Drips

I donated blood today. My first time too.
At first for some weird reason I was a bit scared. For one, a needle is going inside me, taking out blood, which is going out of my body. It was just terrifying to even think of when I give out blood samples when I am at the doctor's.
So Rosie and I walked straight into the student center as soon as we were done with breakouts, hoping to get the whole draining of blood over with as quick as possible. Our appointment was at 12:15, so getting there early would mean us getting out early right?
Wrong, we had to wait for the people in charge of the blood drive to direct us where we needed to go. We walked straight from one station to another, interrogated, pricked on our middle fingers to check iron levels, and finally motioned to lay down and begin the drainage.
My blood pressure was surprisingly low, lower than 120 beats when it was stolic, and less than 80 when it was diastolic.
I think the only time it really hurt was when the needle went into my arm. The constant squeezing of the tiny heart in my hand kept me from thinking about anything that was going on. And I wanted to honestly sleep on that flat bed, it wasn't comfortable or anything like that, I was just really tired.
It was all over in a matter of minutes. And the woman that took my blood even let me hold it and take a picture with it. I smiled from ear to ear and posted the pic on my tumblr. I really felt accomplished.
But now, I am sporting a minor headache, and water is filling my gut to the point that I feel like I am going to pop like a cell does when it has too much water in it (I think that's called hypotonic, thank you biology for being useful... sometimes).
Would I do it again? Would I give blood to save three more lives?
Yes, even if it gives me a huge headache. Because of this reason and this reason alone: There may come a time when I'll be needing someone else's blood, and I hope there are other selfless people out there to scratch my back when I need it.
Plus, they give out free food and a t shirt afterwards. And I love free stuff. :P

C.O.D.B.O.

Fuck yes Jorgie and I have that game. He is beyond skilled when it comes to video games. And I, well I do enjoy watching.
Well I also play. I am nowhere near his amazing mad skills but what I lack in gaming, I make up with writing, reading, and being active.
But seriously I began playing the campaign mode to begin with and it has this level of Cuba in the Bay of Pigs, and the primary objective is to assassinate Fidel Castro. Talk about knowing that you are going to fail. Well, as far as the scenery goes, the angles and the picture is crisp, so much more that M.W.2.
If anything go buy it and see for yourself.
The only thing that pesters me is the fact that you need to buy your weapons this time around along with unlocking them with every level you gain. Needless to say it is a pain, but so worth the playing.

So I started a Tumblr

Technically it's still a work in progress.
I honestly can say I do not know how to feel about it, being that I haven't done much to it, just gave it a header and a few more applications. I posted a twitter feed as well as a facebook update. But if I feel as though I will get a little annoyed with the anonymous postings. I swear if anyone asks me if I like thumb in the butt I'm disabling it.
Anyway hope to see anyone that likes to read this blog there
premeritalove.tumblr.com
I'll still keep this one updated. I just don't know what I'm getting myself into. I mean, a journal, a blogger and a tumblr? I don't even write this much!

Ten Minutes

To talk about life and post it.
Well what is there to say about life? We are born into this world, taken in by DNA from dear old mommy and daddy or the neighbor and mommy. But one way or another we're given something. A soul, many call it. A life every one says.
And then the age old question: what happens in our life? Whatever you make of it. You can be a pilot, a teacher, a garbage man collector. The options are plenty. And it all depends on what you love, versus how far you would go for attaining such a love.
Not many people realize that what they love is often confused with whom they love. Who a person loves and what a person loves to do are two completely different things. But then they show their love and nine months later, neglect and abuse are born.
And then you hopefully see them grow up to be what you could never achieve. Hope and pray they don't turn out to be like you. And then they live their lives and you never did or allow history to repeat itself. In the end it all goes down to how you raise the child. How you want to at least.
And finally, death. Sweet sweet release of depression and angst that went on in their lives. But in the end, they can look back and see what they did. Many will wish that they made different choices. While others would nod their heads and say look at all that I did in my life.
I hope I get to do that too when it comes for me to jump ship.

A man's world...

Today in Physical Education class, we got into the universal topic of men vs. women. Who was the superior race and what not. A bunch of words were thrown back and forth and it got me thinking: do I myself, wish that I was a man? Would I be more content as being a man?
Well, it's not easy being a woman. I mean you have to clean, cook, raise children, please the husband, work, be everything that many others lack. Have patience, be respectful, mindful of what you say, try to overcome in a man's world.
Would it be easier to be a man? To be overpowering on women, making babies without taking care of them? To be able to do things like stay out until the next morning because there is nothing at stake? Sure. I'm sure that it would be easier to not have to worry about putting on make up and doing my hair to look pretty and wear clothing that would attract a mate. I wouldn't even have to work hard at a relationship because when I get tired of the woman in my life, I could just get up and leave. Being a man means not having to worry about anything, except themselves. Selfish beings we all are, men and women, but the main difference is, women have to stop with the selfishness the minute life grows inside of them, because unlike a man, a child is a life brought into this world at the expense of the word love. And wishing nothing but the best is what a mother needs to do, not should do. NEEDS TO.
But deep down, no matter how easy it is to be a man, I think it's a blessing in disguise to be a woman. We have it hard, that much is true, but we also have something that man can never attain: perseverance. The strength to overcome a man in this man's world. To not just be a woman trying to survive, it's to want to live and prove that we are all equals in this world.
I am Woman, hear me roar with an intensity that shakes the very fabric of sexism.

Pride

If there is one thing I can be proud of, it would be the fact that I just overcame an obstacle of epic proportions. That's right, Biology.
I was never the sharpest tool when it came to such a subject, but I needed to apply myself or else face another failing exam. I couldn't have that on my conscience.
So, after a fun night out of trick or treating, I applied myself, reading my biology notes, memorizing formulas, terms, and numbers of ATPs. It was a tiring night, but I memorized enough for a good night's sleep.
The following morning (which was today in the morning), I arose, fresh faced and ready to continue my studying streak, jotting down quick notes to further enhance my memory about it. Breaking a sweat did not come as easily as expected. I managed to drive with precision as I swerved from lane to lane to arrive around ten minutes early to have a quick cramming session.
Then when the test was placed on my short desk handle (because I'm gonna be honest. That is not a desk. Not even close. It's just a stupid handle that cant even hold a full spiral notebook.), I recognized the questions and answered with terms that I didn't even recognize. My hand had a mind of it's own as it wrote down the formulas, the terms. And when I reached the question that demanded the citric acid cycle I wanted to punch that professor in the face. He told us not to worry about the citric acid cycle!
To say that my confidence felt shattered was an understatement. I wanted to just throw in the towel right then and there. But then something happened. I continued answering other questions that I knew about, reading one after another that demanded. I supplied.
In closing, I picked up my test, more than half of the questions answered and bid that place that is known as Cossentine Hall room 100 adieu.
My held was higher than a giraffe's.