One Thing Off the To-do List

After three days of waiting and 14 million credit, eviction, criminal and reference checks, including past, present and future landlords and employers, Ben and I were finally approved for an apartment in Seattle! Capitol Hill to be exact.

My grandparents made a good point that maybe it's a good thing they were so thorough, meaning that everyone who lives there should be top-notch, but still...3 days? The kicker was that we have to pay an extra $100 refundable deposit because Ben only has one housing reference, which makes no sense to me. If we can't pay the rent, what will that extra $100 do? O-well, the point is we got it! And to top it off?

Our landlord is a clown.

Seriously.

He dresses up in full get-up for events such as SeaFair or Bumbershoot. Thankfully he didn't show up in full costume when he showed us the place...that would have been too much, and honestly...a little scary.

Stuck Twice

Normally I wouldn't write about something like this, but it is so comical...and typical, I just couldn't help myself. Squeamish readers beware...it's about giving blood.

A little background information is needed before I begin. First, I have A- blood, which only around 6% of the U.S. population has, making it kind of rare. I caught onto this in college, when the Red Cross called me almost every week to donate.

Also, I don't mind giving blood. I have probably donated 10-15 times and have seen the importance of donating, due to family members needing blood in critical situations. With that said, I'm not a very good blood giver. I don't get anxious, however I have either passed out or got light-headed and had to be propped back, feet up, cold rag on forehead, hand-over mouth and nose coughing, etc. on more than one occasion...okay probably 75% of the time--but I've always successfully donated. Then came yesterday.

You ever have foresight...when you just know something is going to happen? Well as I was waiting for my pre-screening at the donation site, I glanced around to see who I wanted to draw my blood and who I didn't...and then I saw her. One girl, that I knew I didn't want, but would probably get. She wasn't wearing a sign that said "I'm brand new," but she had that ora about her. The usually process followed: pre-screening, big glass of water, escorted to the bed by the nice volunteer...which bed? The newbie. The one I had picked out from the very beginning. Why do I call her the newbie? Because she flat out told me she was new. Fine. I don't care. As long as she was good.

I told her my history, that I get light-headed, which she said was fine, she'll lay me back...okay. Then she started hunting for the vein, and couldn't find one...so I switched sides, still no luck. I think my veins knew about my inclination, because the Red Cross has never had a problem finding one before. She brought over another nurse, who found one right away....great. Then apparently it went away. She called another nurse, Jim, over--he found it again...great. Then Jim squatted next to me and started asking me questions to distract me...poke...waiting...waiting, Jim and newbie switch sides, I feel the needle being moved around, Jim says he can't find it...light-headed...take it out.

Now, I know I'm a little stubborn, and I could have walked away then, but I've never not been able to donate, and the Red Cross started their old trick again, and have called me the last two weekends--Saturday morning, 9 a.m., like clockwork. So I gritted my teeth and asked Jim if he wanted to try the other arm...forget newbie. He said okay, found a vein, went through the whole process again, marking, iodine, iodine again and then...poke...nothing. Finally a third nurse came over, moved the needle around and found it.

The best part was, that I had told newbie from the beginning that I only wanted to be stuck with that damn needle once..but no, two pokes, two fiddling around with it...an hour and a half later, two bandaged arms, two cookies in the canteen and one successful A- blood donation. From now on, at least when it comes to donating blood, I'm going to trust my gut...no more newbies.

Husky Part Deux

The past couple of weeks have been filled with amazing friends and family, the most beautiful pregnant bellies in the whole world and lots of decision making. The biggest decision? It's time to become a Husky once again (not that you ever really stop). I finally made up my mind and will start school again this fall. Ben and I will pack up and head north come September, and although I am excited for our new adventure I am also sad.

I'm sad to leave Portland and will miss living with my sister and our lovely little apartment. I will miss my friends and being able to conveniently walk everywhere. I will miss weekly hot turkeys at Goose Hollow with Booie, and burger, movie, beer night at the Mission, but I know we will live in the great city of Portland with all our good friends someday again, which makes the decision a little easier.

With all of that sad, plus many more things not mentioned, I am excited to live close to my Seattle friends again, to go to Mariner games (hopefully next season will look more promising), to utilize the IMA, which I helped pay for its renovation my senior year at UW, and will be able to proudly sport my Jake Locker jersey without jeers from Oregon Duck or Beaver fans.

The move, starting school, looking for jobs, etc. will add to our already busy fall, meaning the wedding, but we are looking at it with excitement and possibility rather than stress and disappointment. If you haven't had a chance, here is the link to our wedding website: www.angelaandben.weddingwindow.com... and one more things....go dawgs!