Bouldering, writing, and a cappella

Hello, friends. Sorry that I've been so sporadic about blogging; it's just that every time I sit down to write a post, I write a few lines, laugh at their corniness, and then shut off my computer. Despite my recent ineptness at blogging, progress on my novel is going really well (you know that one novel that I never mentioned in my posts? Yep. That one) and I'm at the proud landmark of 35,707 words. I started this novel in September and have not yet tired of it. For some reason, this one is so much fun to write and makes me laugh out loud and cry, sometimes at the same time (yes, I know I'm the author. That's beside the point). I wish I could tell you what it's about, but apparently it's not a good idea to put unlicensed material on the Internets for billions of eyes to see if one is planning on publishing it. (I know, right? Who would've thought?)
I have also become addicted to bouldering. In case you don't know what that is (and truthfully, a month ago I didn't either), it's rock-climbing in a  gym without a harness. It's dangerous, extremely difficult, and covers one's hands with perpetual calluses and blisters, but it's just about the most fun way to work out I have ever tried. The possibilities for creativity are endless: you can pretend you're a super-spy, trying to escape a flood, or were raised by apes. Personally I prefer the first option, since it's a little less stressful.
Anyways, these past few weeks, I have been going to a cappella club. I had a Great Plan that I would try out for the "Breakfast at Tiffany's" solo tonight, so I got all excited. However, when I arrived tonight they informed everyone that they'd cut one song out of the three for the concert. Out of "F* You," "Stand By Me," and "Breakfast at Tiffany's," guess which one they cut?
Yeah....
I would gladly have tried out for "F* You" if only they'd used the radio version--I mean, the range is perfect!--only, I don't swear. I still don't understand why it's cool to drop the F-bomb repeatedly throughout a song, but it's okay. They said that we'd sing "Breakfast at Tiffany's" later in the quarter, so I still have my hopes up for that shiny, beautiful solo! Eventually. For now, I'm just going to have to OooOoooO to my heart's content (gotta love altos). And even though I didn't get to try out, I was planning on it. That's pretty huge for me, the girl who won't sing in the shower for fear of someone overhearing. So that's something, I suppose.
I also am going to try to give blood tomorrow for the first time in a year, and then I'm planning on going bouldering after that, which may or may not be a good idea. Let's see what happens.

Blood Drive

This week, there was an event at school that made me even more nervous than musical tryouts. No, it was not finals, Prom Week, or April Fools (aka Day of Shameless Mockery of Gullible People). Nope. This week, my school hosted a blood drive. Now, last time I gave blood I almost fainted--the world turned a shade lighter than black, and only a sugary soda could redeem me from my pitiful state. As you might imagine, that was both humiliating and scary. Nevertheless, I signed up to donate again this year and, when my number was called, nervously made my way to a station. My iron levels were good (thanks to my vitamin supplements!), and I was perfect to donate! Except. Except. Except it turned out I had been to a "malaria-risk area" in the past 12 months (no, it wasn't my neighbor's swimming pool, but thanks for your concern). It was--drum roll please!--rural Guatemala! Duh-duh-duh-duh! So with a Band-Aid adorning my now uselessly-pricked finger, I signed a statement, pledging that I would not try to give blood until June 24th, 2011. Which happens to be when I'll most likely be in Guatemala again. Do you know what this means, people? I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO GIVE BLOOD AGAIN UNTIL THE END OF THE WORLD! (The end of the world=2012, for those of you without pocket Mayan calenders.) Hem. Sorry about that. I'm a bit--cough cough--melodramatic at times. Oddly enough, I was almost darkly happy that I couldn't give blood yesterday. I was blacklisted. It was like being on a watch list. (Just kidding. But it was a little fun signing that paper, in a weird sort of way.) Aside from all that, I was tempted to be severely disappointed that I couldn't donate. That's 24 MONTHS (aka 36 LIVES) that I could have saved! Talk about insta-depression. But I refused to wallow in sadness and have a two-year-long pity party (although, it's tempting. If I change my mind, would you mind bringing the emo music and headless gummy bears?). After all, the very reason I couldn't donate was because I had done something AWESOME like going to Guatemala and been serving God! When I thought about it, I realized that my church delivered 206 water filters to rural Guatemalan villages (not to mention the medical and dental services they provided free of charge). Compared to the aid--both physical and spiritual--we gave to the Guatemalans, the blood I could have donated didn't quite stack up. That's not to say that I don't think giving blood is important (because it is!), but that I had been called to do something different and shouldn't be disheartened by what I can't do. So, whether you can sit down for an hour or so and donate blood, spend a month in a third-world country, or whatever else, go out and do it! And be happy! This sort of reminded me of a Bible verse that goes, "For as the body is one and has many members, but all the members of that one body, being many, are one body, so also is Christ" (1 Corinthians 12:12). Be happy and inspired, yo!