Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.

Monday, June 07, 2004


In a sweet bit of luck, our stupidly complex system of making a PowerPoint presentation, in which we have to beg one of the computer guys downstairs burn to us a disc, has fallen apart--he's busy getting everyone converted over to Microsoft Office--so didn't get to our stuff in time for the meeting. Ooops. Shucks.

But bad for us means CONTENT FOR YOU! You say, "Hey, didn't you mention earlier about going and having your blood all drained out?" and I say, "Thanks for remembering!"

Got a call Friday wanting me to come in and donate (unlike the Aardvark, who donates platelets--platelets are those little plates that come with Easy Bake ovens--I give whole blood) and so I set it up for lunchtime today, hoping that I wouldn't get the runaround like I usually do.

Got out of here late, and made a mad dash down 22nd Street and up the hill to Ridge Park, and signed in ten minutes late. Oh no. As expected, it took them another twenty minutes to come get me, even though I could hear them chattering and gossiping just around the corner.

Luckily, it was the lady who reminds me of Piper Laurie (the mature version, not the young version). She is the ONLY one up there who has been able to stick a needle in my arm without it hurting. Which is good, because today she seemed to be having trouble and had to stick me THREE STINKIN' TIMES to get the vein. Anyone else and I would have been acting like a big baby. Which would have been so unseemly, seeing as how there was a very attractive college girl next to me.

However, the combined effects of my hypertension, nervousness over the ongoing arm-gouging, and the presence of firm, tan, co-ed legs and red painted toenails on my neighbor did have a happy consequence--I filled that collection bag up in NO time! The girl beside me was in the chair when I got there and had already been hooked up to a bag, but they unhooked us at the same time. Blood was just a'SHOOTING out of my arm.

Over and done with, and was even happier to see they had gotten my messages about the snacks in the canteen--Famous Amos Chocolate Chip Cookies! Mmmmm. Sugar! Butter! Flour! Chocolate chips!

And, of course, a Diet Coke.

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