If you haven`t seen this video yet, well, you've probably been living under a rock. And that's kinda sad, except that you're reading this right now, so that means you're out from under that rock, so firstly: congratulations! That must've been hard, living under a rock! And secondly: You probably have better things to do than read this blog right now, like maybe find a new home, and take a shower. Just sayin'.

Anyway - let this video introduce you to my fodder for today:

Bloood - Not Funny!

Since Obama went and won the election today, and I'm Canadian and everything, I was thinking about the inauguration of Obama, and what I was doing that special day.

And then I remembered. And then I thought, well, okay, I'll share that story. I'm nice like that.

On inauguration day, 4 long years ago, I was working for a local design firm. We'd decided as a team that it would be a super great idea to donate blood on a regular basis. And we had been. And it was badass. Because I'm not afraid of needles! Okay, I am a little, but just enough that I get a little bit of shaky adrenaline and then I can talk myself out of being scared even though I am a little, and then I get the needle and it's this cool rush and wow I just realized I sound like a heroin addict.

I assume. I've never actually met a heroin addict, I don't think, but I imagine that's what a heroin addict would say.  Not that there's anything wrong with heroin addicts. Except the heroin part.

So anyway. The buzz you get when you donate blood is kinda cool. A little lightheaded. Kinda hungry, kinda not attached to your body.

It's kinda cool! Other than the fact that you're so totally not supposed to feel like that (who knew!). I'd learned that a 'head buzz' is not a good thing while donating blood in my previous visit when the staff at the blood clinic we were donating at asked "How are you feeling", and I responded, sounding like a hippy "gotta love the head rush, man.."

K. That's not supposed to happen. 

So this time, it's inauguration day, and I was all amped. I'd prepared myself better this time. I ate a bunch of broccoli AND spinach the night before to get my iron up, and I'd worked out all week to get the blood pumping. I'd had a full breakfast, then an apple, went easy on the caffeine and drank a boatload of water because those are all the things they said to do. I was feeling freaking magnificent. And it was inauguration day. I was going to get to watch the first African-American president be inaugurated on tv, while being a good person and donating blood. 

Who has two thumbs and is awesome? This girl!

Once I answered the oh-so-awkward survey ("Have you ever had sex in exchange for drugs or money?"), I plunked myself in one of the special chairs in the big room that held all the wonderful people donating blood, who were all facing the television playing the inauguration special. Obama was about to make his speech. We were stoked.

The flabotomist (oh yeah. I know the technical term for a vampire!) inserted the needle and away I went. Watching the tube. Totally relaxed. Thinking about how my system was going to rejuvinate and create all kinds of new healthy blood and how one day my blood would be used to help someone who was sick or injured and how life was grand (does the word 'blood' make you queasy? Blood, blood, blood.).

Obama walked up to his podium. All of a sudden I noticed that the corners of my vision seemed a little blurry. Oh, weird. The room was becoming a strange tunnel. A tunnel that was closing in on me. It was kind of a dark tunnel, and Obama's speech wasn't in English. The TV was moving further and further away. That was kind of strange. 

"Haha!" I thought to myself. "Obama is the light at the end of this tunnel."

"What the hell!" I thought to myself. "How did I get in a tunnel?"

My fingers were numb. This tunnel needed air conditioning. I was freezing to death!

I looked to my right, where my boss was racing me to see who could fill up the plastic pint-sized bag first (we later learned that it's not good to 'race' when donating blood because it means the 'winner' has higher blood pressure). He was smiling, watching the screen.

"Maybe I can telepathically tell him that I'm stuck in this tunnel." I thought. For some reason, speaking seemed like it would take way too much effort.

The telepathy didn't work. I looked to my left, where my lovely coworker was flipping through a magazine. I wiggled my eyebrows at her, and then I thought about how weird eyebrows are. 

I was falling. Falling down the tunnel. Obama was merely a squiggle on the screen, and there was a strobe light going off in my brain. 

That's when I realized that, oh crap, this wasn't a weird Quentin Tarantino flick. I was totally going to pass out. 

Inwardly, I was panicking. I was jumping up and down, waving my arms, yelling "Yooo hoo! Can someone please help me?"

Outwardly, I just sat there.

I needed help. Nurses were in the room, but I couldn't seem to catch their eye. I knew I couldn't yell, it required too much effort, and besides that, if I got a sound out, it might have been a scream. And that would've been embarrassing.

Finally a nurse walked by who looked at me. 

"I need help," I squeaked. That was exhausting. By now, the tunnel meant the world looked like how it does through a pinhole camera. I was totally going to die.

"ICE!!!!!!" yelled the nurse.

Footsteps and commotion drifted towards me, and the nurse quickly flipped me up-side down.

"Haha. This is funny." I thought to myself. "I'm upside down."

My blood began to trickle towards my head, which may have been because I was up-side down, or perhaps it was the swarm of nurses who were packing my neck, my shoulders, my wrists, my body, with ice.

They pulled the needle out of my arm and talked really loudly. I was floating on a cloud, so I don't know what was happening.

Finally, the room started to materialize around me. 

"Oh, thanks." I said, completely mortified. There were like.. 400 people in the room, all looking at me like I was a weirdo.

Okay, maybe there were like 10 people. But still. It was mortifying. I wanted to crawl under a rock (maybe the one from earlier in this post!). People, my boss was there.

Then I totally got in trouble because I should have told them that I typically get light headed when donating blood. And then I was told that none of my blood could be used now because it wasn't a full bag. And then my boss told me I was fired.

No, I made that last part up.

But then I got an extra helping of Fudgeeos and that was pretty cool.  And I got a coke, and that was cool because I really love coke.

But then I had to go back to work, and that wasn't so cool (note to employers: people who almost die should totally get the afternoon off).

So now Canadian Blood Services calls me frequently, but I'm too scared to go back in, and I avoid their calls. And then I feel like an evil person because I don't donate anymore and people could use blood.

So, wanna go donate for me? It's easy, I promise! I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Convincing, aren't I?


Whatcha talkin' 'bout Willis?