Chrysoprasic
Apr. 3rd, 2004 04:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thrihyrne“Fascinating!” she says in her best Mr. Spock voice (Dr. Spock being the American guy into child psychology). Two absolutely fabulous days in a row! A girl could get used to this.
I was going to write all of my errands down in beautiful poetic verbiage (my love for a friend gushing forth in green ink; my heartbeat re-echoing in my stride while running, being serenaded by a symphony of lawnmowers; lilac gossamer strands winging their way to licia, fly north!) and then explain them in more mundane ways. But I changed my mind. Here are some of a few of the multitudinous reasons why today is sublime, part deux:
~ I made a beautiful thank you card for my friend Amy (not as gorgeous as the ones you make,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jensa, but I think you would approve) for some earrings she got for me at a convention she recently attended when she did a presentation on Tolkien in music.
~ I packaged uplicia_north’s little prezzie. Sadly, it did not get mailed, but it travelled around Nashville with me and will be posted on Monday.
~ I got in a good 4-mile run. I was berating myself the whole time about being a washed-up, no longer creative fanfiction writer, but I’ve gotten over that now.
~ I went and gave blood at the Red Cross. And my iron level was 40! Not 38, not 37 (the cut off; you have to have higher than average iron to be able to donate since you’ll be a pint short for a few days until your body readjusts), and not 34 or so, when I’ve failed abysmally and have gotten worried looks from the folks there. I am an anti-vampire. I LOVE giving blood. That probably sounds really odd, but both my mom and sister pass out, and despite being pretty close to the weight limit, I’ve never had any problems donating, even if I’ve missed meals (which happened when I’d donate in college). So I feel it’s my obligation- and I enjoy it, to boot. As of today, at age 34, I’m a 43 pint donor. That’s 5 gallons and 3 pints. (for those of you in the U.S., just think of the gallon milk jugs!) I really hated it recently when I kept failing the iron test, both because I felt like a loser, but also because I couldn’t figure out why. I was passing when I was a vegetarian, then for a year straight I failed. Every time. I finally realized that in college and shortly afterward, when most of my meals were breakfast cereal (I’m not big on variety), I kept passing because I was eating iron-fortified cereal. I got really, really upset when I would fail the iron test even when I was taking vitamins AND iron tablets (which I do now). Just prone toward anemia, I suppose. I get all giddy thinking that after I’ve given a pint, my body will make new blood, so I don’t have the same old blood traversing through my veins. And all that without the messy side-effects that can be incurred if one were in a car accident, in which one might also surrender a pint of blood, or more. Plus they give you stuff. Diet coke, chocolate brownies that I can give to Mr. Thev, and my blood type (B+) is relatively rare in this part of the world (12% of the population, I believe). I just love giving blood. I actually sat in the chair and let out a whoop when I got my iron count. I’m such a dork.
~ Went to the Ladies of Charity thrift shop after the successful sojourn to the Red Cross and while I did spend $99, I came home with 11 new pieces of clothing. I’m a terrible shopper unless I’m at thrift or consignment stores. Not to bore you since you can’t see the clothes, but I got a really cool giraffe-skin-print SUIT (an actual work suit) for $25, several very work-appropriate tops, an exceptionally utilitarian long black skirt, two fun pair of patterned pants, and an absolutely gorgeous cut-on-the-bias butter yellow-print dress originally bought at Ann Taylor, sold to me for $15. It is stunning. Now I can go through my closet and take out the clothes that I feel most dorkish wearing, even if they are vintage and lovely. If they don’t fit, they’re history.
Wow. I reckon that’s enough. I have a to-do list and I’ve checked off at least half of the items, and the rest I can do tomorrow: cutting out pants/top suit out of some vibrant purple/gold plaid fabric that I bought last fall; writing a letter to my grandparents (yesterday, before going to work, I wrote both my sister and my youngest stepsister; I’m terrible on the phone, but I love writing letters); maybe writing, but we’ll see (I do have a vision for Ron’s appearance at his roasting [see,romanticalgirl, I haven’t abandoned you and the twins!]; repotting a plant; and finishing At Swim, Two Boys. I was reading it last night with a dictionary at my side. I swear, I’m having a flashback to reading Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco. Jamie O’Neill uses heaps of obscure words that aren’t in my *expletive* dictionary and it makes me cranky. I want to expand my vocabulary. I hate it when there’s an obviously uniquely appropriate word/adjective/verb permutation that has been used and I CAN’T FIGURE OUT WHAT IT IS.
Maybe I’m just a washed-up Siren.
Though I don’t know who I would be tempting.
Off to check my LJ (I’m doing this entry offline) because I think two friends are battling over some Biblical imagery I referenced in a brief attempt at poetry Friday afternoon.
**sings along with Sarah McLachlan and ‘Building a Mystery’ from Jen’s R/S CD that she sent, realizing that I’m going to lose an hour of sleep tonight, springing forward and all that before Palm Sunday. (oh, and BTW, llembas
Blessings to you all. I fully expect to be hit by a bus or something tomorrow. I haven’t felt this good in ages. :D :D :D
I was going to write all of my errands down in beautiful poetic verbiage (my love for a friend gushing forth in green ink; my heartbeat re-echoing in my stride while running, being serenaded by a symphony of lawnmowers; lilac gossamer strands winging their way to licia, fly north!) and then explain them in more mundane ways. But I changed my mind. Here are some of a few of the multitudinous reasons why today is sublime, part deux:
~ I made a beautiful thank you card for my friend Amy (not as gorgeous as the ones you make,
jensa, but I think you would approve) for some earrings she got for me at a convention she recently attended when she did a presentation on Tolkien in music.~ I packaged up
licia_north’s little prezzie. Sadly, it did not get mailed, but it travelled around Nashville with me and will be posted on Monday.~ I got in a good 4-mile run. I was berating myself the whole time about being a washed-up, no longer creative fanfiction writer, but I’ve gotten over that now.
~ I went and gave blood at the Red Cross. And my iron level was 40! Not 38, not 37 (the cut off; you have to have higher than average iron to be able to donate since you’ll be a pint short for a few days until your body readjusts), and not 34 or so, when I’ve failed abysmally and have gotten worried looks from the folks there. I am an anti-vampire. I LOVE giving blood. That probably sounds really odd, but both my mom and sister pass out, and despite being pretty close to the weight limit, I’ve never had any problems donating, even if I’ve missed meals (which happened when I’d donate in college). So I feel it’s my obligation- and I enjoy it, to boot. As of today, at age 34, I’m a 43 pint donor. That’s 5 gallons and 3 pints. (for those of you in the U.S., just think of the gallon milk jugs!) I really hated it recently when I kept failing the iron test, both because I felt like a loser, but also because I couldn’t figure out why. I was passing when I was a vegetarian, then for a year straight I failed. Every time. I finally realized that in college and shortly afterward, when most of my meals were breakfast cereal (I’m not big on variety), I kept passing because I was eating iron-fortified cereal. I got really, really upset when I would fail the iron test even when I was taking vitamins AND iron tablets (which I do now). Just prone toward anemia, I suppose. I get all giddy thinking that after I’ve given a pint, my body will make new blood, so I don’t have the same old blood traversing through my veins. And all that without the messy side-effects that can be incurred if one were in a car accident, in which one might also surrender a pint of blood, or more. Plus they give you stuff. Diet coke, chocolate brownies that I can give to Mr. Thev, and my blood type (B+) is relatively rare in this part of the world (12% of the population, I believe). I just love giving blood. I actually sat in the chair and let out a whoop when I got my iron count. I’m such a dork.
~ Went to the Ladies of Charity thrift shop after the successful sojourn to the Red Cross and while I did spend $99, I came home with 11 new pieces of clothing. I’m a terrible shopper unless I’m at thrift or consignment stores. Not to bore you since you can’t see the clothes, but I got a really cool giraffe-skin-print SUIT (an actual work suit) for $25, several very work-appropriate tops, an exceptionally utilitarian long black skirt, two fun pair of patterned pants, and an absolutely gorgeous cut-on-the-bias butter yellow-print dress originally bought at Ann Taylor, sold to me for $15. It is stunning. Now I can go through my closet and take out the clothes that I feel most dorkish wearing, even if they are vintage and lovely. If they don’t fit, they’re history.
Wow. I reckon that’s enough. I have a to-do list and I’ve checked off at least half of the items, and the rest I can do tomorrow: cutting out pants/top suit out of some vibrant purple/gold plaid fabric that I bought last fall; writing a letter to my grandparents (yesterday, before going to work, I wrote both my sister and my youngest stepsister; I’m terrible on the phone, but I love writing letters); maybe writing, but we’ll see (I do have a vision for Ron’s appearance at his roasting [see,
romanticalgirl, I haven’t abandoned you and the twins!]; repotting a plant; and finishing At Swim, Two Boys. I was reading it last night with a dictionary at my side. I swear, I’m having a flashback to reading Foucault’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco. Jamie O’Neill uses heaps of obscure words that aren’t in my *expletive* dictionary and it makes me cranky. I want to expand my vocabulary. I hate it when there’s an obviously uniquely appropriate word/adjective/verb permutation that has been used and I CAN’T FIGURE OUT WHAT IT IS. Maybe I’m just a washed-up Siren.
Though I don’t know who I would be tempting.
Off to check my LJ (I’m doing this entry offline) because I think two friends are battling over some Biblical imagery I referenced in a brief attempt at poetry Friday afternoon.
llembasBlessings to you all. I fully expect to be hit by a bus or something tomorrow. I haven’t felt this good in ages. :D :D :D
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-04-04 02:48 am (UTC)Don't the Greeks say that when the Wheel of Fortune is at it's peak, then things will probably get bleak?
(no subject)
Date: 2004-04-04 04:55 pm (UTC)I wouldn't be surprised! Fortune is fickle... but I'm doing okay so far today. No accidents yet. ;)
Nice to see you! No apologies necessary; we're all busy within our own little circles.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-04-04 05:58 am (UTC)Glad that you're having good days. Blessings back.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-04-04 04:56 pm (UTC)Hope you are well! Whenever you want to send your chapter 3 musings, let me know. No pressure; my muse has taken a vacation.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-04-04 09:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-04-04 09:46 pm (UTC)one of my largest dilemmas is whether to cart my card-making empire to Melb with me. I have hoarded so much stuff and it's everywhere, in scattered stacks of boxes, that the thought of moving it anywhere is a _bad_ one. heh. I might have to do that 'letting go' thing that ppl talk about and cull mightily...
and just to show you how st peters had such limited effect on me in so many ways, I didn't even 'get' that you were talking Eden/snakey doings, etc. pfffft. I'm such a lost cause.