2002-02-07 - 12:26 p.m.
I hate unexpected visitors ... unless they're people I like.
Unfortunately my relatives do not fall into this category.
I have a slight headache now, not only because of the presence of relatives in my home, but mainly because a woman from the Red Cross (note to self: Bad spelling day. tried to spell 'woman' with three m's) called earlier to let me know that I can donate blood tomorrow at the regular place if I so chose.
And of course, fate which is cruel allowed my mother to overhear said call. Which launched us screechingly into a now semiregular debate of whether I should give blood...
My side which consists of I'm nearly eighteen, it doesn't hurt me (well, a little, but not in the long term), it helps others and it is my blood we're arguing over.
The problem with my mother's side of it is that she is convinced that the Red Cross takes my blood and sells it to vampires.
Okay, so the last part of that sentence was just for bonus melodrama points. But she seriously believes that they drain me in order to make a profit!
Damn that twisted woman, and her need to believe things she hears on outrageous current affair shows which are probably decades old, despite her claims that it's recent.
So meanwhile I am not giving blood tomorrow, not because I agree with her stance at all, or because she is my mother and I am 'supposed' to obey her, but because I rather need my blood just now ... Maybe next time. Aren't I and people going to the Hard Rock Cafe tomorrow night? Someone let me know if that's a plan yet...
It feels as if I've been sleeping in someone else's bed lately, and I say that in a forlorn way because it is sadly not a metaphoric or even slutty statement.
I say that because my parents bought me a new mattress, despite much protest from myself. Such a waste of money ... but they wouldn't listen to me, as per usual.
I have decided that it's evil. It has this curious in a bad way new mattress smell that bugs me. Not to mention it injured me the other night. It wasn't pushed close enough to the head of the bed so as I slept my pillow started to slip down between the gap, and rather than grab it and pull it back, I (more than half asleep) kept moving up towards it until I eventually my head really hard on the wooden bedthingy.
Now have a thankfully colourless bruise on my forehead, which I keep poking and trying to locate ... and then finding and going 'ow! Yup, still a bruise' and then losing it and repeating process.
Needless to say, my stupidity is of course the fault of the new mattress ... when in doubt, lay the blame on an inatimate object and quickly change the subject.
I have developed a theory that lies said around the would-be popstar Tony Lee Scott come true. I base this on the recurring memory of how Vyv told me she had said she was a UTS student, studying design (That was her top preference that she believed she hadn't a hope of getting into ... this memory has stuck in my head merely because of the wistful expression on her face at the time) ... and a few months later Vyv was happily shocked by finding out she had gotten into said course.
Next time I'm around him remind me to casually mention how there are so many attractive, intelligent, witty guys around me that I'm fighting them off with a stick ...
Although why I would want to fight them off with a stick rather baffles me.
Unfortunately my relatives do not fall into this category.
I have a slight headache now, not only because of the presence of relatives in my home, but mainly because a woman from the Red Cross (note to self: Bad spelling day. tried to spell 'woman' with three m's) called earlier to let me know that I can donate blood tomorrow at the regular place if I so chose.
And of course, fate which is cruel allowed my mother to overhear said call. Which launched us screechingly into a now semiregular debate of whether I should give blood...
My side which consists of I'm nearly eighteen, it doesn't hurt me (well, a little, but not in the long term), it helps others and it is my blood we're arguing over.
The problem with my mother's side of it is that she is convinced that the Red Cross takes my blood and sells it to vampires.
Okay, so the last part of that sentence was just for bonus melodrama points. But she seriously believes that they drain me in order to make a profit!
Damn that twisted woman, and her need to believe things she hears on outrageous current affair shows which are probably decades old, despite her claims that it's recent.
So meanwhile I am not giving blood tomorrow, not because I agree with her stance at all, or because she is my mother and I am 'supposed' to obey her, but because I rather need my blood just now ... Maybe next time. Aren't I and people going to the Hard Rock Cafe tomorrow night? Someone let me know if that's a plan yet...
It feels as if I've been sleeping in someone else's bed lately, and I say that in a forlorn way because it is sadly not a metaphoric or even slutty statement.
I say that because my parents bought me a new mattress, despite much protest from myself. Such a waste of money ... but they wouldn't listen to me, as per usual.
I have decided that it's evil. It has this curious in a bad way new mattress smell that bugs me. Not to mention it injured me the other night. It wasn't pushed close enough to the head of the bed so as I slept my pillow started to slip down between the gap, and rather than grab it and pull it back, I (more than half asleep) kept moving up towards it until I eventually my head really hard on the wooden bedthingy.
Now have a thankfully colourless bruise on my forehead, which I keep poking and trying to locate ... and then finding and going 'ow! Yup, still a bruise' and then losing it and repeating process.
Needless to say, my stupidity is of course the fault of the new mattress ... when in doubt, lay the blame on an inatimate object and quickly change the subject.
I have developed a theory that lies said around the would-be popstar Tony Lee Scott come true. I base this on the recurring memory of how Vyv told me she had said she was a UTS student, studying design (That was her top preference that she believed she hadn't a hope of getting into ... this memory has stuck in my head merely because of the wistful expression on her face at the time) ... and a few months later Vyv was happily shocked by finding out she had gotten into said course.
Next time I'm around him remind me to casually mention how there are so many attractive, intelligent, witty guys around me that I'm fighting them off with a stick ...
Although why I would want to fight them off with a stick rather baffles me.
