Must be a slow news day

When I want take the political pulse of the country, I look to "Fiddy." What about you?
http://politicalticker.blogs.cnn.com/2008/03/31/50-cent-no-longer-supports-clinton/

How to be a Domestic Goddess

I have a new hero! Her name is Nigella Lawson and I want to be just like her when I grow up. I was flipping channels the other day and saw this amazing chocolate cake. I was stopped dead in my tracks because, as many of you know, I have been in search of the perfect chocolate cake recipe for years. I'm pretty sure that this cake is going to be it. So, after getting over the initial shock of how beautiful and fantastic the cake was, I noticed the woman making it. I wish I had hair like that, and although I am proud to be an American, I wish I had a British accent. OK, so I can't be Nigella, but I can always hope, right?

Do you hear what I hear?

I was having a really hard time sleeping last night because a) I flossed my teeth a little too vigorously and my gums were hurting, b) I was freezing cold, and c) I swear someone rang the doorbell at 2:30 am and then again at 5:30 am. I don't know if I am imagining this or not. When I heard it the first time, I sat up in bed and waited to hear someone else in the house stir or for another ring. Nothing. So I tried to go back to sleep but I couldn't because I was paranoid that somebody did ring the doorbell and they were doing it to see if someone would answer before they broke into the house and robbed me and my roommates of either our possesions or our virtue.

After deciding that I really didn't hear anything, I settled down and was able to sleep until 5:30 am when, ding-dong, the doorbell rang again. But this time I was really confused because I had been dreaming that I was in the living room waiting for someone to come to the house. I couldn't tell if the doorbell rang in my dream or in real life. I waited for a little while for any signs that anyone else heard it or for another ring and this time I heard my roommate getting up. Maybe she heard it, I was thinking. But then I heard her alarm and figured that she must have been awakened by that. I guess I'll never know if the ringing doorbell was real or imagined.

I did have a piece of dark chocolate last night before I went to bed, so maybe I was having chocolate-induced nightmares. Or maybe I am stressing out about my impending haircut tomorrow and the stress is manifesting itself in imagined doorbell ringings in the early hours - my stylist is placing a lot of pressure on me to cut it but I just don't know. I've grown attached to my long hair, or rather it to me, and don't know if I'm ready to part ways quite yet. Or maybe it really happened, in which case I'm even more scared. I don't know if I can sleep in my house tonight, can I sleep in your's?

Should I cut my hair into a cute, little a-line bob, a la Posh but not as short and stringy, or leave the luscious locks as they are? I want to hear your opinions, America. Post a comment - I'm not sure I'll be swayed by anyone's opinion, but I want to know what people think.

Medical Mysteries

My friend Mal pointed out that a lot of people blog about their medical problems. Personally, she thinks it is TMI. Personally, I think it is funny. If someone blogs about how they got cancer and are now a 5-year cancer survivor, of course I don't think it's funny. I do, however, think it's funny when people blog about the pinched nerves in their neck and that they had to cut their hair because of it.

There won't be any crossing the line into TMI with this blog, just some helpful suggestions for all of my fellow anemic peeps out there.

The Red Cross calls me to donate blood every 8 weeks exactly. I always say yes because I feel like donating blood is something I can do to help keep the blood supply healthy and disease-free. But then one day, I got a call and I felt irritated because the lady asking me to donate acted like she just expected me to say yes because I always say yes. In my anger, I told her that I wasn't going to be able to donate at this time. So she reminded me that my blood has been classified as being so clean and pure that it can be used for babies, and that one pint of my blood could save up to 4 babies. She used emotional manipulation to get me to consent to donating again and ever since then I have to do it "for the babies."

My eligibility date came up again last week, so I decided to beat the Red Cross to the punch and go to the donation center of my own accord before they called me. Everything was going OK until, during the screening, I was asked if I was still a female and still caucasian.
"Um, what? Yeah, unless something happened since the last time I looked in the mirror, I was still me and not Michael Jackson (he's starting with the man in the mirror)."

Just in case you're wondering, they don't like sarcastic answers at the Red Cross, which makes me remember my friend Bob's* experience at the plasma center:
"I can get AIDS by having sex with a prostitute."
"Um, OK"
"I can get AIDS by having sex with a prostitute."
"Yeah, I know."
"True or False? I can get AIDS by having sex with a prostitute!!!"
"TRUE!"

Anyway... all of my tests came up great except that my hematocrit (measures proportion of blood volume occupied by red blood cells) was too low. I got "rejected" as a blood donor, and they sent me home with a paper that has all sorts of information on anemia and how you can fix it. I felt like such a failure... 4 babies might die because I'm anemic! I had to do something, and I had to do it quick.

One of the suggestions was to increase the amount of iron intake through red meat, green-leafy vegetables, vitamin C and iron supplements. I thought I was eating enough of the important things, but I decided to increase it by eating a lot of spinach. Did you know you can blend spinach into almost anything and you can't taste it? It might look like vomit, but it sure doesn't taste like it. So, I have developed some original and tasty smoothies that incorporate spinach. Here's the recipe to my favorite:

Strawberry-Spinach Smoothie Supreme

1/2 c. pineapple juice
1/2 banana
4-5 strawberries, cut up
1 c. crushed ice
2 c. spinach

Blend all of the ingredients, except for the spinach, until smooth. With the blender still running, add spinach in small increments until completely blended. I've never tried it, but you could probably add protein powder if you wanted to make a meal out of it.

I was deferred for 2 weeks, so I'm trying to increase my hematocrit so I can go back.

"Hang on, babies! I'm coming to save you... next week."

* Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Not what you think it is

This article does not appear to be what it says it's about. When I saw this headline: "Insight into on/off switch for cells" I thought I was missing something because my cell phone has an on/off switch. I didn't know that was big news these days. Here's the article http://health.msn.com/health-topics/cancer/articlepage.aspx?cp-documentid=100198821&GT1=31025

Ring of Fire

This could be a really long story, but I'm going to make it short. My mom inherited a ring from my dad's grandmother and that thing was a piece of junk. Grandma Forsythe had 4 husbands (don't ask) and this ring was given to her by husband #3, but husband #4 was a drunk and he needed some money for booze so he had the ring cut off of her finger, the diamond pried out, and then he pawned it. He sounds like a real winner. Thankfully, I'm not related to husband #4. So anyway... my mom gets this great idea that she wants to have the ring restored because it has all of this history and it really has the potential to be a beautiful ring. Stay with me here. So flash forward to last week. As I was visiting my mom and dad in LA, my mom hands me the nasty ring + her own wedding ring and tells me to take it to the jeweler that "did such a nice job" fixing up a ring I had inherited from my grandma. Alright, I can do that - provided my mom pays for it.

So I get back to Provo and go up to the mall after work to get this taken care of. I was kind of dreading it because, although this woman does great work, she sure does talk a lot. I was in a hurry. I tried to make it quick, but Tha Him (uh huh, that's her name - she's Asian) had different plans. First, she wants to make me her apprentice jeweler because I have a good eye. She said that I could make a lot of money doing it. I declined and told her that I already have a job, but if it didn't work out I'd come see her. Second, she asks me when I'm getting married because she wants to design my ring for me. I told her I was working on it and she'll be the one I come see when my "special day" comes. Here's where the story gets good...

"What you doing?" she says.

"Um, the normal stuff I guess."

"No, I mean how you dating."

"Well, the usual way."

She leans forward, looks around, and says "to be perfect honest with you..." and here is where I get scared, thinking she's going to tell me that I'm terribly ugly and rude and that is why I am not yet married.

So she continues, "I met my husband on ldssingles.com. Are you on there?"

"No. I had a bad experience with online dating."

"Oh, here what you do. You have to email for long time and then talk on the phone. And then when you ready to meet, meet in public place and have someone go with you and hide in corner. That way they can rescue you. And then, if you find out they lie, you order biggest, most expensive meal on menu and don't eat any of it. Tell them that you sick and leave with your friend in the corner, and then go home and write all sorts of bad stuff about them on the Internet, like you lie about how you look. You should use a picture of what you really like."

"Uh, well, sounds complicated. I think I'll just keep doin' what I'm doin'."

"No. I will help you. When you come in next time, we set up profile. I get you married to doctor or lawyer or someone really rich. My husband a doctor - he a chiropractor."

"Oh, so that's why you have a table in your jewelry shop."

"Yeah, you want adjustment? He come here and do it for you."

"I'll pass."

"For real, you come in next time and I do profile. I know exactly how to do it. All my friend ask me to do for them."

"OK, I'll think about it. See you next week."

So guess where I'm going after work? Yep, the jewelery shop. Am I going to have her set up a profile for me on ldssingles.com? Nope. But it sure will be fun to hear what she has to say.

*** UPDATE ***

Tha (pronounced "Tah") called to let me know the ring won't be ready until next week because she has to order a special laser to do the hand engraving. She called me "Hon."

For the Fella who has it all...

I saw this hilarious advertisement yesterday in a magazine for "The Cigar Holder" for the "Fella who has it all." I guess if you are a fella who has it all, the only thing left to get would be a cigar holder that grips to almost any surface. So it wasn't the actual product that was funny... if you smoke cigars while you're out on the golf course, sailing the high seas, or relaxing by the pool I can see how it could come in handy. What got me was the picture. At the top of the ad, there was a stuffy looking guy in a tuxedo, looking straight at the camera (kinda scarily, I might add), wearing a monocle. Hilarious! Get a "Good Grip" on the "Good Life!" Who writes that crap?

In other news, I had a dream about Edward Cullen from the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. I'm not sure how that happened or where that came from, but maybe it's because it was so hot in my bedroom last night that I was wishing I had an ice-cold, rock-hard, vampire boyfriend to keep me cold at night. Or maybe I was thinking about how pathetic it is that the best books I've read in the last year have been written for 14 year-old girls. And I'm really looking forward to the next installment in the series and an upcoming movie. I wouldn't have chosen the kid who played Cedric Diggory in Harry Potter to play Edward in the upcoming movie. It's official, I need a life.

Am I really doing this?

Everyone's doing it, so I guess I should. Right? I'm not really sure how all of this works, but all of my friends post cute stories about their kids or their pets. Since I have neither, I'll post a funny story about my nephew.

I was visiting my family in Los Angeles last weekend and spent a lot of time with my future stand-up comdedian nephew. He was walking out of the kitchen mumbling to himself something like this..."my grandma has diarrhea, my aunt has diarrhea, my dog has diarrhea..." and then he looks up at me and says, "do you have diarrhea, too?" I responded "no, I'm good." And then he kept walking, listing all of the people he knows who have diarrhea. I'm not so sure he knows what diarrhea is because everyone he knows, including pets, has it. What on earth goes through his little 4 year-old mind?

So now that I've posted the mandatory kid/pet story, I'll tell you about my awesome new job. Most of you know that I recently made a career move into Public Relations. It was everything I hoped it would be until last Friday. I sent an email to an editor at Magazine Which Should Not be Named, asking a question about a particular column. I got this response:

"Dear Madden,

The column you are asking about has been discontinued and was replaced by BTW 6 months ago. If you had bothered to pick up a copy of our magazine, you would have known that. So here's a tip for the future: read the magazine before you bother me with any questions.

Thx.

Hero"

What? Madden? I didn't know that he and I were tight like that. And then I looked at his signature... his last name was Scottie. I called him Scottie. I totally offended him! But, if you live in America and your name is Hero Scottie someone is going to get confused and call you Scottie. You just need to accept and move on. The End.