Why it stinks to have no homework:

I never thought I would be saying (typing, I suppose) those words. It's true, I was ecstatic at first, seeing my homework load drop off like a politician's popularity after a sex scandal. But then I began to understand the reason why it was happening. And the undercurrent was ugly; very ugly, indeed.

The AP exams were coming.

Are coming.

Soon.

There's no way to describe my dread. I'm guessing, though, that most of the people who read this blog understand. We have been told time and time again, "Study and prepare for these tests. They could get you college credit. They could put you ahead of other college freshman in your class." Now, let's reword that to what we hear: "If you don't study and prepare for these tests, you won't get college credit. You will be put behind the rest of the freshman in college so that you can never catch up. You will get a third-rate job and be poor and unhappy for the rest of your life." It's kind of a downer. And enough to scare us silly. But just how legit are AP tests?

According to that article, although they have been growing in popularity, AP tests don't necessarily prepare students for the tougher college curriculum. And a lot of colleges are rethinking whether they should allow AP test scores to count as a class credit. They think the test is no longer an accurate measure of college preparation because so many high school students are now taking the test (with so many, it's more difficult to gage ability correctly). If they're no longer valid, they're no longer worth looking at.

Let me be translator again for you- the article seems to say that taking these classes are a joke. You thought you were bettering yourself with those extra hours of homework and hair-pulling tests. You thought the extra effort was worth it. But the article makes it seem that all you've really been doing is running in circles, preparing for a test that could, potentially, not matter or help you get a head start. What a blow.

I can't even imagine that these classes haven't been helping me for college. I have had to work so much harder, actually read the textbooks, form study groups to review for tests, and complete a crap-load of homework. Yes, it probably is true that if you don't put in the time and energy, then an AP course will not prepare you for college. But what about those that do work? Or would they simply have been ready for college without taking the class?

I also have to keep in mind, just what are they measuring in this article? What classes? Perhaps the problem is that some teachers don't know HOW to teach an AP class. Not to blame it all on the teachers, because of course it is the students' decision to work. But what if our school didn't put as much emphasis on AP testing? Would our teachers be as prepared? Would they know how to best prepare their students for the tests in May? I would bet there are many schools out there where the teachers don't have the funds to learn how to properly prepare their kids for the exams. So yes, there may be certain classes that don't prepare students for college (and students themselves who refuse to work at it themselves), but there are just as many high schools that can prepare you.

And honestly, so what if you aren't completely prepared for college? A slight schock to the system never hurt anybody (and really, do you really want more of the same when you get there?). Even if it may not be the best preparation for a college course, it teaches responsibility and the ability to take control over your own education. And you get the chance to be with kids that want to be there and teachers that want to teach you. So don't feel too put out if you're in AP- they're still worth something.

That still doesn't make me like the fact that I don't have homework.

Girl Scout Cookies

Yes, I am aware that the Girl Scout cookie-selling season has long gone by. But because of the whole Lent and giving up sweets thing, I couldn't eat them when they first came to my door months ago.

Doorbell rings. I go to answer it.

Girl Scout: Hi, here are the cookies you ordered.
Me: Oh, thank you! (Secretly I thought, sweets! sugar! SWEETS!)

I take the cookies and start to shut the door.

Girl Scout: Umm...you still have to pay for those.
Me: Oh, ok. (What? You bring these things to my door and now I have to pay to get them?)

That was a lame story. Back on track, after Easter I was finally able to dig in. I had my first Caramel Delight ever and loved it- I had always been afraid of the coconut. It's not my favorite food, but it turned out to taste pretty good with everything else. I'm still a huge thin mint fan, though.

I know I made fun of the Girl Scout in the above mini-story, but I really have nothing against them. I too was one of the little girls that rang door and said, "Hi, I'm a first grader from Pierce Elementary. Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?" Door to door, person to person I went. I was not one of those kids who handed the order form to my parents to take to work. I had tried, but they handed it back and said, "You have to do this yourself" (by myself doesn't mean make me go out by myself- they came along, for all of you out there concerned about my youthful safety). Needless to say, it was a tough task.

Be nice to the Girl Scouts. Buy a box. If you think that just because you don't answer the door when they ring the doorbell they will think you aren't there, you're fooling yourself. I always knew. I could hear the tv blaring, the attempted-quiet footsteps. And what's up with saying, "No, I don't want to buy a box of your cookies"? Would it kill you to give up $4 to a cute little kid (well, I'm assuming most that most small children are cute)? I remember the people that didn't come to the door and the ones that said no. One of the families that never bought from me actually had their little girl come to our door, asking if we wanted to buy some Girl Scout cookies. We did, but I watched the parents out the window, hoping they were ashamed of themselves.

Moral of the story? Be a nice person. Buy one box from the girls. You might even find that the cookies taste pretty good.

I Believe....

• Talking to the computer does make it go faster
• That everyone has a twin (not biologically; just a look-alike) somewhere in the world
  
• In God
• Spiders, snakes, and creepy-crawlies are gross
• I will never need to understand natural logs, e, or sinusoids when I grow up
• In life
• In the power of a good nap
  
• Every spell of happiness will pass
• Every spell of sadness will pass
• You can do almost anything you want to if you try (I said almost to get rid of those, "Well what if I want to be a cat? I can't do that just by wanting it," type of comments)
  
• People that say nuke-yuh-ler (as opposed to nu-klee-er) need to be informed
• Chocolate beats vanilla. Every time.
• Mint chocolate chip beats chocolate. Every time.
• Cake beats pie. Every time.
  
• Saying, "It went pretty well" is better than, "It went pretty good"
• A world without music would be a world without life
• Science and religion can coexist peacefully
• Jeans match any type of shirt
• Leather pants don't match anything
  
• In El Cabrito (placed on this list at his suggestion)
  
• That we are all watched over
• Talking face to face is better than email, texting, or other technology-based communication
• Getting a hand-written letter in the mail is exciting (they cared enough to sit down, write you, figure out your address, and pay 42 cents)
• Outlets and power cords should be one-size-fits-all
• Temper-tantrums by small children are annoying; tantrums by adults is ridiculous (please go figure out your problems where I don't have to watch you hit and throw things)
• There is power in prayer
• There is such a thing as luck
• "Bad luck" is an overused term- some people simply got what they deserved
• Most personal problems are all in your head (easier to say than to actually comprehend and apply)
• Eye contact is the best way to let someone know you are listening
• Swearing has its place in the world, but it often oversteps its boundaries
• Fast food has its place in the world, but it often oversteps its boundaries
  
• Success=Happiness
• Failure=Unhappiness
• The Chiefs will one day win the Super Bowl
• Whoever invented the lint roller needs to be thanked multiple times
• Musicals make some of the best, most ridiculous movies
• Peace in the world isn't possible, but it's a good goal
• Old movies are the bomb (yes I said 'the bomb')
• Books are beautiful
• Computer programming is impossible; anyone that can do it is my hero
  
• Family and friends are essential to happiness
• True love exists, but we are often too impatient to find it
• There are things beyond human perception and understanding that occur in our world (and beyond); things that we will never comprehend. And that's okay.
• Everyone is self-centered (like this post)
  
• That this list may be completely wrong and off. But that's why it's titled "I Believe."
  

Healthy People 2010

Suprisingly, I am having a difficult time coming up with a topic to blog about. So I'm taking Embroz's advise and trying a random post.

Instructions:

1. Go to Wikipedia


2. Click on the Random Page link


3. Click through ten random hyperlinks


4. Write about the article you land on

I started with some complicated physics theory, found my way to the Social Security article that warned, "This article may be too long to comfortably read and navigate," and ended up on "Healthy People 2010." How exciting!

First off, what is it? According to Wikipedia (yes, I know, it's not that credible. But this isn't a research paper and if you don't believe me, there are plenty of other sites out there for you to double check), it is a plan started by the US Department of Health and Human Resources in 2000. 2000? That's kind of embarassing that I haven't heard a ton about it. It's goal? You are so smart! To make Americans healthier by 2010.

The thing is common sense- their concerns consist of obesity, substance abuse, mental health, immunization, and a healthy environment to live in. Well, duh, of course those would be great to improve and eliminate those problems! But I guess it's not as easy to actually follow through than just to lay them out there. So bravo for trying to do something, I suppose. And you know what? Healthy People 2020 is scheduled to come out sometime next year. More healthy humans!

And if I write anymore, this post will officially become lame (defined by WordNet as "pathetically lacking in force or effectiveness"). Well, that last sentence was kind of lame. But I put a cute little baby surrounded by healthy food in my post, so that offsets it. Sort of.

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For all of the "I'm Gonna Beat You's" of the world

A small note of advice: Telling me that you're going to beat me is not a good way to start a friendship. Or keep one.

Now I must clarify, there are many times when I say "I'm going to kick your butt," "I'm going to beat you at [insert selected item]," and other such phrases when it's FRIENDLY. Likewise, there are people that tell me the same thing and I don't mind. It's a joke, and whoever wins doesn't really matter. If I beat you at checkers, I would hope that no ones feelings would get hurt. If someone scores higher than me on a test, I won't go crouch in a corner and suck my thumb.

But when it's over something of real rank and constant competition (like a chair in band, a place in show choir, a place on a varsity sports team, a job), it's not funny. "I'm going to beat you someday," is said with an undertone of menace and jealousy. And really, what am I supposed to say? "Oh, no, my dear friend. You suck and will never surpass my awesome talents"? "Yes, you will beat me someday and I am so looking forward to the opportunity to hand over my place of honor so that you can feel a little bit better about yourself"? It's annoying. It's stupid.

So don't tell people you are going to beat them. Trying to psych them out isn't nice. Beat them with your talents. Show them, and quit being an ass. What grade are we in, people. Really?

Ok that was very rant-like. Happy note time; it's the Xylopholks!

There is nothing to blog about

Nevertheless, I am going to blog, anyway. About what? About everything I see in my room right now.

• The keyboard of this computer needs to be dusted.
• I have an LA skit from last year still pinned up by the computer. It was fun to make- a present-day Of Mice and Men play. My friend and I had Lynette (Lenny) and Georgiana (George) move to a new school (town) and dream about opening their own tea shop (owning their own farm). Sound ridiculous? It was, but that's what made it so fun.
• The Norton pop-ups that constantly come up when I'm blogging drive me nuts.
• Ooh, there's a library book over on the couch that I really need to return. I wonder if they will arrest me like that one lady if I don't return it soon.
  
• There are a lot of random papers by the computer-- rough drafts of papers from first term, instructions for computer programs, assignment requirements, used Post-it notes-- that should really be recycled. Maybe I'll do that.......when school's over.
• We keep our pencils by the computer in a TGI Friday's kiddie cup from at least ten years ago.
• The stapler needs staples.
• We have a Kansas City Chiefs mouse pad that has its edges pretty roughed up (our keyboard is on one of those shelves that can roll out and in, so when we roll it in sometimes the mouse pad gets too close to the edge and gets caught and mangled. I know you wanted to know that).
  
• Why is it cold in our basement? I want to go grab my precious Honeywell space heater, but I'm too lazy and it seems wrong considering that it's spring. If I'm going to use it at all now, it would have to be used as a fan.
• I lied, it turns out I'm not too lazy; I put the heater on. So sue me.
• I just found a schedule that I have been searching for for about a week.
• There are some tax documents by the computer. I really hope that they weren't required for the April 15th deadline....
  
• It's getting late. This post is not interesting. I'm sorry.
  

"Pony (It's OK)" by Erin McCarley

I got it when it was a freebie off of iTunes. It wouldn't be on here if I didn't like it, now would it?

Waiting Rooms

They are so awkward. Everyone sits around, waiting. No one talks to each other. When someone new sits down, the entire room watches thinking, "I wonder why they're here." And what are you supposed to do while you are waiting? You cannot simply sit there doing nothing, because then the whole room will be convinced you are an idiot (who is unable to read), a creeper (as you watch other people), or mentally ill (if you stare at a wall, trying to avoid looking like a creeper). So, to avoid being labeled as idiot-creeper-mentally-ill, you casually pick up a magazine and pretend to be interested. Perhaps you really do care about what Fishing Monthly and Women's Weekly have to say. But I know that when I pick one up, I'm focused on feigning just enough interest for people to ignore and not talk to me. I flip the page at appropriate time intervals, waiting for my name to be called so I can get up and escape as fast as I can.

But really, who made it a rule that waiting rooms were to be so socially-awkward? I have never been to one where the people are cracking jokes, making conversation, and enjoying themselves. It just doesn't happen. I know, I know, it's probably because this is the only time some people get to be quiet and alone, and they just want to sit and enjoy the moment. For the rest of us, the situation is too weird to enjoy.

So on Wednesday of this week I had to go have a meeting with someone at my new workplace. And what did I have to do? You are such a fabulous guesser: wait in a waiting room. But this room wasn't even worthy of being called a 'waiting room.' For one thing, it wasn't even a room; it was a hallway with two chairs and a table carelessly assembled to one side. Secondly, there was NOTHING TO DO. No magazines. No pictures. Nothing except for a worn out directory of contact numbers for workers in the building.

To make matters worse, my appointment time was at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Do you know how many people decide to leave work at that time? A lot. So there I was, being stared at by every person that passed by. At first I tried to look at my shoes and ignore all eye contact. Later, I gave up and gave them a weak smile. After I had been sitting for about ten minutes, each person got a full-blown "Hi!" There was nothing else for me to do, and let's just say I got desperate. I tried to avoid my idiot-creeper-mentally-ill look, but I don't know how well that one turned out.

Oh, and did I mention the security guards? The first one was nice, offering to call the man I was supposed to meet with. And after sitting there for twenty minutes with no answer, he finally decided to take me by the guy's office, to find out that my appointment-man had been waiting for me and just decided not to answer his phone (he only listens to voicemail, I guess). So that's a great first impression on my part. Anyway, right before I wandered around the building with guard #1, guard #2 came to take his place. And he wasn't like that nice old security guard I talked about in this post. Oh no. You know those people that just give you the creeps? That make you want to grab a taser or your rape whistle? Well, he was one of those. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid," I thought to myself. I mean, you have to give people the benefit of the doubt, right? I did, but it didn't last long. When I got out of my appointment and was driving home with my mom, I come to find out he had offered to take me home if my mom couldn't . Him. Drive. Me. To. My. House. Even if you were trying to be nice, that's just weird.

Needless to say, I would rather have a waiting room with a bunch of boring magazines and unsocial people than one with an icky security guard. Or just no waiting room at all. That's cool too.

Pull Through, Little Man

The boy got rejected, cut him some slack.

Today I Got Asked to Prom

Never mind that I was halfway down the hallway when they asked, or that the only reason they knew my name was because it was on the back of my sweatshirt. I think it was pretty legit.

293 Words

I need to fill this post with that many words. And there's nothing worth talking about today.

Yesterday I went to an all-day tennis tournament (went to school at 7am, got home at 6pm). I got sunburned, exhausted, and had a fabulous time. I won all of my games, we got second overall as a team. But I don't want to talk about it anymore. It was fun, but putting it down on paper doesn't seem to be doing it any justice.

After I got home, I went to Easter Vigil mass at 8. It lasted for two and a half hours, and is my all-time favorite service. We start outside standing around a fire, then process into a church without lights (except for the candles held by some of the congregation); the readings are the same every year, with the same soloists singing the same parts of the mass; candidates for baptism actually get to step into the baptismal font. Again, it is something that cannot be appreciated in words.

I'm sorry, this post is getting rather pathetic, now isn't it?

A Happy Easter to everybody today! Hope nobody had to work too hard, to too much homework, etc. Not sure what to do with your day? Go color some eggs, or have an Easter egg hunt, or eat some candy, or spend time with family. Those are my top suggestions for you.

I still have sixty words to go.

I googled Roxanne Betta to see if my blog would pop up. It did, but there was also this other site under mine about another girl named Roxanne Betta. I clicked on it and got this. At first I thought, "What are the odds that another girl would have the same name as me? Oh my gosh!" And just when I was getting excited, I realized that 'betta' was a slang for 'better' as in, "its roxanne betta known as... roxxy." And I had let myself get so excited. Oh well, I guess I don't really want people to think I was her. We're not really that similar.

Word Count: Completed

Because my last post was so long....

I'll make it up to you! Not saying that last one was boring, oh no. But your brain and eyes may be exhausted from such dedicated reading of my blog. So here's a song that recently found and I like I got from my sister, but El Cabrito happened to have it on his iPod too (though he doesn't know how it got there). What are the odds of it being in two places? I took it as a sign to share it with you guys. Here's Franz Ferdinand's 'Take Me Out.'

Roxanne, Dead Body. Dead Body, Roxanne.

Yesterday was my fifth time ever seeing a dead body. It was the first time that it was not for a funeral. I went with a group of students to a cadaver viewing at a nearby college. Not going to lie- I was kind of nervous. I had been excited for the entire week, but as the date grew closer, I began to wonder: Would I find it disturbing? How old would the person....body....be? Would I pass out? I didn't know. I mean, this had been an actual human being. And I understand they donated their body to science willingly, but I find it weird to think they used to breathe, talk, laugh, love, and have a family.

We got there, and who did I discover was our guide? Why, the super-cool brain lady who had talked to our biology class earlier this year! Not only was she super-funny, but she knew what she was talking about. And she warned us properly before we got into the room: "Now, there's a certain......disturbance factor that occurs when people first see a cadaver. You tend to stiffen up and lock your knees. And what happens then? All the blood goes to your feet. So if I see any of you being statues, I'm going to make you move around or do a dance!" She proceeded to dance.

We went in and she pulled back the moist towels covering the body (the cadaver must be kept wet to remain preserved). Honestly? It wasn't too bad. The room had its own ventilation system that circulated the air constantly, keeping the possible stench down. Thankfully, the face of the body was covered, relieving us of the discomfort of feeling a more human connection. Plus, it turned out that the body was of a 95 year old male- so no sadness about a life cut short.

The brain lady took off the sternum, revealing the inner cavity of the body. But something seemed to be missing in the upper region. "Oh! The heart and lungs aren't in here right now because they dry out so quickly. Let's see, where did I put them.....?" She rummaged around the room (I mean, they're so easy to misplace), finally locating the organs and placing them in the chest so we could see what a complete body looked like. We looked at the organs, with the heart in particular. It turned out that for this man, his heart was enlarged to try to compensate for weaker pumps, probably due to old age. She also told us that he had had bypass surgery and showed us the leg artery that they had removed and placed on the heart to redirect blood. How did they get to his heart? He had staples in his sternum where they had cut him open.

After that, we got to put on gloves ourselves and "explore."
Heart: cut in half so we could see inside
Lungs: very spongy and squishy
Liver: big
Gallbladder: green (I guess because of the bile it makes and holds)
Kidney: smaller than I thought (a little smaller than the size of my fist)
Aorta: SO long! I thought this main artery only came out of the heart for a few inches. Who knew it was about a foot long?
Brain and spinal cord: These were cut out, and they were so cool
Small and large intestine: Actually, they looked a lot like they do in the textbooks

There's more, yes, but I don't want to bore you. I did feel a little light-headed at times, but I didn't know if that was because of the body or just the temperature of the room (with ten people in there it got a little toasty). We asked the brain lady if it was uncomfortable for her to deal with so many cadavers. She said, "Not really. I like to think of this as their last wish, and if this is what they wanted then we should learn as much as we can." It was a good perspective.

Did the day make me want to go into a career with cadavers (like medical, etc.)? I don't think so. Despite her enthusiasm, I don't think I could handle death so eloquently as the brain lady. Seeing corpses day after day would not make me the person I want to be, but I would like to do another tour or something like it in the future. In a way, seeing death puts your life in perspective for you (that didn't sound cliche or anything). And would I donate my body to science? To have people pick it apart and stare at my liver? I remain undecided, but it doesn't sound like such a bad idea. Give me a few years to think about that one.

Want to donate your body to science? Visit a local university to receive a registration packet.

"Spaceman" by the Killers

Well, his outfit's a little weird, but that doesn't stop me from liking this song.

The Return of the Writer's Block

I knew it wouldn't leave me forever. Unfortunately for me, this means I can't think of anything to tell you about (coherently, at least). Unfortunately for you, you have to put up with it. But really, I won't be offended if you choose not to read anymore of this, because it will be rather random.

I went to church today at 9am to help set up for a Confirmation retreat that I would be helping out with until 5. I didn't know what to expect, but lately I have really enjoyed church and decided that volunteering would do me some good. After all of the team leaders met and got a brief rundown of the day, we headed over from the hall we were set up in to the actual church. And oh my God, there were so many people there for Palm Sunday (the week before Easter). I couldn't believe my eyes- there wasn't even enough room for everybody to sit down. Very cool.

The retreat? Well, it was what I expected in that the kids (mostly about freshman age) weren't that enthused. And I have to admit, I was the same way when I was getting confirmed. But sitting there, learning the lessons again, made me appreciate it so much more. I even got to give a brief, random, totally unprepared talk about faith in my life. It was pretty bad, but it was honest- I hope the candidates took at least something positive from it.

Why do some people so readily try to disprove religion? Is it such a horrible thing to believe in something? In someone? Why is it always "there's no proof God exists" and not, "there's no proof God doesn't exist"? I understand that there is the want for things to be 'scientifically proven,' but it must also be understood that for some, such proof is not necessary. And there is nothing wrong with either route of thought. For Pete's sake, yes, challenge each others' ideas; it is a good way to strengthen your own. But at the end of the day, accept that people will think what they want to. And that is okay.

Security Clearance

It should not be this difficult. That's all I can say.

Dear God

Here I am, at the All-City Music Contest. I managed to sneak away to the computer lab to do something productive with my time while I sit and wait for my last group to go.

There was too much to do today:

Brass Quintet: meh

Horn Quartet: oh my (the bad type of 'oh my')

Horn Duet: not too shabby

Horn Solo: AHHHHH!! Let's just say I never came in and we'll call it even, okay, judge?

Brass Choir: TBA, but probably boring.

It's boring just talking about these things. I'm going to stop now before I put any of you to sleep. But I just wanted YOU, my precious readers, to know that I was thinking of YOU while I was here in this mini musical hell.

The Security Guard and the Engineer

Yesterday afternoon I was sitting in the lobby of an office building, waiting for the woman I was supposed to talk to. An old man sat at the security desk, his blue uniform pressed and comb-over hair perfectly in position. He looked at me with a kind smile and said, "Would you like me to call her for you?" I said yes, and he did. We then sat in silence.

It was around 5:00; the time when many engineers decide to call it quits for the day. Each murmured a "Have a nice night" or a "Take it easy" to the old man as they left. He told them to do the same.

Then, an older woman walked in. Her black hair was obviously dyed, and she her makeup was a bit excessive (with the thick mascara and pencilled-on eyebrows), but it suited her well. The security guard saw her and smiled.

"Are you headed out?" he asked

"Yeah, it's about that time." She glanced out the window at the rain. "Oh, drat! I thought it was going to be snowing out. Now I'm going to get all wet. But I might have an umbrella in here somewhere....." She began rummaging through her purse.

The old man laughed. After a few moments, the woman found her desired object. "Ah ha! Here it is!"

The guard grinned as he looked at it and said, "That's looks like a baby umbrella." It was one of those that can compressed, making it look very tiny. "But if it does the job, then why not, huh?"

The engineer woman laughed. "As long as it keeps my hair dry, I'm happy. See you tomorrow, alright?"

"Okay, you take care now." He watched the old woman as she left, a smile still on his face even after she was gone.

Now if that isn't cute, I don't know what is.

Stick Me!

Yeah, that's right. I saved three lives aka gave blood yesterday.

Was I nervous? That's up for interpretation. I went to the drive at my previously scheduled time at 8:15, filled out the necessary forms (no, I'm not being forced by the mafia to give blood; no, I haven't sold my services for money; no, I didn't travel to Africa and get AIDS), and got in line. I felt fine- perhaps a little anxious. But no hyperventilation, because I had given blood before.

Correction, I have tried. Over the summer my church had a blood drive, and so I went. Long story short, it was not a success. They poked one arm and got some blood, but then the flow stopped. They tried to make it go again by twisting and adjusting the needle in my arm, but no luck; they had to take it out. But I was a trooper! "Do you want us to try the other arm?" they asked. "Sure!" I replied. I had already been stuck once, why not twice? Still, same problem. But I thought they would still tell me my blood type, at least. But no; I left the drive without the warm feelings of giving back and with long bruises up and down my arms. Though I did get some cookies out of the deal.

Yesterday, I vowed for things to be different. I drank an ungodly amount of water the day before to pump up my veins and avoided sick people like they were the plague. But when the woman took my blood pressure, iron levels, and pulse rate, my pulse was too high. "Hmm..your pulse is a little high, so we'll just take it again when you go and sit down in your chair." My thoughts: 'WHAT?! No. My pulse cannot be too high. I HAVE to calm down right now or else I can't give blood. CALM DOWN!' Needless to say, that didn't help. I had to come back later to give it another go.

When I came back and got back in line, March of the Penguins was playing. The blood drive nurses told me that they had had too many high pulses that day. What better way to calm people down than watching waddling penguins with the narration of Morgan Freeman? And it worked- my pulse was under 100 beats per minute!

To finish briefly, they stuck me, said I had weird, squiggly veins, and that my flow was really slow. But it kept flowing! I managed to fill up the whole blood bag without passing out, ate a cookie (despite my Lenten resolution, but I didn't want to die or anything so decided God would understand), and went back to class.

Yay for giving blood! If you haven't YOU should give it a shot. Are you eligible? Check it out.