Fun fact: Club Monaco gives a 20% discount to students. All you gotta do is ask.
Fun fact number two: There are personality traits associated with blood types, like horoscopes. Or so the little informational sheet at the blood drive snack table said. That's interesting, right? Apparently I'm creative and adventurous and should donate platelets and some other things that I can't remember as exactly. I'm B+.
Fun fact number three: The bandaid on the middle finger of my left hand is making it hard to type.
That last fact wasn't so fun, Hope.
Sometimes you're really picky, you know that?
Later this evening there's a jazz concert I'm required to attend. I'm hoping it's marvelous and not too incredibly long because as much as I enjoy concerts, I really enjoy being able to dance and move around and if you get up in the middle of a jazz concert and start dancing around I bet you someone gets mad, yeah?
I dunno, I've never been to a jazz concert. Maybe the conventions are six shades of crazy and all of the ushers are going to be wearing neon socks and wide, manic smiles that say, "DANCE, HOPE! DANCE!"
But I'm doubtful.
It's been a while since I've given blood. They had me answer all of the questions on a computer myself this time. I paused for a while to thank my lucky stars that none of my relatives have ever suffered from Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. One, that is hard to spell (I think I misspelled it, actually, in the text message I sent to Joe while I was waiting in the booth). Two, that is, like, human mad cow. Ugly stuff, you guys. Ugly stuff. And just think: even if your day has been absolutely hideous, like maybe you were giving blood and you had some sort of wild accident and blood got all over your shirt, and then your cat died, and maybe your grandmother cut you out of the will because the only thing she really liked you for was your cat or your history of having never stained an article of clothing, you can always stop after all of that and think, Hey, at least I don't have a transmissible spongiform encephalopathy!
Unless you do. In which case, I'm really sorry. But like, 1 in 1 million people have Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. And about 100 or so people in the entire world have fatal familial insomnia, and you have to eat the brain of a deceased person from New Guinea or whatever to get kuru, and you have to be a deer to get chronic wasting disease. So you're probably good.
My bed is mad comfortable right now, but I should probably get up and wash my sheets, 'cause they're not the cleanest at the moment.
And anyway, I don't want to be caught off guard by the time. No, "Oh, is it 7:30? Goodness me, nearly concert time!" Especially with Lisa's birthday party being tonight. I'm probably going to want a shower. Nothing says, "Happy birthday; you're great!" quite like washing your hair for someone.
Also: Maybe you're still mourning the death of The Hush Sound, which is totally understandable, but whether you are or not you should give Greta Morgan's new band, Gold Motel, a listen. 'Cause they're like... if The Hush Sound and Best Coast had a baby. So, y'know. They make you feel good.
Fun fact number two: There are personality traits associated with blood types, like horoscopes. Or so the little informational sheet at the blood drive snack table said. That's interesting, right? Apparently I'm creative and adventurous and should donate platelets and some other things that I can't remember as exactly. I'm B+.
Fun fact number three: The bandaid on the middle finger of my left hand is making it hard to type.
That last fact wasn't so fun, Hope.
Sometimes you're really picky, you know that?
Later this evening there's a jazz concert I'm required to attend. I'm hoping it's marvelous and not too incredibly long because as much as I enjoy concerts, I really enjoy being able to dance and move around and if you get up in the middle of a jazz concert and start dancing around I bet you someone gets mad, yeah?
I dunno, I've never been to a jazz concert. Maybe the conventions are six shades of crazy and all of the ushers are going to be wearing neon socks and wide, manic smiles that say, "DANCE, HOPE! DANCE!"
But I'm doubtful.
It's been a while since I've given blood. They had me answer all of the questions on a computer myself this time. I paused for a while to thank my lucky stars that none of my relatives have ever suffered from Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. One, that is hard to spell (I think I misspelled it, actually, in the text message I sent to Joe while I was waiting in the booth). Two, that is, like, human mad cow. Ugly stuff, you guys. Ugly stuff. And just think: even if your day has been absolutely hideous, like maybe you were giving blood and you had some sort of wild accident and blood got all over your shirt, and then your cat died, and maybe your grandmother cut you out of the will because the only thing she really liked you for was your cat or your history of having never stained an article of clothing, you can always stop after all of that and think, Hey, at least I don't have a transmissible spongiform encephalopathy!
Unless you do. In which case, I'm really sorry. But like, 1 in 1 million people have Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. And about 100 or so people in the entire world have fatal familial insomnia, and you have to eat the brain of a deceased person from New Guinea or whatever to get kuru, and you have to be a deer to get chronic wasting disease. So you're probably good.
My bed is mad comfortable right now, but I should probably get up and wash my sheets, 'cause they're not the cleanest at the moment.
And anyway, I don't want to be caught off guard by the time. No, "Oh, is it 7:30? Goodness me, nearly concert time!" Especially with Lisa's birthday party being tonight. I'm probably going to want a shower. Nothing says, "Happy birthday; you're great!" quite like washing your hair for someone.
Also: Maybe you're still mourning the death of The Hush Sound, which is totally understandable, but whether you are or not you should give Greta Morgan's new band, Gold Motel, a listen. 'Cause they're like... if The Hush Sound and Best Coast had a baby. So, y'know. They make you feel good.
No comments:
Post a Comment