A little shallow thought

I hope I am not alone on this thought and I think if we are all honest with ourselves, you will relate. Facebook has created an opportunity to catch up with friends from WAY back. I am always excited to see who finds me or who I am able to find. Well, tonight someone from way back in my past found me. This guy use to have a huge crush on me when we were like 15. If you knew me at 15 I was extremely picky and didn't really give him chance. This isn't the first time I have had this thought, but upon viewing his profile I thought, "Thank you Jesus that I didn't give him chance!" Know what I mean?

How I love thee, let me count the ways...

The background to this story started about 2 weeks ago on the Metro in DC. Joel was looking for chapstick and I offered him mine, if it wasn't gross to him. Then, he makes the comment that he doesn't want to touch it if I have ever had a cold sore/fever blister. This prompted a rather interesting discussion. Since we (Whatup, Joel, and I) were all science nerds back in college, the conversation was probably a little more detailed than the other passengers wanted to hear. Anyways, so I say to Joel that I haven't had one in probably 5 years. This brings me to last night. Wouldn't you know that around 9pm, I felt one coming! In five years, cold sore free and the first mention and declaration of its absence in my life and voila! So, the only thing I had at my house was the beloved Carmex. This morning I began applying almost every hour. By the morning it had puffed up to a decent size but lo and behold by the afternoon it was gone! I mean, it isn't completely gone but you wouldn't even notice it unless I told you! You see, sometimes the cheap standby works just fine or dare I say, miraculously...

Know when to fold 'em

Today I learned a lesson that only Kenny Rogers can teach you. You gotta know when to fold 'em...know when to walk away, know when to run.
Let me give you a little background before I share my adventure today. As a Science major in college, my classes would offer extra credit if we participated in the blood drive. I will do most anything for extra credit. So, my dad and I made donating blood a father/daughter event. Before you say "awwww," I think the real reason is because my father didn't want me to go alone. This is why: I faint while giving blood. In fact, one time I was donating and mid ball squeeze I fainted and began convulsing in the chair. My father jumped out of his chair to make sure I was still alive while the volunteers frantically began to "save" me. During this episode, my very dear friend, Joanna, was watching. We hadn't met yet, but she recognized me months later when were introduced.
Because I donated blood at least twice a year, I learned the tricks to keep me conscious through the experience. Today I did not practice them all, which leads to my story. I agreed to give it another go for a friend of mine and participate in her organization's blood drive. I mean, I have blood so I should give it away, right? Well, first off, they should not have made me sit in the chair as long as they did. This just built anxiety. Once I completed the process, I felt good. I wasn't nauseous or weak, so I made my way to the goodies table to grab some sugar and sit down for a second. I sat down with some pretzels and began considering some sweets when it all went down hill. I started to feel really light headed and almost checked out. The volunteers/nurses caught wind of it and before I knew it they had an ice pack on my neck, transferred to a donating chair, and tilted back so that the blood would return to my head. After a few sips of Ginger Ale and some folks fanning me, I was better. I joked that I just do it for the attention...
I like to think I didn't "close the sale" on fainting. If passing out is a three step process and the 3rd step is complete unconsciousness, I only achieved step 2. But one thing is certain, I didn't get extra credit for this one. I am officially done. I do have blood and from now on I'm keeping it.

Life is Good...

The Golden Child is not so good. Sorry, Eddie Murphy!

Joel's Last DC Weekend

This is Whatup. Her real name is not Whatup, it's Amy. But if you call her Amy to me, I won't be certain who you are talking about. I met Whatup my freshman year of college in some interesting circumstances that resulted in her nickname. I have never called her anything else.

This is Joel. You may remember him from an earlier post. Joel and Whatup are BFF from college and some of my dearest friends. This last weekend was Joel's last weekend in DC. He has been there for about 3 months being a gypsy nurse. Whatup made a last minute decision to grab a flight to our Nation's Capital and gave me an invite up.

After a rather frustrating morning, I headed north. We hopped on the Metro and had such a great time seeing the sights. We managed to make our way to the National Museum of American History and help them close up shop. Of course, Joel wanted to see all the Obama stuff in there. I'm certain that stuff was put up in October, but whatever. :o)

The sights of DC at night are awesome, so we just walked around for awhile until we got hungry.

Once we finished in the city, we had dinner in Old Towne Alexandria and then headed home. I had a blast and so thankful I was able to make the trip up and spend some QT with these folks. Good times...

Retail Therapy

So, for no reason other than a need to bounce back from disappointment I went shopping after work. I should have run but instead went to the store. Does anyone else pacify situations by retail therapy? My boyfriend of 3 years breaks up with me - I go straight to Trader Joe's. I'm stressed out about deadlines at work - I go to Sephora. I haven't had a date in 6 months - I go to TJ Maxx. The mess in my home is overwhelming - I go to Target. What gives? I wonder if I will even keep all that I bought. I'm already having second thoughts about some of it, but enjoyed the purchase process. I guess you could say, I was fighting recession and exercising my consumer rights. At least that's justifiable enough for me to continue doing it...

Broken Glass

In the last month I have had some major bad luck with glass. A few weeks ago I knocked over a vase of glass flowers I have had since college. Shattered on the floor...Tonight, this happened:

My picture above the fireplace fell and shattered this evening. It actually landed like this and I watched the whole thing happen. Stuff like this just makes me sick. If it is ok, I am going to whine a little bit. It stinks when things like this happen to a single woman, even though it will be easily repaired by replacing the glass. When things go wrong in the home, I always have this initial feeling of loneliness. Isn't that ridiculous? It does sort of pour salt in the wound when things happen and you have no one to help you out. I'm not even going to clean it up tonight....or tomorrow. Perhaps I should consider all things plastic and leave glass out of my life.

Looks like I'm making a trip to Michael's on New Year's Day...