...Just fucking peachy as happy balls.

...My spontenaeity got the best of me when a volunteer from the Bloodmobile came up to our classroom during fourth period, pleading for those with enough stomach to come down and give a pint to save a life.

...My instantaeous reaction, upon imagining the economy-sized sharp and shiny point, which since childhood had been the cause of my hiding under the bedsheets on doctor days, sucking at my lifeliquid was:

"...Blood, you say? ...Sorry ma'am... I'm fresh out."

Missing sixth period was more appealing at that moment, though, so I grabbed Friend-Lisandra and without much question, walked out the doors to the Blood-Bus.

It was a weird first experience. Seeing so much of my own black blood, all wrapped up in it's neat and tiny little package was really... dunno... cool.

I'm not the squeamish type; I watch brain surgery on TLC with and have been blindly/lovingly referred to Rotten.com on a few occasions, nor am I massachistic or homocidal, but blood really is... Cool.

...Though I like it best inside my body.

So yeah. The first mistake I make upon leaving is hoisting up the sixteen pounds of textbooks neatly secured in my Vash-The-Stampede backpack up too quickly, and the second being maintaining a brisk walk back to class so as to drop off my assignments before the school bell rings.

3 yards away: I'm feeling a bit tipsy.

4 yards... I begin to feel buzzed and try to sit down. I can't really describe the feeling. ...it was like an alternating mixture of fatigue and nausea, more fatigue than anything. I kind of stagger onto the next bus, and give a little wave, and they hoist me onto the Postur-pedic type-looking bed.

...A whiff of alcohol, can of pepsi, and ten minutes of my time later, I'm outta there. Bada Bing, bada boom.

...Feeling like a million bucks.

...

...Or at least five.

...Stephy's Happy Quote-O-fun~

"Even if you're paranoid.. maybe they really are after you." -Be afraid... very afraid.