Blame it on a rush of blood to the head.

I've been writing a lot of restaurant reviews lately on Trip Advisor.  Seems I fancy myself a food writer.  If I had the patience to become an english or journalism major, I think I'd like to do that for a living.  Every time I think about that, I immediately imagine myself as Julia Roberts in the opening scene of My Best Friend's Wedding.  Oh, that I could do it all over again.  Coulda, woulda, shoulda...

I tried giving blood today.  The Boy really wanted me to go donate with him, and I've always wanted to know my blood type.  I don't think anyone could understand how much giving blood terrifies me.  Seriously, I don't even want to do it when I have to have blood tests done.  I just hate that feeling of the needle in the middle of my arm.  Thinking about having to have it there sucking my blood away from my body for minutes at a time.....ugh.  I think it would feel like an eternity.  But I was going to give it a shot.  I don't know why I bothered because all the women in my family practically are anemic.  And what do you know, it turns out I am, as well.  I felt bad feeling so relieved when the nice woman told me that my iron count was too low.  "It's not turribly low."  But too low to donate.  Darn.  She was nice enough to type it for me, though.  Turns out I'm O+.  Just in case you guys needed to know.