One last facebook thing.

I couldn’t help it. This one just makes me giggle.

Personally, I’d have beaten this guy over the head with my computer, but then again, I’m a lady.

a comical cartoon

this is for reader Carpetbaggery:

it’s a facebook thing

Facebook is good for many things. You can keep in touch with friends and family all over the world, keep up your competitive skills with a friendly game of WordTwist and annoy the ever-living-piss out of people with random quiz questions.

Let me break it down for you:

1. Facebook conversations:

Sometimes within a few minutes of posting something new, I’ll get a response. This usually results in a Facebook conversation. For example:

Sure it took 11 minutes to have a normal conversation, but we still had one. Facebook, bringing family closer together one post at a time…

The hazards of having a Facebook conversation is that when you make one lousy comment in a thread of 20+, you get 20+ notifications on crap you just don’t care about. To avoid such an issue, start a new thread by posting a comment on someone’s wall. It took me about 3 months and much swearing to finally realize that if I didn’t give a crap what Suzie from New Mexico has to say about a botched manicure that happened to a person I graduated from high school with…well, it can all be avoided now. Especially when all I wanted to say was “Wow, that sucks you paid for that,” and then Suzie goes ON AND ON AND ON about how she HAS to get her nails done every other week and she never understands what those damn “Orientals” are saying, but who cares because they do a good, cheap job. (Stupid, stupid people and their racist comments.)

2. Posting on people’s walls:

I love doing this when I know the person really well. Especially when you can be sarcastic and mean. In the real world I’m nothing of the sort. Well, perhaps a touch sarcastic, but not mean. In Facebook world, I can be all of those things. For example:

Then there are people like Kristin that do it for me (Which I totally appreciate and giggle at):

If it weren’t for that face then I would have been like, “Awww, snap!”

3. Facebook games:

I play WordTwist, Mafia Wars and have recently rekindled my love for Scrabble. I believe I titled the game, “‘Bout damn time.”

Mafia Wars is a sad, sick addiction. To the point where I log into Carly’s account to play on hers, too.

I think I need rehab.

4. Photo addiction.

I have 47 photo albums. Yes. 47. I have so many simply because of my family that’s out of town, and it’s so much more fun to post photos and let people comment on them than to upload it to snapfish.

For example:

Those are the finer points of how I love Facebook.

Oh Facebook. How you bring such joy to my life.

damn you wii for kicking my butt

For Christmas, I got one of my most asked for presents from my hubby: Wii Active.

I had bought Matt a Wii back in June for his birthday and he played it for about a half a second.

He bought me the Wii Active and now we practically fight over it.

So it’s 2 days after Christmas. I’ve had the product for 2 days.

I’m so hurting.

OK, so I go to the gym on the regular. I do my work out videos. I do cardio. I do weight training. I’ve lost all my baby weight and then some.

But this…this…wow. I don’t even know what it is. While working out, it’s so easy. I felt as if I had been cheated. Then I woke up the next morning, and OW!

I think it’s doing the heavybag. That’s gotta be what it is. Or maybe these slow, deep lunges. And we all know how much I HATE lunges.

Whatever it is, it’s gotten my husband’s butt in gear, my butt in gear and Claire wanting us to work out more so she can laugh at us.

Happy early new year!

…I didn’t make the weight requirement.

On Sunday at 8:30 Carly, Ben, Matt, Ian, the kids and I met for breakfast at B-Evans prior to giving blood. I was super jazzed and excited to get there. I was going to get hooked up to a machine that allows me to donate 2 whole units of red blood cells. Fan-cy!

Except it didn’t happen.

I got there, was approved through the pre-screening and took a seat on one of the cots next to “the machine.” When the ridiculously cranky phlobotomist came over to start the procedure, she looked at my paper and said, “You don’t weigh enough. You don’t meet the weight requirement. Sit over there to do the regular donation.”

Whaaaa….? I have NEVER been told such a thing before. I’m not saying I’m fat or anything, I just always thought weight requirements were for people under 120 pounds or something. Not someone like me who is 5′8″!

I was so upset by this, but I still donated regularly and was happy to do so. Plus, there was also a HUGE turnout.  Even my life-long friend, Kevin, showed up surprisingly and that was an awesome shock, too. He hates needles, but said I’m hard to say no to. Good for me! (Plus, when he found out I couldn’t donate the way I wanted to, he did “the machine” for me instead! How super awesome is that?)

But back to this weight requirement. I kept saying, in a sort of giggle, “I didn’t make the weight requirement…”

When I was brushing my teeth…”Seriously? I’m too light?”

When I was eating breakfast…”I mean, really? Didn’t make the weight requirement?”

When I was driving down the street…”I should have lied. I could have lied.”

When I was at the gym…”Maybe I should stop this madness…then I’d make the weight requirement.”

You get the point.

I guess my real issue is that I wanted to give everything I had for the cause. I thought by doing the ultimate donation, I’d feel so complete. Like I did all I could. But when they said no, I felt so inadequate. As if I just didn’t quite do enough. I know, I know, the fact that I nagged and begged and dragged every human I knew into the building to donate should feel like enough…but I guess, me being me, it just wasn’t.

So you know what I’m going to do about it?

Donate in 8 weeks.

You’ll be hearing from me again.

It was all in vein, er, I mean vain.

First off I want to say, MY SEMESTER IS OVER AND I CAN HAVE A LIFE AGAIN!!! But only for exactly 3 weeks, because then I have to start all over again. *sigh* However, this little break from books and papers and internships allows me to actually write a few blogs and contribute again! I have to say though, Cassie has done a fabulous job of writing diligently and carrying my ass…

Speaking of Cassie, today I went with her to donate blood. It was my first time and the thought of a needle draining my veins was slightly terrifying. After all the paperwork, I was taken to another room and checked for anemia. My iron was good but for some reason my heart rate was too high. The guy checking it kept telling me to calm down, but the more I tried, the worse it got. He kept saying, “you have to calm down. If you don’t keep your heart rate down while you give blood it could be dangerous.” Yeah, THAT’S a good way to relax someone…tell them they’re in danger. A few minutes of deep breathing and I was good to go. I then went to “the chair.” But, when the phlobotomist stuck me with the needle, she had a difficult time finding a vein. Apparently mine are small and stubborn. She stuck me and then stuck me again, and then again until I was wincing in pain. In the end, my tiny vein collapsed and she was unable to find one that worked, leaving me with nothing but one bruised and sore arm. At least I tried, right??

Overall, there was an excellent turnout at this blood drive and I hope it proves helpful for Cassie’s patient.

Rich Hill: 3 Cassie: 1

Let’s start at the beginning. Apparently it’s hell frozen over outside, because when I woke up this morning, the weather had deceived me.

I got into Matt’s VW Jetta GLI sport turbo…(I’m not bragging, there’s a point)…and this thing SUCKS in the winter. No, I take that back. It’s a DEATH TRAP in the winter. Or at least on days like today when the sky opened up and dumped snow on us and PennDOT sat on their butts and forgot about Rich Hill Road. Which is a common occurrence. It was not appreciated, PennDOT. Neither was when you passed me TWICE and A.) didn’t stop to ask if I was OK and B.) didn’t plow the snow or lay salt.

I’m getting ahead of myself.

At the end of the road on the Indiana twp line there’s a very windy, steep hill that I knew if I could just get down it without dying, I’d be OK enough to get to the main road.  Well, I got to the top of the hill, said a silent prayer and then began my decent.

I think I invented about 20 new swear words that weren’t even thought of yet. Then I stuck with the usual S*** F*** H*** D*** in one breath. Here’s what happened:

I started going down the hill and instantly lost all grip. I then started hearing Mrs. Farley (my gym teacher and driver’s ed instructor) in my head saying, “Pump the breaks! Don’t slam on them, pump them.” Which back then I thought was both dirty and silly, but now I know it’s true. The road quickly turned to the left, and as I eased the wheel in that direction, the back end then then started to catch up to me. This in turn made me turn the wheel the other direction where I met a snow embankment, smacked my head off the steering wheel, bounced backwards towards the other side of the road, and began to go straight down the hill. Then, fearing someone would be coming up the hill, instead of hitting them head on, I figured I’d rather have them slam into my passenger side, so I pulled the e brake and skid down sideways about 500 feet. Then I released the e brake and made it the rest of the way without peeing my pants. All this in about 30 seconds.

And I’m not even close to being done yet. Rich Hill: 1 Cassie: 0

I was shaking and scared to near tears, but I thought, the worst is over… ha! I continued to drive and got to the hill that would take me up and out to the main road. I got about half way up and then couldn’t get the gripping I needed to make it up, so I pulled to the side behind another guy who was stranded. He was very nice and guided me backwards down the hill so I could at least attempt to get to a parking lot or something to wait for it to clear or AAA. Whichever came first.

But I’m stubborn. I tried the other road. Rich Hill: 2 Cassie: 0

I started to drive up Jackoby road and made it to about 5 feet from the top of the hill and then, again, just couldn’t quite do it. At this point I’m pissed beyond belief. I called work in a panic saying, “Lisa! I’m so sorry, I-was-in-a-wreck-hit-my-head-can’t-get-off-of-my-back-road-stuck-on-a-hill-side-near-death-mess!!! I’m going to be late.” She didn’t even recognize it was me I was in such a panic. She told me to be careful and no die trying to get in. Rich Hill:3 Cassie: 0

Finally after another plow passed me without actually PLOWING THE SNOW I made it down the hill, back to the base of my previous death hill and sat there near tears, again. I waited about 10 minutes then attempted the slow ascent up the hill and slowly, slowly made it up and got home in one piece. Or a puddle. I can’t remember.

I swapped cars and got behind the wheel of my ever faithful Jeep and safely (but slowly) got to work.

Rich Hill: 3 Cassie: 1

It’s not over, Rich Hill. The season is young.

*Oh, and my head is OK. Thanks for wondering!

Give the gift of life this christmas

My awesome friend Nicole found the flyer linking to the blood drive that is coming up SUNDAY. If those kids don’t make you want to donate, I don’t know what will. (I just imagine those being my kids and I’d want every person in Pittsburgh’s butt sitting in a donation chair so that I could live to see those babies every day from now until I’m 100.) I signed myself up for the double red cell procedure, so fancy!

If you don’t live in the area, but are still interested in helping this individual, you can go to your local Central Blood Bank and donate in his honor. Plus if you’re B+ that blood may go directly to him who will inevitably need it.

C’mon…get in the giving spirit! ‘Tis the season!

*head desk*

Matt calls me up Monday afternoon and says, “I have a chance to get some great seats to tomorrow night’s game.”

Me: “Seriously?”

Matt: “I know, I’m awesome, right?”

Me: “So the kids, they’re just going to watch themselves, I assume.”

Matt: *sigh*

Tuesday afternoon:

Matt: “So what are the odds that your Mom will keep Claire over night and we bring Luca to the game?”

Me: “Um, pretty unlikely since I didn’t bring anything for her and it’s TUESDAY AFTERNOON. Not to mention, what will Luca do when it comes time for him to sleep?”

Matt: “I’ll take that as a no?”

Me: “That’s a hell no.”

The tickets then ended up going to someone else in the office. *HUGE SIGH*

7:15 p.m. last evening:

(phone rings) Me: “Hello?”

Matt: “There have been 3 fights all in under 10 seconds!”

Me: “Matt?”

Matt: “Do you understand this? And we’re already up 1-0!”

Me: “Do me a favor and turn off the radio…”

This morning, 1:45 a.m.

Matt: “Two short handed goals…”

This morning, 6:45 a.m.

Matt: “Two short handed goals and three fights in ten seconds….”

Me: “I GET IT, I GET IT!”

Matt: “Promise me we’ll have tickets to the next Pens/Flyers game. PROMISE ME.”

Me: “I promise, I promise!!!”

Matt: “Three fights in 10 seconds……”