Hold this cloth so I don't get blood on your sweater...
I've been getting a ton of google hits lately. There are the string of usuals, "CalBar," "Mariska Hargitay," and "spanikopita" (which I get allthe time, no joke.) For awhile there I was coming up on the first google page for the first two, which is funny considering I talked about Mariska in half a sentence like five months ago. I'm sure this post will knock me up there again.
Then there's "blogs heather in dc bar exam." Well done, you found me. And my personal favorite: "vinyl logs." Everyone needs some.
So I managed to give blood finally. I used to go all the time in college, but then, like the rest of my life that isn't directly connected to the law or drinking, I forgot about it for awhile. I tried to give a few weeks back (the Red Cross started hounding me after Katrina), but lo and behold, the little blood drop rose up in the blue liquid. Low iron. I went back again this time, after beefing up on my spinach and cutting back the caffeine, but still! I'm not sure what it is with me and my iron count, but I clearly need to be taking mass quantities of vitamins or something. Luckily, they spun the blood (after squeezing every last drop out of my finger) and I was just above the limit. My blood guy didn't actually say what I wrote in the title, but it was the first time I'd ever had someone put a cloth on my side before he stuck me. At first I didn't realize why I was holding it there, then: ew. Splatter. Luckily there was none, though it turns out I'm quite the bleeder. I filled the pouch in less than 10 minutes and then took nearly that long for my arm to stop bleeding while I held it in the air. So, boys and girls, go give a pint, will you? It feels good to give! And stings, just a little.