When my son, Silas, was little we used to read a lot of "Winnie the Pooh." Neither of us particularly liked Pooh Bear himself. After all, he seemed to get himself into a lot of ridiculous situations and was always a little obnoxiously good natured. If I were Christopher Robin, I too would say "Silly old bear," but it would also be accompanied with a good amount of eye rolling.

When my son, Silas, was little we used to read a lot of "Winnie the Pooh." Neither of us particularly liked Pooh Bear himself. After all, he seemed to get himself into a lot of ridiculous situations and was always a little obnoxiously good natured. If I were Christopher Robin, I too would say "Silly old bear," but it would also be accompanied with a good amount of eye rolling.

Silas liked Piglet. Silas has a small stature himself, so I think he liked the idea of a very small little character being able to solve problems and situations just the same as everyone else. I like Piglet, too. He reminds me of the friend that everyone has that's a little too hyper and talks too fast and high-pitched, and is always just a little bit more in your personal space than comfort really allows for. Piglet is also a worrier, a trait my son shares. Piglet and Silas aren't necessarily negative people (or little tiny pigs), but they like things planned out and worry about their friends. Piglet is always looking out for Pooh, and Silas is always looking out for me.

My favorite character has always been Eeyore. It sounds like I'm a depressed person — that I not only like Eeyore the best, but I feel like we're the most alike, as well. I'm not slow moving and slow talking, as I imagine Eeyore to be. In fact, I talk so fast that people don't even ask me to slow down, they just stare at me blankly until I realize that it probably doesn't even sound like English words coming out of my mouth; it probably sounds like a Klingon sucking helium.

Eeyore also sounds like the kind of guy that's easily amused; after all, he was totally satisfied when his birthday presents consisted of a jar and a deflated balloon. In the book, Eeyore is able to entertain himself by slowly taking the balloon and putting it first in the jar, and then taking it back out of the jar. Let me tell you, if you bring me an empty jar and a deflated balloon for my birthday, you will not be invited back the next year.

The part of Eeyore that I identify with the most is his gloominess. I can easily disintegrate into being glum and gloomy. The glass isn't just half empty, but why couldn't someone like me enough to just fill the glass up all the way to start with? I guess I'll just go eat worms.

I really do make a conscious effort to be positive, but it's not my natural personality. When I open the blinds in the morning, on a bright, sunny winter day, I say to Silas, my industrious little Piglet, "Oh look! It's going to be a beautiful day!" But inside all I can think is: "Well, there goes the global warming. It's probably because of the greenhouse gases I contributed to the ozone layer through driving my car to go three blocks yesterday. We'll probably have another drought this summer, darn it."

I'm not sure if Eeyore ever made a conscious effort to change his outlook on life, but his friends always accepted him just the way he was. After all, his friends may have eaten his food and popped his balloons before his birthday party, but they certainly were willing to come to his party. No one ever says, "Let's just take the long way around the hundred acre wood, I don't have the energy to deal with Eeyore today, he's such a Debbie Downer."

Silas also accepts me just the way I am, though I feel like I catch him in more than a couple eye rolls. Silas is the kind of friend who would fill my glass up to the very brim and keep it that way.

Zoe Abel is studying the weather and predicting gloom and clouds and rain; after all, it's the only thing that would make her happy. You can contact her at dailyzoe@gmail.com