Bloody Saturday

Thanks to Seana for an idea for my blog.

I donated blood on Saturday. My hematocrit level was at 43 and I only needed it to be at 38. Dictionary definition of hematocrit:
The percentage by volume of packed red blood cells in a given sample of blood after centrifugation. I was shocked, because in the past, I've sometimes been refused to donate due to a low blood count.

Anyway, I waited outside the bloodmobile, filled out the forms, and tasted some highly oxygenated water, that was delicious. The blood drive was sponsored by a local gas station, so they had free samples of food and snacks and a raffle for gasoline cards. I won a key chain.

The blood-letter wanted me to put my purse on the floor, but I said I didn't want it to get germs off the floor. I kept it on the couch with me. I've got great big ol' blue veins and the blood flowed fast. I asked if I could have a note saying "no hard work" for a week, but he said he'd give me a note for 24 hours.

I had some apple juice, lorna doones, oreos and fig newtons. Then I went to Kohl's for some major sale shopping. Apparentlyh I hadn't rested long enough at the bloodmobile. I needed to lie down on the floor at Kohls with my head on my purse two times, right under the bathing suits (in January, no less) because I was dizzy and thought I'd pass out. It was sort of scary. Nobody approached me on the floor to see what was wrong.

I'm not a big shopper, but I found a great herringbone jacket and a gorgeous leather jacket for me and a few Dockers shirts for Mr. Puffy: 70% off the clearance price.

Oh, I almost forgot something. As a bonus, because I donated blood, I got a coupon for a free pint of Baskin Robbins ice cream. "A Pint for a Pint" was the reason. A pint of my blood for a pint of ice cream. I also got a $10 gift card for gasoline. Not a bad haul for a pint of 0-neg.

Today's little secret

I was nervous. I was shy. I had done this with men before, but not with a woman.

She led me into her room and all I saw was the bed with the luxurious sheets. She offered me a drink. I accepted. She asked me to remove my clothes and she gave me a beautiful soft robe to put on.

I didn't know what position she wanted me in. She had an assortment of beautifu aromatic body oils. Her hands were warm and soft. The music was light and romantic. The lights were dimmed.

She started by rubbing her hands all over my body. Her expert fingers knew just where to touch. I needed her and she kneaded me. I began gasping in soft little breaths. She rolled me over. Wordlessy, she continued. Although we had never met, she knew what I wanted. She gave it to me. More and more.

Finally, she was done. My body tingled. My body was soft. I felt dizzy. She left the room and I slowly put on my robe, remembering every moment her hands were on me.

I took out my credit card, paid my bill and said "see ya next time for my massage!"

Pictures, We've Got Pictures

The picture to the left is Deb in Malibu. After a gray and drizzly Sunday morning, we had great weather the rest of the day and Monday morning. The picture to the right is just for Coco's little Philippe. This restaurant in downtown Los Angeles is about 100 years old and is supposedly where the French Dip sandwiches were originated.

Guess who's sleeping at my house?

Someone from the other place is in my house getting ready for bed right now.

Happy 2006

Happy New Year to all you bloggies out there. I thought this was a cute picture of a baby covered in New Year's confetti, so I wanted to share. We have about a zillion calories in leftover food from our New Year's Day party. I think we'll bring in leftovers to work every day to share, until they're gone, so we won't be tempted. Today we "got rid of" the entire box (minus one) of Ferrero Rocher chocolate candies. What is tempting you in your kitchen? In the kitchen, not the bedroom.