awkward plasma visit

If you read this other blog, then this post is exactly the same. Don't be hatin'...

As a typical college student, I try to spend the least amount of money possible and bring in as much as I can. Enter, plasma donation. While some people may consider selling plasma as being less than favorable because of the circumstances of selling something from one's body, I am willing. I would probably sell a kidney if it wasn't illegal... yeah anyways, I went and donated plasma on Tuesday and there was a whole round of tests and questions that I had to answer and complete before I could even start pumping the plasma.
Here are my thoughts from my donation:
-the finger prick hurts almost worse than the donation itself
-one gets asked the same questions over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over.
-the whole questionnaire part probably would have gone faster if I could have just said, "No, I've never done drugs, I've never had sex, and I've never been to Africa or exposed to AIDS/HIV." All the while, I was wearing my Institute tee-shirt.
-my two favorite questions were probably 1) "Are you ears pierced and currently open?" I was wearing earrings that day. Muahaha. 2) "Have you ever been pregnant or are currently so?" No sir. 3) "Are you breastfeeding?" Again, negatory.
-I was at the plasma center from 3:30pm-6:50pm.
-the needle that the physicians use is FREAKING HUGE.
-it's probably not a good thing when you're donating plasma and then guy sticking you with a needle says, "Oh, that's not supposed to be happening..." and then you look and see that your vein is turning into a lump the size of a quarter. Just saying.
-getting a giant ice pack taped to said arm from above and then having two immobilized arms.
-seeing an old boyfriend from high school whom you haven't seen for about five years. That's all I'm saying about that.
-THE CROWNING AWKWARD MOMENT OF THE ENTIRE VISIT: getting a male physician for the physical. Who happens to be cute and around the same age as you. And then that whole awkward moment when he has to listen to your breathing and heartbeat under your shirt. With his cold hands. No worries, there was a female physician in there at the same time. Oh and then when they're pumping blood out of you and BOTH your arms hurt and you're breathing in and out of your mouth so you don't cry/throw up, he happens to come from the front room and check on you. Awwwwwkward.

Also, gnaaarly bruise my friends.


Oh, and I'm going again today.
All for the money, my friends.

majoring in feline habitability...

Friends...my roommate Alisha and I were in Child Guidance today and we were watching a clip about the myth of over-population depicted by stick figures of sorts. So of course, it's talking about how many children each woman should have and then it goes into women who don't have children...they totally had a stick figure woman with cats around her stick ankles. I couldn't stop laughing. Really hard. Pretty sure Alisha and I were bent over laughing in our laps during class.
You see, it is a common inside joke around my family and friends that I self proclaim myself as possibly becoming a cat lady. So cat lady stuff is kind of my favorite. It's terribly funny to me. And then Alisha and I decided we could major in feline habitability. You know, be a professional cat lady with a degree. Think they offer that any where?
In other things, thanks for the kind words over my post below. I have not yet received a letter from my friend in Australia, but all is well. Just as a disclaimer, I am not formally waiting for this fellow down under. He is however, a good friend, a perfect gentleman, and the nicest boy I have ever dated. He also has a habit of popping back into my life now and then and throwing my mind into a tailspin, as evidenced below. I do not know what the future holds and I do not know who is in it, but I do know that my future is in hands much more capable than mine.
Also, feline habitability has a nice ring to it....
Just kidding...maybe.

thousands of miles, a few years...

You know how sometimes people say you don't know what you have till it's gone?
People are dumb. And sometimes right.
I wouldn't say that I'm a hopeless romantic.
Actually, sometimes I'm a little bit of a runner about commitment-it makes me nervous.
But once there was a time when someone came along and I realized that I really really really liked him.
I even wrote about him a few times. I didn't think that it would be anything that would last for a while. Then it came to the end and...
I was ready for it to keep going.
But we'd made a mistake. We'd given ourselves a deadline.
Looking back, things wouldn't have worked out at that moment in time but giving ourselves a deadline is one of the stupidest things I have ever done.
There are things I wish I could take back. There were moments that he came back into my life over the past year but among those times I was afraid, I was hesitant, I was focusing on other things and other people, I was convinced that I had found another boy that I liked even more.
And it wasn't till I really saw, till I understood, that I remembered. I remembered everything. The good, the bad, the ugly, the wonderful...all of it.
The summer nights, the laughing, the fact that he remembered things like my favorite places to go, when he would turn up my favorite songs in the car, how he made me laugh, the way he would pull me over to sit next to him in the front seat while he was driving, floating down a river in the rain, the way he'd reach over to hold my hand. And the times I cried because of the distance, because he was distant, the fact that he wasn't him when I would finally see him on weekends, the fights, the anger, the unkind things we'd said, and the very end.
Coincidentally, all this flashed into my mind when I saw him up at a pulpit giving his farewell talk to his ward.
There would be one more time that I would see him before he'd leave on an adventure for two years. I would choke and not tell him the things I would want to most. But I would get a hug that would last me for two years. And I would hear him say one last thing to me, "You go and get your degree." To everyone else, it may not seem like a great farewell statement. But to me, it meant the world because he knows me. He knows the things that mean the very most to me.
So yeah, you don't really know what you had till it's thousands of miles away. And you don't know if you can ever have it back. So you just hope, and wait....and check the mail every day.