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Saturday, May 10, 2003
There was a blood drive at work today... I had the day off, but I went in to donate, partly because we'd be paid for our time there, and partly because (unless I've been misinformed) I'm O- so I should try to donate anyway.

I went into the Bloodmobile and filled out the paperwork. They pricked my finger and tested my blood to see if my iron was all right, and it was, so they told me to go to a cot and they'd get me started. This chick swabbed my arm with iodine and betadine and then she pricked my arm with the needle and I was trying to ignore it. She gave me some paper towels to squeeze and told me to squeeze my fist every few seconds to keep the blood flow going and then they gave me a cup of juice. I lay there reading the book I'd brought, not paying terribly much attention to the needle in my arm, just squeezing the towels every few seconds. And then the woman was hooking up someone in the cot across from mine, and she looked at my sack o' blood and told me I was almost done.

Then something went wrong, apparently, and my blood was coming really slowly... they tried to reposition my arm, and then they dug around with the needle a bit and it hurt a lot and the blood never really came out any faster. They said there must have been tissue in the needle. >.< They unhooked me and bandaged my arm with some gauze and a band-aid. I asked them whether they could use the blood at all, and they said no, because it wasn't a whole pint. >.< So I gave all this blood and they can't even use it.

The woman brought me a packet of peanut butter crackers and then I was free to go. I drove to Wendy's and picked up some food, then came home and ate it. Thought about doing some of the shit I need to get done, so I checked my to-do list and saw that I was supposed to do bathroom laundry today. I'd started some of that last night, so I went to bring it upstairs and fold it, but I was too tired. I remember thinking "damn, I can't be this weak just from them taking my blood..." I put down the laundry basket and lay down on my bed, stuck on The Fast and the Furious, and then I fell asleep. Woke up when I heard the tape shut off and start rewinding, so I turned off the TV and went back to sleep. Had some more weird dreams.

I didn't get up until nearly midnight. Now I don't know if I'll be able to sleep anymore tonight, and I work at 8, so this might be a bit of a problem.

Thursday, May 08, 2003
Jury duty's done. I did get picked for a trial, but it was quick and only took a day and a half. Dumb trial -- I guess I can talk about it now, so -- this guy got rear-ended in 1996 and had some back problems. They seemed to have gone away in '99, he's been pain-free since then, but he's suing the guy who hit him for "pain and suffering." Didn't take us long to reach a verdict. The whole thing wasn't quite as bad as I had been led to believe, except for the fact that I had to miss two days of work, but apparently I can still get paid for some of the time I missed if I turn in the slip I got for being there.

I got all dressed up today, simply because I could. I was wearing this kick ass long black skirt with brown flowers on it, a brown tank top, my black sort-of-emo cardigan thing, and black tights. And I finally figured out how to use my styling wax stuff, so my hair looked pretty good too. I wore this pair of shoes I appropriated from Rose that have about a two-inch heel on them. I was all tall and for once I was loving it. Don't know why. I just was.

I got out, got paid ($9 a day plus, I think, 17 cents per mile for travel), and then I wandered around downtown some more. It's amazing how long I've been in Pittsburgh and not really ever been downtown. I mean I've been there, but never really looked at what's around. So it was really rather creepy when I turned a corner and found myself looking at this building I'd dreamt of before. It looked the same, right down to the letters above the door and the building beside it. Really, really weird. I swear I'd never seen the place in real life.

Tuesday, May 06, 2003
I have to report for jury duty tomorrow. I report at 8:30. The summons says that "the use of public transportation is encouraged" and I'm sure as hell not driving downtown, so I tracked down a schedule for the HP Flyer, the bus that runs along Rt. 286 (walking distance from my house). Oddly enough, none of the places along 286 actually had a schedule for the bus, so I ended up driving out to the mall and finding one there.

Well, since the Pittsburgh Port Authority is impossible to deal with, I can't make heads or tails of the schedule. Ended up looking online, which makes a hell of a lot more sense and makes me wonder why I bothered going all the way out to the mall (even if I did score a hot new pair of shoes).

So, with the help of the Port Authority website, I've found a few options. I could take the HP Flyer, which leaves the stop near my house at 7:06 and gets me to a few blocks from where I need to be at 8:01. Or I could get up ungodly early tomorrow morning so I can drive out to my grandparents' house, leave my car there, and take a 61B, which stops near their house at 7:26 or 7:42 and will (in theory) get me to the court building at 7:55 or 8:11, respectively, or a 61A (7:41 - 8:10). But I don't trust the times on the schedules. The 61s hardly ever seem to be on time, and the HP Flyer comes less regularly so if I miss it, I'll be late and that would be bad. And the HP Flyer doesn't stop right by the building like the 61s do, so I would still have to wander a few blocks and I'm not 100% sure where I'm going.

It's looking like an early-morning ride into Squirrel Hill (avoiding traffic, I hope) and taking a 61.

Sigh.

I would go spend the night at my grandparents' but it appears that Mollie and the stepdad are at one another's throats and I'm not terribly eager to leave them alone lest anything happen.

Monday, May 05, 2003
What, exactly, does Bill McFuckingCreary have against Pennsylvania hockey teams? It seems like every time he works a Pens game, the Pens get screwed over -- called for shit penalties, etc. And I've noticed, in this Philly/Fucking Ottawa series, a whole lot of calls going in the Sens Assholes' favor when he's the ref.

So tonight. Game six. If Philly loses, they're out and Ottawa advances, playing Jersey in what would promise to be the Most Boring Eastern Conference Finals Ever.

And who's the ref? Of course it's McCreary.

And, for some reason I absolutely cannot imagine, Philly's been called for a lot of bullshit penalties while I think Ottawa's had one.

This kind of shit makes me want to kill.

things it would be really good if I could get done tomorrow:

- go to the Dunham's that's opening up in Monroeville and apply for a job
- take that bag of stuff to Goodwill
- call those people from the "roommate wanted" ads in the City Paper
- go to the post office and mail that chick's Living Dead doll
- make ebay auctions
- clean my fucking bedroom

Sunday, May 04, 2003
WHY WON'T THE FREAKING TITLE WORK????? *punts*