I'm a Hot Commodity, oh yeah

I gave blood the other day. Yay me. The American Red Cross comes to my work every 8 weeks. Its a good thing, right? The whole ritual is so funny though. I know they must ensure that they are getting most pristine blood out there, but really........I just gave blood in July and had I somehow had unprotected sexual relations with a Haitian, HIV positive, Hemophiliac, Drug Addict since then......really I think I'd know it, there is no need to ask me that question 5 different ways, tying to trick me into admitting it. Also, if that event had occurred, I think I'd have bigger issues going on and wouldn't necessarily be trying to pawn off my tainted blood. So I go through the whole Q & A thing, and pass with flying colors. Time to prick my finger to see if my iron level is ok to donate. Every time I get this done, they tell me I got the lowest number possible, so I can donate but if it were one thousandth of a point lower, I'd have gotten the big red flag. Now I know that since I have O negative blood, I'm a hot commodity, so I think that they see my iron number and just tell me that I skirted by just so they can have some of my precious blood. I'm surprised they don't suck it from both arms once they hear my blood type. OK, next is the blood pressure test. I normally have very low blood pressure......so the dude straps me up and starts pumping away at me (heehee)......then he releases a bit....pump me back up harder.....release a bit......pump me back up YET AGAIN.....he says "I'm not getting anything" so I said, "Dude, its really low, just be patient and please release my arm a little".......so finally he gets it.......and he looks at me in amazement and says, "yeah, it IS really low". I really think he thought I was dead - he checked my pulse 3 times after that.

OK, I'm all set, here is the part I just hate (but I do it every 8 weeks because its a good thing). Lying on the makeshift bed they put up in a conference room at work, in a room with other co-workers draining into bags. I can't look around, because I'm not crazy about the sight of blood, especially dripping out of people I see every day. So I seriously lie there stare at the ceiling and just pray that one of the Red Cross workers don't get caught on any of my blood tubes hanging down the side of the cot and trip and fall and most importantly don't rip the needle and my arm right from my body, in turn making my blood squirt all over the conference room and my co-workers. THAT, my friends, is what I think about the whole entire time I lie there squeezing and releasing the little stick they gave me as a prize. Then they give me this sheet of paper with a number to call in case I suddenly remember that sexual encounter and want to alert them to not use my blood. Would I put myself through all of this if I wasn't sure I was sparkling clean?

Is anyone else this neurotic?

PS Speaking of blood......since I'm now 2 books deep into the Twilight series and seriously hoping to someday really meet a vampire.......blood donation day is NOT the day I want this to occur. What if one of my co-workers is a vampire? This gives me a whole new neurotic thing to ponder while I lie there at work with no blood pressure, no iron and both arms draining my liquid gold blood.

PPS I also fear that if I get rejected because of my iron level then my co-workers will see me get rejected and they'd all think that I'd just recently had unprotected sexual relations with a Haitian, HIV positive, Hemophiliac, Drug Addict.

Embarassing Mom moment number 456

My oldest son is in fifth grade and they are the Big Kids on Campus this year. I'm on a committee with 4 other women to plan events for the fifth graders at school. One of the tasks is raising money, so I volunteered to spearhead the first big fundraiser, they're selling KidStuff Entertainment coupon books. It is a great fundraiser, we get 50% of the profit and the coupons are really valuable. I volunteered for this because working full time, carting boyscout, cheerleader and spaz to their respective (many) activites, going to the beach on weekends, maintaining the Home and School website, cleaning (or not cleaning) my house, doing laundry, shopping, cooking and everything else just wasn't enough for me to do. Anyway, we gave 3 of these books to each of the 91 fifth graders and told them to sell what they can, if they need more to let me know and return what they can't sell......all in 3 weeks. The sale ends today.

Early one morning last week I quickly typed up a 'reminder' email message and sent it to the entire fifth grade. I reminded them that there was one week left, reminded them of what they need to do, reminded them of the prizes and I thought I'd put a little pep speech at the end.

This is what I wrote at the end to motivate them: "Sell Sell Sell! We want to make this year as awesome as possible f you YOU!"

Yup, I just said 'f you' to the whole fifth grade.

Its been a week and I'm still hearing about it.

PS My son doesn't know about this, as I already embarrassed him twice during the sale. Once when I went in the classes to promote the sale and left my purse in one of the classrooms; and then the second time when I accidentally sent my car keys home with the coupon books for one of the other students. I should just stop.