Once More

Ok folks, if you're the real squeamish type, I'm sorry to bring up blood again. As sorry as I am, though, here we go!

If you look at my previous post about self testing my blood type, you'll notice that a friend commented that A- blood is some of the rarest blood. I immediately thought this was pretty cool and so decided to do some further researcher in the hopes of blogging about the fact that my blood makes me some sort of quasi superhero. or at the very least, some sort of rare medical phenomenon to be awed. 

Unfortunately, my research was rather confusing and didn't yield quite the results I was expecting. First off, it appears that A- blood isn't so rare as my friend would have me believe. I must admit I was maybe just a little upset to find that B- is even more rare. Second, rare blood is way more complicated then just A, B, and O. There's like Rh factors, and plasmas and it's all just way too intense for me to want to get into.

and third, as exciting as all this was in the beginning, it turns out the actual pricking of my finger was way more fun then wading through loads of boring info.

I did, however, come across the most hilarious website on blood types. Go here for a laugh, especially when the narrator gets down to listing attributes that are common of negative RHeses (no clue how to pluralize that bad boy!). If they were all true I guess I should be a fair skinned, red headed, blue eyed science lover with UFO connections. . .

bahahahahaha.

If you don't know me personally, let me assure you: I'm basically the opposite of every single one of these attributes. Except, I was one abducted by ali- anyway, enough about that. This doesn't describe me at all.

Although, if you'll scroll down to the bottom of the website, you'll find that apparently the rh- trait comes form fallen angels/aliens. So maybe I really am a superhero of sorts. 

Or maybe I just totally did the blood test wrong. I think I'll leave that little mystery unsolved for awhile.

A Negative

For the last few months, my good friend and roommate Becca has been experiment with different diets in order to help with her health. Recently, she's become  increasingly interested in this book and diet regimen called Eating Right for Your Type. The basic premise is that different blood types require different diet and exercise styles to maximize healthy living and healthy body weight. I'm still somewhat skeptical and haven't done enough personal research to espouse any of the beliefs laid out in the book, but believe me, anything that promises shedding some pounds is always something I'm interested in! On that note, my own interest has been piqued.

There has just been one little, teeny tiny problem: I happen to be part of what I suspect to be a large group of people who don't actually know their blood type. eek!

Thus, I jumped on the chance to figure out my own blood type when Becca announced this evening that she had a blood type testing kit lying around. Also, the promise of pricking my own finger was somewhat seductive. I'm not one of those people who shies away from needles or blood, and have always thought it would be fun!

And so the blood testing commenced. It was a little more involved than I expected as you had to use these little stick things and get four drops of blood without smearing them on your fingertip. Stirring and turning and counter clockwise and counter-counterclockwise turning were then required to swirl or shake the blood thoroughly around the test circles. 

I thought there would be a little more mystery involved, but it became immediately clear that I was blood type A Negative. How fun! I immediately wished there were other people and other kits around to test their blood type. I feel like it could be kind of addicting. Like those blow up sponges you get and put in water and watch them grow. or eating Nutella. 

So what I'm really saying is. . .if you don't know your blood type, you should get a test kit. And then  

call me. 

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, Lovelies. 

I'm spending the day vertical on the couch, trying to fight off death (aka I'm ill).

Blessedly, however I was able to spend New Year's Eve with some lovely people enjoying good food, laughter, and fun conversation. What more could I have asked for to say goodbye to this crazy year!

and, while it may seem like a bummer to be sick on New Year's Day, is really a blessing in disguise. I mean, 2011 can only get better from here!

So Long 2010

It's that time of year when everyone is looking back and reflecting on all the things that have happened. Not to be too pompous or anything, but I definitely feel that I've had some pretty good moments here in blogville, and thought it would be fun to jump on the band wagon and think about my best posts of the last year.

I began this blog in February, and it's been a fabulous trip so far. From leaving The Writer to moving to moving to a new city, it's all been a trip and I'm glad I have this blog to remember it by.

That said, here are my favorite blog posts of this past year. I hope you'll enjoy reminiscing with me!

5. With A Twist- the second half of this post, involving Straight No Chaser!

4. ER Visit

3. Lock Down

2. Mouscapades

1. T Crush

These are my favorites because they remind me of great moments this past year, crazy moments this past year, and also remind me of all the changes that have taken place since I started writing this past March. I can't even imagine what 2011 will bring!

The End of the Affair

I've recently become disillusioned by a store, who name I will mention. Kohls.

To be fair, recently actually means about 3 minutes ago, so I'm writing this through the embittered haze of one who has just had the glitter of a fabulous online order ripped from her eye (does that even make sense? Forgive me, I'm a little irritated whilst writing 

this. . .)

I can remember when it all first started. About 3.5 months ago, I headed into a Kohls having been there, of course, a million times before. Countless sales and great buys for some reason hadn't really made it clear to me. That fateful day, however, something changed. My eyes were opened (so to speak) and I realized what an amazing deal everything was. So many sales, so many fun clothes. I was in love. Totally in love. I even signed up for their credit card (eek!). From that day on it's been fabulous. Kohls peppers me with incredibly exciting e-mails and sales, and I happily head to kohls.com and spend way more money that I should. It's all a win-win really (well, now that I'm writing it out it doesn't seem too win-ny for me). 

Then about 2.5 weeks ago, I headed onto their website to find the most adorable little night set and all the proceeds went to charity. It was half off for $5 but then of course if i ordered $50 I'd get free shipping andihadacouponfor15%offsoIhadtoreallyordermorethan$50. . .OK, so you get the point. Sixty dollars later, I was happily tapping in my Kohls charge number and getting excited for my purchases to be shipped three day express for free and arrive before Christmas. Not because they were presents, but because I really wanted to wear the new outfit for Christmas. 

December 23rd rolls around and I come home from work to find my package sitting pretty in the lobby for me. I rushed inside and began to tug open the packaging. Suddenly, a black wad pops out of the bag. "What?" I think, "I didn't order tights in my frenzy, did I?" Oh no, I didn't. Kohls.com had screwed up my order and sent me three pairs of large, men's, black gloves. Seriously? Where were my Vera Wang jeans? My LC cardigan with purple flowers? Nowhere to be found!

The next day, I called to remedy the sitch. The lady was very accommodating but confused me with talk of someone coming to pick up the order and switching and setting up times, etc. It all seemed a little complicated and ridiculous to me, but I went with it. How foolish. When I'd still received no word from "them" -the people who were to switch the order- I started to get a little impatient so I called again tonight to get more answers.

Oh, I got some alright. Super helpful guy tells me a. girl from before did something that was wrong and (he didn't say exactly) wasn't even protocol; b. I can remedy the situation in about 3 weeks; c. I have to go return the wrong order they shipped me in store if I want to speed up the process; d. I can't get part of my order because it's no longer available (the sleeper set that started this whole mess) and; e. I still won't get the rest of my order for another 2 weeks.

Dear Kohls,

We're through. 

At least until you send me another coupon for 40% and I totally forget that you suck at keeping orders straight and I really don't like you. But until then, I'm so over you. 

What's 4 More?

It's come to my attention that I maybe have made a bit of an error on a previous post. 

If you go here and take a gander at the last couple of paragraphs you'll notice that I may or may not have made reference to santa's lovely reindeer. The problem is, I alluded to the fact that there were 12 reindeer (or, flat out said it).

I mean I'm sure there are 12 reindeer, really. Of course Santa probably runs things such that he has some backups. What happens if Dancer gets a snowball in the face, or Prancer steps wrong and sprains a hoof?

Still, the fact remains that traditionally, Santa only has 8 reindeer, nine if you count Rudolph. I mean, I know the song: Now there's Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Vixen, Comet, and Cupid, and Donner and Blitzen. And obviously, I recall the most famous reindeer of all. Nevertheless, I still somehow just assumed that all those names made 12. . . whoops!

Just wanted to clear that up on this Eve before Christmas. And now, back to some festivities, including watching Love Actually, one of my fav Christmas movies, with the mom and sister.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

More Tales from the T

First and foremost. Let me update you on my life with this piece of shocking news: I saw my T crush on Tuesday and he had cut his hair! Gone were those beautiful, luscious, blond, curly locks (OK, now you're wondering if I have a crush on the man or the hair. . .I wonder that too sometimes). I'm pretty sure I gave an audible gasp when he entered and I recognized who he was. Still, after recovering, I decided he looked just as good, maybe even a little more mature (I like mature) and he still had cute little licks in front, like, just hints of curls. I could handle that.

However, I couldn't be too focused on T crush because the most (this remains to be seen, as stuff like this happens often) ridiculous scenario was playing out right next to me on the train.

Actually, I've gotten ahead of myself, let me start from the beginning. 5:05 PM, a coworker and I hop on our train to head home. I grab a nearby seat, while J stands across from me (she was getting off at the next stop to transfer). A short, rather stout man gets on the train and charges over to where I'm sitting, squeezing his way between me and another passenger. J and I are chatting when, just after we pull out of the station, Man sticks his arm right in front of my face, so that I actually have to lean back, and presses the bell strip on the wall  (Mind you, you don't have to do that underground). His hand lingers for a moment then, he slooowly lowers it away from my face. J and I are working hard not to laugh at this point.

We arrive at the stop for which he's rung the bell. He sits calmly, not even attempting to get off or looking the least bit confused, concerned. nothing.

J leaves, i plunk in my headphones and slip into the dream like state the T always induces in me. Man falls asleep or is dying or something, as he's making weird, hacking, blowing noises periodically. I squeeze as far against the wall as possible.

When we hit the above ground portion of our trip, Man becomes excited, but for some reason is moving at the pace of a sloth. He leans over, this time in the other direction, and basically straddles the male passenger beside him to ring the bell strip again. Other Guy looks alarmed and tries to get out of his way, to no avail. Man half stands, sits after that. We stop.

Again, doesn't get off.

This goes on for 3 or so more stops, until, at one point Man is literally on top of Other Guy. With a wild look in his eye, Other Guy manages to scrunch up and scoot his way out from under Man and slide next to me. He looks at me with a look of panic, confusion, and just general WTH?? I smile understandingly, secretly really glad Man decided to use the other bell strip.

Finally, Man makes his way to the exit, but doesn't get off. When a woman gets on blocking his way the door, he becomes incredibly agitated, "Excuse me, excuse me" he exclaims in a nasaly voice, "I'm getting of at the next stop. Excuse me!" 

She smiles calmy and assures him she'll move when they stop. Man is clearly not happy but has no choice. At last, the train stops and he exits, blocking several other people trying to get on/off in the process. I spent the rest of my ride home trying to work out exactly what had just happened.  All I can say is, there's never a dull moment around these parts.

For the record, T crush seemed to find these goings on equally strange. Not that I was watching him or anything. I mean, not at all. I just assumed. . .