Bloody Pity Party

I like to write about about my meaningless everyday experiences. Like, how I got my blood drawn during my lunch break today:

I get there at 11:45, I had an appointment at 12:00 noon. They didnt take me until 12:15, so I'm annoyed. My Phlebotomist, Allison, was the only staff member over the lunch hour which meant she single-handedly had to do the sticking, checking-in, and the phone answering.

Fortunately, her husband called her and the volume was all the way up so I got to hear him giving her the sexy sexy talk while she prepared my paperwork. She kept giggling and looking at me, and finally says "Baby, I hate to say it like this but I'm about to stick a needle into some lady's arm so can I call you back in a little bit? Yeah, I know - its gross. I'll talk to you soon, I love youuuu... k, bye."

I wanted to punch her, but she had already tied off my punchin' arm and it was rendered Limp Noodle.

She hung up the phone and said "that was mah hunny, sorry bout that. He doesnt understand why I dont call him, but I keep tellin' him I have a job and even though its pretty mindless work, I cant talk all the time."

It was at this point that I started paying attention to make sure she was matching up the right bar codes with the right tubes.

She then comes over with 6 tubes and says that she usually gives people the option of which arm they want to use, but since I needed to have so much drawn, she'd need to draw from my "writin' arm", as the veins were stronger and less likely to collapse. I reminded her that it was already tied off, and getting blue, so she should get to it. She gets started and about 3 tubes into it she said "you're my #2 record for number of tubes". My all time high was 20. TWENTY tubes!" I just looked at her and made a fist. She told me to stay still.

Allison's next statement of brilliance was "Oh God, look at your hand! Haha! Your fingertips are black!" I looked at them (I hadn't looked to my right the whole time) and caught a glimpse of the blood flowing out of my arm and into the 5th tube. I felt my neck catching up to my arm, in terms of Limp Noodle.

As Allison finished up the 6th and removed the "stick", it happened. I started to get really hot. Then I started to sweat and I couldnt hear anything. I slouched forward into the padding, and told her "I... feeling a little... uhhh. Allison, I d'feel good." She froze and was asked "would you like a moist towel for your neck?" A. I wanted to hit her (for the third time) for choosing the word "moist" during my crucial moment. B. What is this, AirTran? I said uh-huh. But by the time she got back I guess I had already passed out. I woke up with my teeth gnawling into my left hand and Allison moist-towelling my neck. I was sweating like some sort of farm animal, so I took the towel from her and mopped up my mess.

Then she waited for me to come around, and led me to the "lay down room" to recover. The Lay Down Room was in full view of the waiting area, so I got to feel like a total ass while all 20 senior citizens who were waiting to be led to slaughter craned their wrinkley selves to watch me stumble down the hall and flop onto the brown vinyl slab with a dingey-ass pillow. (Maybe this really was AirTran?) She said "this is a daily occurence for us so dont you worry!"

So reassuring!

This is a great kickoff to the beginnings of my medical proactivity!

Oh, Allison. Thank you for being my own personal Vampire on Halloween.

stream of consciousness(2)

Today at work is so deathly quiet, I am taking my 15 minute break (which I rarely do) to jot down a few thoughts running through my brain. SO prepare for lack of theme, organization or creativity in what you're about to read...

There's so much going on and everything seems medical or financial - the two categories I despise most wholeheartedly. I've been catching up on some much needed and ignored doctors visits, getting the dreaded ones out of the way. Now there are a zillion follow-ups I have to do. Blood work for normal crap, blood work for my surgery, physicals, ultrasounds, prescriptions, choosing what antibiotic and pain pills I need (isn't that the doctor's job?!)...

The list goes on and becomes more awkard, so I'll stop there. I'm starting to think that my boss may suspect I'm lying about 'doctors appointments', because I've had so many. Eep. I'm not, I swear it.

My car inspection is coming up and a rough estimate of "probably wont pass" items comes to about $2,0o0. Supah. I have about $250 saved. I'm about 10% of the way there, and have 30 days left.

Good news! My new neighbor, Sean, allowed one of his friends to borrow his truck on Tuesday night. That friend apparently got drunk, and came home wasted; slamming through my front porch and into the back of my Beastie trying to get into his parking spot. Observe:


The damage doesn't look all that terrible, but the total estimate I got yesterday is $998. Yowch. I do feel a little bad, especially since Sean is being cool about it all, and not leaving his insurance information in my mailbox this morning like he said he would. I even made him a folder with the estimates, all clearly divided and labeled with post-it's. I put it in a red folder, because red usually means power, and I want him to know I mean business. Red also makes you hungry, so maybe he'll eat the estimate instead of reading it.

Digging back a little further, I had a great birthday. I didn't get to go to Frightened Rabbit, but its cool. Everything else made up for it. I got all my hair cut off (it took 4 hours and a $26 parking ticket - poop - which i still need to pay...) but you probably already saw or know. I LOVE it. I don't know if everyone is lying, but 95% of the feedback I've gotten on it is positive. Observe:

Being 27 isn't all it's cracked up to be, though. I realized this morning that I have Tennis Elbow/Shoulder from how I steer my car with my left arm, and hold my coffee with my right while I navigate the twists and turns of the Kennett Square Parking Garage. Super pathetic.

Speaking of the Kennett Square Parking Garage, you know how birds fly into glass because they either dont see it, or they're attacking their own likeness because they see it as a threat? Yeah, there was a squashed pigeon on the sidewalk a few weeks ago as I was heading home, a casualty of transparency I'll assume. After I got to the 4th floor, I about peed myself when I discovered the scene of the incident:

Eat that, National Geographic

I guess it's sad, but I ain't no hippie, and I laughed really hard at this, by myself, for about 10 solid minutes. I hope KSqPD picked that up on their video cameras.

I've been going to Philly way too much lately

Can I tell you HOW excited I am? I finally get to see Dan Deacon, live.

Check him out, if you're not familliar: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5oGMR9irekY

I found the show yesterday and got tickets today. Check out what the website says about this neato-night:

Dan Deacon's Round Robin Tour :

THURSDAY OCTOBER 16TH 7:30PM - FEET NIGHT

• Dan Deacon
• The Deathset
• AdventureVideo
• Hippos
• Future Island
• Nuclean Power
• Pants
• DJ Dog Dick
• Blood Baby
• Height
• Cex
• Smartgrowth
• Double Dagger

Okay this is going to be CRAZY. At each show, all of the night's bands will set up their gear simultaneously "along the perimeter of the room, with the audience in the center." Then the round robin part begins, as each band rolls through one song, then passes the spotlight to the next band with nary a moment's break in between. By the end of it, in exchange for a sore neck, you'll be intimately familiar with the musical goods Baltimore has to offer. There will be two full rounds per night, each band will play a few songs in each round. There will be a brief 'intermission' between rounds during which various performance/comedy episodes will take place. This will happen on both nights.

You should try to make it too, if you can. Its gonna be wild. Work-night-wild. :)

Help!

I normally wouldn't be taking a poll in order to change my personal appearance. You know how I am, I am good with anything... I'm not worried about looking stupid, but I DO want to feel attractive apres la coupe.  

The general feedback I've received upon telling people I plan to cut my hair super short again has been less than favorable. And that kind of makes me sad.

I was going to do something similar to this, longer in front of my ears, and a cute little tail (for lack of a better descriptor) in the back:

I would like to hear your thoughts. Yay or Nay? I'm making an appointment at a place in the city on my birfday, so help me out and let me know soon.

Love,

Jojus Christ

Hot Chip Makes My Heart Flip

Was hands-down, the best show I've ever been to.

(Sorry, my audio quality is rubbish, but you get the idea.)

It was great, Teets drove us into the city. My BA (Bridge Anxiety) is much more manageable when I'm not at the helm. We got upstairs to the adult area @ the Troc, parked our sweet tushes in a primo front balcony spot. Every time I blinked a new drink appeared. It was like the city turned me into some sort of magical genie, unaware of her own powers. (Or those of her loving & doting best friend.)

Before I knew it, the opening "band" (I never know what to call them when they're non-traditional/electronic musicians. Act? Group? Troop? I sound like I'm 80 when I use any of those words. Suggestions are welcome.) finished and I was chair dancing like a maniac and drooling for Alexis Taylor. Wrestlers came on near the end of the night, and I simultaneously shot my feet out, squeeled and urinated a tiny bit. I've never been so excited to hear one song.

Magical Genie Powers led to this

By the encore, I drug Teets downstairs so he could get the "crowd experience". Surrounding ourselves by sweaty, likely-drug-induced wonderfulness and feeling the power of 5 men and their magical mixings. Ah man. So good.

The Hot Chip show also marked the kick-off to Phase One of Celebration du Joj'. The 2 and a half week long celebration of my life. I'm starting to accept October and the colder weather, partially because I am so distracted by the awesomeness of the people around me.

__

In strange and unsettling news, my grandmother had a heart attack on Friday. She's doing ok, I went to visit her in the hospital yesterday and had hand sanitizer all over my face by the time I left.

Yesterday my mom told me that Mommom (my grandmother) was prepping for a cardio catheterization procedure (which is where they put a tube inside the large artery in your leg, it travels up into your heart and they're able to scrape out the plaque. Gag!) requested that I be the person who makes the decision to "pull the plug" when the time comes, if she should ever be on life support. I guess she was nervous, thinking something may go wrong. She made the comment that her son, my uncle, would never pull the plug. And also said that my mother, her daughter, would only give her a day or two before turning off the lights. B-r-utal!

Everyone I've told about this is like "Oh God! That's awful.". You know what though? I am kind of touched she'd pick me. Put everything aside you know about me having a fascination with disturbia, this is completely different. And serious. There's a woman who is choosing me, her grand daughter with black hair and a tattoo, over her own son and daughter, brothers and sisters, to make a decision so monumental. Someone thinks I'm that wise, and that much of a good decision maker? Wow. Of course I hope it never ever comes to that, and I dont like thinking about it - still, I'm really... honred.

Point-being: I now have a power complex, and am taking applications to be your life-keeper. I mean, if you want. I've got experience :)

Rain, Sleet or Snow

This is how dedicated I am to my job, even when a fire alarm has been going off for 15 minutes:

Ladies and Gents, EarNaps.

I ignore possible death, and continue to work. I think I deserve a raise.

Double-O-Braindead

I've been lazing about all day, mostly because I have nothing else to do.  Partially because I can, and partially because I have to go back to the office tomorrow and I'm in mental protest.  The biggest thing I had done before 4pm was going to see Burn After Reading (Fantastic, by the way.  Highly recommended if you like profanity as much as I do.)

So about an hour ago, No Country For Old Men was over (I'm on a Coen Bro's mission, it seems.  And yes, I paid attention the whole way through this time!) and I thought maybe I should put in at least 15 minutes of work so my day didnt feel like a complete waste.  Trash goes out on Sunday nights, and my neighbors upstairs only drug their dumpster thing to the roadside.  (Even though I always take theirs out for them.  I'm so glad they're leaving.)

I must have left my brain on the couch.  On my way out to the trash cans, I did the ol' flick of the wrist which leads to my door handle being locked.  Its habit.  Not a bad habit, but an annoying one when you don't plan on getting in the car and driving away.  I trotted my happy self over to the garbage area, and plopped my kitchen trash inside, and proceeded to drag my can, and the two remaining cans for apartments 3 & 4 to the roadside.  Then the recycling buckets.  Someone put loose paper in the recycling buckets.  The recycling instructions clearly state that paper has to be bundled.  AND its raining, so after the truck comes tomorrow and does not take the paper, it'll be left in there, soggy and stuck to the bottom of the bucket like some sort of hobo paper-mache art project...  It's probably apartment 2.  I'll assume they never learned to read.  Neither one of them.

At this point, I'm slightly annoyed and have trashy wet hands, and the bleak remaining daylight is starting to cause a headache.  I scuttled like a cockroach across the gravel, ready to retire to my dimly-lit and neutral smelling home, wash my hands and plop back on the couch.  

Click.  ...Click click click click!  The sound of me turning my door handle and me realizing its locked, and that I am keyless, but thinking that added attempts will alter reality.  Clearly, I'm no clairvoyant or magician, and the door was definitely locked.  

Years of watching MacGyver and playing "The Worst Case Scenario Survival Game" flashed before my eyes.  Unfortunately, I didnt have any duct tape, or a potato, or a bright yellow cue card with multiple choice answers.  What I did have was two rained-upon flimsy plastic cafe' chairs I got for like $5 each, and a new pair of Sauconys on my feets.  Bad news:  I'm wearing a skirt.  More bad news?  In addition to that skirt, I'm wearing a hoodie.  And of course, my brand new Sauconys.  Thats it.  Thats it.  Ahem.  

I wondered if the people driving by would think I was trying to break into my own apartment and call the policia on me?  I'm praying for Bystander Syndrome and an unlocked window as I walk to check the lowest frame on my house.  SWEET merciful Baby Jesus, the window behind my TV was unlocked.  I hoisted the screen, the sill, and fumbled for the cord for the blinds to open them.  God forbit I muss the blinds.  OK, so the scene is set, now I just have to get in. Chair in place, I gingerly mount it.  It wobbles.  I regret having eaten the whole thing of Tabouleh last night, but damn was it good.  Left leg up-and-in, I nearly take out my sophisticated audio system that consists of a powerstrip and two hand-me-down speakers, but I make it!  Some man in an Astro Van probably got to see some things he normally has to pay for, but whatever.  I am maverick and accomplished!

I guess I felt so good about what I had just done, and was on an adrenaline high, that I exited through my front door and went outside, back to the window to close it and close the screen.  I didnt realize how idiotic that was until I had finished doing it, and then I felt extremely sorry for my own mental state.  

I couldn't help but laugh.  I am really ready to hit the couch at this point, so I chuckle and go in, I FINALLY get to wash my hands.  I turn and see that my air conditioning units need to come out.  It is late September, afterall.  I figure I'm already up, and already messy from hoisting myself through the window, I might as well get it over with.  First comes removing the 2x4's supporting the units, from the outside...  Three windows away from the one where I just put on that fantastic act of independent woman.  

Out I go.  Locking the door behind me.  Again.  

Thank heavens I was so much of an idiot and went outside to close my window after the first episode, otherwise I would have locked it.  

My stars!  The AC units are taken care of, and the trash is all set for pickup in the morning.  I am FINALLY back on the couch, and couldn't wait to tell you all about my absent-mindedness.  As if you needed more ammo. 

So, the moral of the story is:  Think twice about necessary cast members of your wardrobe when you get dressed in the morning.  Even if it is the weekend.