18 going on...oldness

I've always loved the idea of a blog; it's like an online journal...but everyone (including random internet surfing strangers) can read it. To tell you the truth, I enjoy the idea of a hand-written journal better, but I can never bring myself to sit and consistantly write in one. It's sad cause wouldn't it be so much more awesome to hand my kids my journals and say, "My life is right in here" instead of having them peruse the internet? But alas, my short attention wins out again. I'm a much swifter typer than writer. My words per minute with a pen and paper is equivalient to a grandma with a nub trying to record her life. Yeah, it's a process.
Having this blog now almost makes me laugh. Old ladies have blogs. (Just kidding Momma!) But seriously though, when I think of blogs, I think of mothers with kids or middle-aged women who are beastly at making knick-knacks. And since I am neither of those, I feel a bit odd now a part of the blogging population. I AM a college gal now though, so I guess I am technically all growed up!
Speaking of college life.... I don't wanna go on a long tangent about classes and Utah and my dorm and my roommates and all that AGAIN. I've repeated myself enough on those topics to last a lifetime. For all of you who haven't gotten the shpill yet, I may post little sidenotes to catch you up on my life in Happy Valley in the shadow of Y Mountain. Until that point though, I give you permission to use your imagination.
Today, I saved three lives. I broke the covenant I made with myself to never give blood, and I gave a pint. The only reason I did it is because one of my roommates is on the service committee, and hardly anyone signed up to donate. So I took the bullet...or I guess the needle. I was so scared, and I don't think I have ever shook so bad in my life! The nurse-doctor people were having trouble with my blood and the needle, so they moved it around a lot while it was in my arm (hence the reason I can barely move my arm now). After a 12 minute and 52 second pumping, my arm stopped working I guess because they decided they needed to get my blood for the test tubes from my other arm, which I found out later was a "better arm" to get future blood drawn from. (Yeah, thanks for that AFTER THE FACT buddy). So I got double the pricks and pumps. It didn't hurt too bad, when they weren't repositioning the needle over and over. However, the whole process was very mentally taxing on me. I must admitt, a few tears were shed. BUT I survived and all is well! I didn't get a shirt, which would have been a bonus. On the brightside though, I got that really cool red tape-bandage thing they wrap around your arm to hold the little bandage down. Not gonna lie, I looked pretty legit.