Buy Me a Digital Camera Someone
It probably wouldn't be a very good idea for me to have a digital camera b/c then every entry to this blog would include a slightly blurry photograph of one of my cats. And really, they don't do anything interesting at all. They walk around and lay down and stare out the window or hide under the bed. That's it. But I still want a digital camera. I'm sure I would take lots of pictures of myself too since it's so easy to delete them. I'd only keep the good ones. I would seriously probably take 500 pictures in a row to get one that I liked.
My coworker Joe gave blood today and he won't shut up about it. Apparently, the nurse did this thing where she took out extra blood, then removed the special important blood globules and stuck the plasma back into his veins and he could feel the plasma and the saline circulating through his bloodstream because it was cold. The last time I gave blood was probably in college. I had a bad experience where the needle wasn't in place and the blood was leaking out and it hurt. I told the nurse and instead of fixing it, she yanked the needle out and said, Well, let's try the other arm them. Afterwards, I had huge bruises (we doctors refer to this as "hematomas") on both arms. I felt very holy. I never did it again. I can justify this because my blood type is AB+, universal receiver. What that means is that I can receive any blood type, but only AB+ people can receive my blood. My donating is like a kajillionaire using coupons at the grocery store. It doesn't make much of an impact overall. That's how I justify my selfish hoarding of my hemoglobin, anyway.
I have been thinking about writing a short story about the time I worked at a non profit organization which shall remain nameless because the woman who runs it is the kind of person who would spend thousands and millions of dollars to sue someone for making a veiled reference to the company in an obscure blog.
The story would have to center around some type of nonprofit, but I'm not sure which one...I had an idea the other day, but I can't remember now. Oh, yes, something to do with children who have cancer. I haven't really started writing it, though I did think of one scene. They have a child whose photograph they use to raise awareness about leukemia and I imagined the woman looking at the poster and saying:
"Can't you find a kid who looks a little sicker? This one has rosy cheeks and she's plump."
"But she is ill. The family just found out that the cancer is back."
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but she looks fine. We plaster her face everywhere and people are going to go, 'Those kids don't seem too bad off! Let's give to the AIDS people this year instead.'"
There would also be an inept, bungling manager who is a born again and keeps tracts from his church on his desk and he's also in the closet in a very obvious way. The problem with the story though is that you can't make everyone a jerk because then the central narrator is just this victim. I'll have to think about it more.
Save a life! Donate one, people!
My coworker Joe gave blood today and he won't shut up about it. Apparently, the nurse did this thing where she took out extra blood, then removed the special important blood globules and stuck the plasma back into his veins and he could feel the plasma and the saline circulating through his bloodstream because it was cold. The last time I gave blood was probably in college. I had a bad experience where the needle wasn't in place and the blood was leaking out and it hurt. I told the nurse and instead of fixing it, she yanked the needle out and said, Well, let's try the other arm them. Afterwards, I had huge bruises (we doctors refer to this as "hematomas") on both arms. I felt very holy. I never did it again. I can justify this because my blood type is AB+, universal receiver. What that means is that I can receive any blood type, but only AB+ people can receive my blood. My donating is like a kajillionaire using coupons at the grocery store. It doesn't make much of an impact overall. That's how I justify my selfish hoarding of my hemoglobin, anyway.
I have been thinking about writing a short story about the time I worked at a non profit organization which shall remain nameless because the woman who runs it is the kind of person who would spend thousands and millions of dollars to sue someone for making a veiled reference to the company in an obscure blog.
The story would have to center around some type of nonprofit, but I'm not sure which one...I had an idea the other day, but I can't remember now. Oh, yes, something to do with children who have cancer. I haven't really started writing it, though I did think of one scene. They have a child whose photograph they use to raise awareness about leukemia and I imagined the woman looking at the poster and saying:
"Can't you find a kid who looks a little sicker? This one has rosy cheeks and she's plump."
"But she is ill. The family just found out that the cancer is back."
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but she looks fine. We plaster her face everywhere and people are going to go, 'Those kids don't seem too bad off! Let's give to the AIDS people this year instead.'"
There would also be an inept, bungling manager who is a born again and keeps tracts from his church on his desk and he's also in the closet in a very obvious way. The problem with the story though is that you can't make everyone a jerk because then the central narrator is just this victim. I'll have to think about it more.
Save a life! Donate one, people!
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