What Now

RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING

1) Had to go give blood to the lab vampires this morning. I do not enjoy needles, no sir. Actually, it wasn't that bad this time. They used the butterfly thingie and it didn't hurt much at all. The worst part was waiting to go in. I think I got there by 7:30 and didn't get to go in until after 8. They are usually not that slow, but it wasn't too bad. There were a couple of people in the waiting room who started complaining, but I just tuned them out after a while. I mean, what good does it do to complain about having to wait? It doesn't make the wait any shorter unless you piss someone off, and then they take it out on you in a painful, stabby way. Ugh. I don't want to piss off a phlebotomist . Heck, I'd bring them cookies if I thought it would make things go more smoothly.

2) Starting September 1st, I will be under contractual obligation to be nice about the place I work on all blogging and social networking sites. I will no longer be allowed to "disparage the organization, campers, their families, visitors or other employees." I will also have to curb my vulgar language and "be respectful in all communications and blogs relating to the SpRocket." I guess that means it's a free for all until September 1st! HELP! HELP! I'M BEING REPRESSED!

3) I spent Saturday evening at the American Cancer Society Summer Lights event. It was very posh. :) Steve's company bought a sponsor table and we were BIS (butts in seats) representatives for them. It was actually very enjoyable. Homer Hickam was there as one of the special guests, but once again I didn't get to say anything to him. Oh well, we have crossed paths before, and I'm sure we will again. We were there with Emily, Brandi and their spouses (hey, guys!) which is always a pleasure, and another couple who's name escapes me for the moment, but whom I also liked a lot. I promise. I'm just bad with names. While I was walking around, looking at all of the stuff for the silent auction, I saw our wedding photographer, who's husband died of the same kind of cancer that Steve's mom had. She said she didn't like to come to things like that, but someone had bought a table in his honor, so she felt she should be there. She was so sad that it made my heart hurt. I didn't really know what to say, but I told her I was glad to see her. I would have hugged her if I knew her better. She looked as if she needed a hug. :( Hugs help, even if they can't fix. After we parted ways I finished looking around at all of the stuff up for auction. It was too tempting to bid on stuff, even though I knew I wouldn't win anything. I was in a room full of people with money, and I figured that if nothing else, I'd drive up the prices on a couple of items! I'm glad I didn't do more than a couple, because apparently the ACS invited a lot of tightwads. A great deal of things got no bids at all and I actually won one of the items I bid on. It was a large bottle of Vodka 360, a kind of self-righteous, "eco-friendly," tree-hugger's alcohol. I've already gotten annoyed at their back patting just from reading the booklet that came with the package. I don't know what possessed me to bid on vodka, but I liked the bottle and package design. I'm kind of a sucker for good packaging. Anyways, now I have this big bottle of 80 proof fire water and I can't bring myself to drink it. I keep having flashbacks to New Years Day 2006, when I felt like I had spent the previous evening swallowing live matches and ipecac syrup. I'm not giving it away, though. I like the bottle too much. I've looked online at different things you can use vodka for other than drinking, and I think I'm going to try a few of them. If nothing else, I'm going to make my own vanilla extract, which sounds easy enough. Some of you may be getting a bottle of it if I do it right. :)

4) After the lab, I went to the Starbuck's drive through and got a frappacino and a scone. When I got to work, I looked up the calorie count so that I could enter it into my iPod program. I wish I hadn't checked. The drink wasn't that bad, considering, but the scone... Jeepers. I might as well have just gone ahead and taped it directly to my ass. Note to self: No more scones from Starbucks. Ever.