Thursday, May 27, 2010


This morning I felt as though I'd punched through the clouds.  It was really just the result of a few small things like acknowledging that I wasn't ready to run a half marathon on Sunday and that I could just focus on my training for the Nike Women's Marathon in October and finishing a small project.
   For Christmas, my parents gave me a serger and a gift certificate for the Serger Essentials class at the workroom where we bought the serger and I've taken a class before.  I really like the workroom.  Karyn's done a great job creating a crafting space that has a really relaxed vibe and cool stuff (make something is her blog).  If I lived in Toronto, I'd probably be there a lot.
   Anyway, fast forward six months, and I finally find a class that works with my schedule (the serger is still in the box - please see yesterday's post for root issue). In the class I made some dinner napkins.  It was just really nice to have a project started and completed within a few hours.  Liss likes them so much she wants to send them as a birthday gift.  I want to create an entire outfit to go with them - matching skirt and kerchief. (C'mon, I know you can totally see it.)

    So this morning, I was feeling a little mellower, cutting myself some slack.  Then I go to give blood.  I feel very strongly about giving blood (I'm a registered bone marrow donor as well), and the last time I went to give, my hemoglobin was too low (not too low in health matters, but to give).  It was the same story today.  Would you be surprised that I was practically in tears because I was so disappointed and frustrated? (Note:  I am not premenstrual, but thanks for asking.)
   I chat with the nurse - all about what to do to get my iron up.  I already do those things, and my doctor has told me that my iron levels are fine.  Then I find out that the whole thing is totally SEXIST.  The hemoglobin level required of all blood donors is EXACTLY THE SAME REGARDLESS OF WHETHER THEY'RE A MAN OR A WOMAN.  125 is the benchmark number - for women, that's pretty strong (even my 118 today is good); for a man, that's low - but still okay to donate.  Wow.  Are men just that much more able to withstand a lowering, from already low levels, of their hemoglobin.  Do tell.   The nurse bristled when I suggested sexism.  I'm going to write to Canadian Blood Services about this, and if they think that physiologically men and women are the same (oh, give me a break!) then this may cause me to reconsider supporting them because they're already homophobic.  (See their policy on gay men here.)
   It's difficult because I know that donating blood is important (and if you don't do it yet, and you can - physically and psychologically - you should), but I'm tired of the rejection and the cause of it (policy, not necessarily hemoglobin).  Just to ice the anti-woman cake - if you've ever been pregnant (delivered or not), you can't give platelets - ever.
   (Did I not warn you that this could get messy?)
   So I walk, rejected, to Home Depot to meet Liss and stop in their garden center.  I'm really behind this season and need to just put in some seedlings or there will be no produce in August.  Keep in mind that I'm still in a mood at this point.  I see their veggies, under the moniker "garden fresh."  Their SKU tags say "eco" something, so I'm curious.  Are these plants free from GMOs?  I ask one of the garden center workers who, guess what, has no idea.  I don't even know that she knew what GMOs were and probably didn't understand what I meant when I said something like "Are they GMO free or is the eco tag just another example of greenwashing?"  Like I said, I was in a mood.
    I'm in a better mood know.  On my way home last night I was envying Karyn.  From this side it seems like owning your own shop where you could craft away would be great.  Of course I realize that it's a lot of work and probably stressful as well (keeping a business afloat can't be a constant picnic).  I also realized that I actually have it pretty good myself.  I'm just in my own way sometimes.  I often cause myself unnecessary stress.  I need to remind myself of this, but it's okay.  It just continues to confirm my belief that I make my own life (in general), and I need to accept responsibility for it. 
    My name is Claudia, and I'm an existentialist.

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