Blood Drives Aren't For Suckers

See what I did there? I am punny.

A couple days ago I went to a blood drive. It was mainly my friend Katie’s fault. She’s able to peer-pressure me into pretty much anything because she is awesome (I guess it’s a good thing that she’s a good person and donates blood instead of…like…being an axe-murdering prostituting chain-smoking curb stomper, because I’d probably do that too) …but that was that. Basically, I thought it would be a lot different in my imagination.





But it wasn’t like that at all.

It was in the school gym, which smelled of antiseptic wipes and fear. There were recliney-beds everywhere, little private booths that were made of gym-mats, and stern looking medical staff (who were actually really nice, but sort of intimidating). Also, there was a water jug where you had to drink two cups of water before you could get in. It was like a cult. In the corner, (segregated by first-time donors and regulars) you could see the Veterans, who were all chill and reclined in waiting chairs and stuff, and talking about their days in the blood-donor battlefield.





They did not reassure me.

Before I even got asked questions about whether or not I had ever had sex in 1977, I apparently looked like I was going to die, because the head nurse was all like ‘Are you okay? Why aren’t you drinking juice?’ and I was all like ‘I haven’t even gone yet…’ and it was awkward.

But soon enough I was on a bed, staring with extreme interest at the ceiling. Katie was almost done, and she looked even better than before, just getting her kicks and giggles out of draining away one eighth of her blood count.





After Katie was done she came to hold my hand while the nurse drew on my arm with a pen which I thought was a needle and I was in extreme pain and it was sad because, seriously, I thought that bitch was a needle.

Luckily I spurt a lot of nonsense when I’m nervous, so me, Katie and Brett didn’t really stop talking. I told the nurse I was strong like bull so there was no need for them to worry about me. And my face got really hot and my fingers were cold and they got all chubby, that was fun. And I got a revolutionary sash. Then I talked about rapping my top-secret totally anonymous teacher rap, and some other stuff which I don’t remember, and there was Urinetown and also some orange juice. And my blood is fast, apparently (I can donate blood faster than I can run a mile). When I got home, this is all my mother had to share with me:









Yes. I’m glad I could do it, though. I’m glad I could do something with my pretty much useless blood, because now where that one pint of blood used to be, I can store POWER and experience points.

Vegetarianism Was Always Just A Twinkle In My Mommy's Eyes

I admit it. I am the worst vegetarian. But whenever my (admittedly weak) motives come up for being one, I fight for that cause, dammit, I fight for it like an Amazon on crack. I don’t really know why, maybe it’s because I’m stubborn, maybe it’s because it’s just the way I’ve been, but there are just some things, like powdered chicken fat, that you have to take a stand against.

My family has the strangest fights. In a house of two daughters and a mom, there’s way too much femininity around there that every so often my mom has to channel her General-Shang manfight side (and by that, I mean, use unnecessary force and make her voice all low and scary). One such incident occurred after we’d made pancakes and Sister darling looked in the fridge and, by golly, there was no syrup. At first I hoped it would just blow over.

But it didn’t.











After this went on for a while, my mommy decided to take things into her own hands.

Literally.





Another favourite of mine was when a friend of mine didn’t get an award, but mommy thought she had, and when explained to that it wasn’t actually an award, mommy got all mad at me and thought I was insulting her intelligence and that I should go find a shower out on the street, since that was where I would soon be living.

Yes, there have been some interesting squabbles in our house.

So when the vegetarian one came up again, (it is tried and true, sadly), I was prepared. Well, not really. It was pretty much my problem. There was this small matter of dried chicken fat and I was all like, I’m not really gonna eat that sorry…**awkward pause** and BLAM mommy’s Tolerance Wall just exploded. I can’t blame her. I am really annoying when I believe in something, even when it’s obviously a lie. I have been that way since birth.

















So even though there’s really no excuse for ANYONE to follow anyone else around, chanting various types of meat and threatening to buy slabs of it, I can sort of see her reasoning.

Court Is Not Like Legally Blonde Makes It Look Like

Today I went to court with my mommy. It was fun.

We sat in silence driving, while my stomach grumbled pathetically, until we got there. It was a small building on the outside, brick, with tall windows. Strangely, in my head, I’d pictured it to be taller, with more bluish stone, and with castle turrets and a drawbridge and cartoon men pouring boiling oil over the sides and throwing stuff. But it wasn’t. The decorators must have been really creative because they chose this colour tan that was too light to be poop-coloured and too pale to be puke-coloured, so it was more like a kind of waffly, watered-down cousin of the two mixed together.

When we got there, we experienced the top picks of the Lake Forest Punks, who all sat in silence waiting to mob the courtroom. There were two guys leaning against the wall talking, a girl in blue tights, and some random adults, including an old man in a plaid newsboy hat. I listened in on the boys’ conversation because at least it was more interesting than the job of the women who checked the bags of the people coming in (they looked like they were having the time of their life. But, they did get to wear bow ties, so I mean, how bad could it be?). And it was like this:







I had fallen in with a crowd of the most baddest of the asses.
When it was time to get in, I was pretty much scared out of my mind. I was grateful for the clerk lady because she reminded me of Garcia from Criminal Minds, but that was about it. There were like eight benches and I followed my mommy to one, because the big bad crowd of Lake Forest Punks scared me. It was like we were being silently judged as we moved through the crowd. We passed up Badass Young Guys With Multiple Tickets to sit by Silent Asian Man in Penny Loafers. Then when they called my name IT WAS TIME TO FACE THE JUDGE BWA DAAAAAA DUMMMM

(But it really wasn’t that bad and I am saying this because one day the remnants of this blog, old and cold like the bottom of a cup of coffee, will wash up on the Everlasting Shores of the Internet and at the foot of my job and, much like a cup of old coffee, I’m going to have to own up to it.)

Basically, it was all like ‘YOUUUUUU’VE DONNE A BAAAD THIINNNNG YOOOUNNG WHOOMANNN YOOOOOOU BEETTERRRR WATCHHH YOOOOO BACKKKK CUZZZ IMMA GETTTCHAAAA AGAIIINNNNNNN AND IFFF I DONNT GETCHAAA THEN LAW JESUS WILL TAKE YOUR SOULLLLL’ in an echoey old 70s-movie-esque- special -effects laden bad Halloween movie with absolutely no pity or humour anywhere in that crowd. It makes me not want to be a lawyer, even thought I went through this phase which was all ‘I’m gonna be the best damn lawyer OUT THERE and bring MAGIC and HUMAN EMPATHY to EVERY COURTROOM EVERYWHERE dammit’, which was heavily inspired by Legally Blonde (but with PIZAZZ. PIZAZZ like tap-dancing and mashed potatoes with cheese and herbs and stuff.)






Basically, I learned my lesson from the time I got pulled over (by a man who looked like a cross between Javert and Charlie from Fringe) and there was no need to go through all that utter seriousness (which I am still not done with. I still get to go to Traffic School, so Lake Forest Punks: The Sequel is in order!) just to scare me more. I even tried to look sooper innocent today (I found a butterfly clip from third grade!) but apparently even sixteen year olds are supposed to know to call the judge ‘ma’m’ and stuff. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT

I MEAN IT’S NOT LIKE IT’S COMMON SENSE OR ANYTHING

But yeah. It was fun, but, no thanks to doing it again.






(this did not happen in real life. only in katie’s dreams)

Also, this didn’t have as many pictures as I’d like, so here’s some.





Macbeth’s Origins

The Devil May Care

(where the unused blog pictures go to die)

SO I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANYTHING INTERESTING IN FOR EVER BECAUSE I AM LAME AND CLAIM NOT TO HAVE TIME TO DO ANYTHING BUT THEN SIT AND LISTEN TO THAT BRITISH KID ON YOUTUBE WHO TALKS ABOUT AWESOME STUFF FOR LIKE THREE HOURS OR LIVE VICARIOUSLY THROUGH SIMS 2. YES I INTEND NOW TO DO A PICTURE DUMP OF EVERYTHING I HAVEN'T USED. OH HO HO

IT'LL BE LIKE ONE OF THOSE CREATE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE STORIES. SO HAVE FUN. I FEEL AS THOUGH I WOULD BE A TERRIBLE BABYSITTER BECAUSE MY LACK OF CREATIVE SKILLS AND ALSO WILL TO DO THINGS WOULD MOOSH TOGETHER INTO ONE POOPLET OF FAILURE TO GET ANYTHING ACCOMPLISHED OR AMUSE THE KIDS. THEY'D BE ALL LIKE, YOU LOSER WE NOT GUNNA PLAY UR STOOPID MIND GAMES. ATTACK TIME!!! I ACTUALLY HAVE A STORY ABOUT THAT

BUT NOT FOR THIS


SOOO

JUST KIND OF MAKE ONE UP I SUPPOSE

AWKWARDSOUP McINTERVIEWFAIL

Today for Telecom (that class I take where we film stuff) I had to interview a teacher. I chose to interview Ben, head of tech in theatre, even though he's not a teacher and doesn't direct an extracurricular activity, which pretty much cut out ten of the fifteen questions I had to ask. But at the beginning of the project, my hopeful little mind was set on working alone and maybe interviewing him at his desk. Unfortunately my telecom teacher has a Babel Fish in his ear that turns Rachael-language into gibberish so he just fills in the blanks, and I not only got stuck with two partners, but also filming this interview in the REAL LIVE INTERVIEW-Y ROOM WITH CHAIRS AND LIKE THREE CAMERAS AND THOSE GLOWY-ASS UMBRELLA LIGHTS.

I am not very good on camera. And Ben is pretty awkward, so combine my failure to talk on camera and his awkward and you get a bucket o' awkward soup.

The interview was about to happen. I had been nervously waddling around all hour, trying to get the jittermonster out of my stomach, when I realized I hadn't printed my questions. I went to print them and was so nervous that my normal telecom stupidity was multiplied by 1,000 and I couldn't find the print button. I think I asked a question to one of the senior TA's that was kind of like this:





It was so preposterously illogical and senseless that my TA's just stared at me, dumbfounded. So they left me to fret around and poke at the printer while the rest of my class waited on me.

Once I finally got to the interview, there was about a year of staring blankly into the cameras before we began. I think I asked questions. I really don't know. All I remember is staring into this blank void somewhere in between the cameras and the control room. I remember there was a whooshy sound in my head and I couldn't get my feet to balance on the chair and also there was this godlike silence in my head where I probably wasn't even talking and my face looked like this:



And Ben was all like





















AND THEN IT WAS OVER.

ANTICLIMACTIC I KNOW.







so that is why I am never on camera. And I'mmuna be all over my two partners to edit every bit of me out of that video.

RAP OFF

THIS WENT DOWN





YOU THINK YOU CAN CHALLENGE MY SH*T/ WELL ILL TELL YOU YOU AINT WORTH SPIT /MY RAPPIN IS AMAZIN, ITS FREAKIN LEGIT/ I DONT USE BIG WORDS BUT I DONT QUIT/
YOU THINK YOU'RE A BAKER WELL IM SO FLY /THAT I MAKE PUMPKINS BEFORE I MAKE PIE /
WELL COME ON NOW WELL DONT BE SHY /YOU THINK YOU CAN BEAT ME WELL YOU CAN TRY/CUZ YOU’RE JUST A STUPID PIE BAKER GUY/ IMMA RAP SO HARD IMMA MAKE U CRY/YOU THINK YOU CAN DRINK WELL I DRINK MORE/ ONE DAY WHEN I WENT TO THE STORE /I BOUGHTS ME SOME CIDER AND THAT WAS OKAY/IT WAS BETTER THAN A FRITO LAY/ I HAVENT ATE DIN DIN YET BECAUSE I AM BROKE /ITS SAD BECAUSE I WANT AN ARTICHOKE /AND YOU OVER THERE WITH YOUR DAD (WHOS A BLOKE)/ TO SAY THAT YOU'RE BETTER I REALLY DONT CARE /I TYPE IN CAPS BECAUSE IM DEBONAIR/ YOU DONT BE RIPPIN ON MY PERSONALITY/ I AM FUCKING MISS CONGENIALITY/ DONT BRING FREUD INTO THIS YOU BITCH /THAT MAN MAKES MY SUPEREGO ITCH/ AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON MASLOW AND HIS ORDER OF NEEDS/ HE'S ABOUT AS FLY AS DR REID/ SO IF YOU BE ALL SMARTICLE WELL I BE DAMNED /JUST BECAUSE YOU SUCK AND ARE AN ARROGANT MAN/MY SISTER IS WAY SMARTER THAN I/ SHE CAN SAY LIKE A MILLION DIGITS OF PI /JUST BECAUSE I AM AWESOME DOESNT MEAN YOU'RE BETTER /MY RAPPIN PUTS YOURS IN A FETTER /SO I CAN DROP NAMES JUST AS WELL AS YOU CAN/LIKE FRIGGIN UNCLE SAM THE TOUCAN/ LOST IS A TV SHOW THAT I KNOW WELL/ SO IF YOU DUN LIKE THEN YOU SMELL.


VEGGIE RAP OUT
thats right
i not only am good at rapping
but i have a fantastic ass name

WHAT CHOO GONNA DO BOUT IT