So, I was telling this story to my roomies, and they convinced me to write it for the rest of you to read.
I met this boy, we'll call him Mitch, at a singles activity up the canyon. We played ping-pong for quite awhile, exchanged phone numbers, and that was that. He called me a few days later, and we talked for awhile. He then proceeded to invite me to come donate blood at a blood drive that he was in charge of.
I was diligent that day--eating and drinking as one should if they are going to donate blood. It was nothing new, as I've donated blood several times. In college, ARUP used to call me to come donate because I have "baby blood," which apparently means I don't have an antibody to something, I can't remember. ANYWAY, so I this was not the first time I'd been pricked for a cause.
When I arrived, I filled out all the paperwork, chatted with Mitch, and waited. Then, they took my blood pressure and pulse. Blood pressure, check. It was fine. Pulse . . . well, this is where it gets interesting and a little bit funny. They said that I couldn't donate because my pulse was beating too fast. Yeah, it slowed down, but by then I was so embarrassed that I quickly took my stuff and left.
Moral of the story? Don't try to donate blood when talking with someone you potentially like. . .
Thursday, August 14, 2008
I love my new apartment and roomies! It's one of the best living situations that I've had in awhile, minus one element: my piano. Those of you who know me best, know that I love to play that darn piano. I love it so much, I've paid to move it, store it, and move it again. Okay, so some of you are thinking, "Wait a second! I helped move that darn piano!" Yes, and I love you for it. But, I had to pay for 2 trucks now to get it moved. ANYWAY, I like it a lot! So, back to my story. I miss not being able to play the piano. It helps me relieve my stress on a crazy day. So, three times so far since I've moved, I've taken some time to go down to the storage unit, opened the door, and played that piano. Yep, right there in the storage unit. It actually has beautiful acoustics! :) The trick is not too go too early because it's so hot! The early evening is the perfect time. I'm sure many people have wondered if they are just hearing things or what. So, now you know how big of a dork I really am. I'm sure when my parents were paying for piano lessons, they never thought the obsession would go this far. If only . . .
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
So, the other day, I was in the copy room--making copies nonetheless. I wanted to make some overhead transparencies for fluency. I had a stack of my master papers, and I put them in the copier. I opened the cupboard, looked at the box and read, "Plain Paper Copier Transparencies." I took a stack, put them in the copy machine. No sooner had I hit the "Copy" button then I reached down to take out my copies, when half of a transparency came out. Yeah, that's not supposed to happen. . . I quickly turned off the machine, opened it up, and there, wrapped around the heating element, was half of a melted transparency. Looking back through the box, I noticed that someone had put their "extras" into the box, mixing them in with the regular ones. I proceded to pull out little pieces with my fingers, burning the tips along the way. Finally, the machine cooled down enough to where it hardened, which might not have been a good thing. The remaining pieces hardened and got stuck. I had to call the office, tell them I broke the machine, and they called the repair person. Before he came, the lady from the office and I tried one more time, with her trusty tweezers, to free the pieces. No luck. Thankfully, he was just across the street and came right over and fixed it. Yes, he was upset. No, he didn't know my name. :) It was fixed so quick that nobody ever knew what happened, but I was sure worried! In fact, here it is a couple weeks later, and I still haven't attempted to make tranparencies. So, until enough time has passed and it's funny enough to talk about with the other teachers, we are just secretly referring to this as "a hot day in the copy room."