really sick of caring for the super human fish and sort of forgot about him. That is until my roommate got Beta fish. We put the two bowls next to each other and would watch, delighted, as the Beta's rammed against the fish bowl trying to attack Kanye. This lasted until my roommate overfed her Beta fish and they died from gluttony. I am not making this up.
Mid-2008: Kanye was never the same after that. He started swimming very slowly and floating to the surface of his bowl despite desperate attempts to paddle those little fins. I knew his time was getting near. One day I checked on him to find a strange growth coming from his little fish butt. It appeared as though his intestines were literally coming out of him. A few weeks later, I got the text "I think Kanye might be dead." Indeed, he was, and the heartbreak was too much to bear, so I covered his tank with paper towels and mourned. And mourned. And mourned. And forgot about him. And then was too grossed out to look under the paper towel. Finally Deven flushed him down the toilet as I read a eulogy.
Pretty sure Gup-gup is still in my parent's freezer.
Anyway, writing this novel of a blog post actually completely discouraged me from getting a pet.
Soooooo, what's up everyone?
