Sing to Me Country!

I know I am from California. How can I ever forget? It's the best state ever, and I love it! BUT! I have a confession to make; I'm not proud of it (being a California kid), but I can't help it! I have learned to love country music. I mean, I guess it was inevitable going to college in the south, but still, at first I thought I would fit right in because I was always the odd one out back home because I liked country music (aka Taylor Swift and Carrie Underwood). I didn't realize that it gets so much worse/better than that (depending on your view). At first I wasn't sure what to think. It was weird-no lie! They sang about the most random things! However, it soon started to grow on me. I am now a firm believer that a weird southern twang/drawl can only sound good singing a country song. Now, I like the random things they sing about; it makes the song seem more real. Because they choose specific random words it makes it seem more personal and like they picked out each word carefully, which reminds me of poetry. Hmmm. . . Sorry, I just had a great [country] song come on and play softly in my ears. That's another thing. Country music is feel good music which I love! Music should make you feel good. Whether your super sad or super happy you can listen to country music and it's like a good friend. It will comfort you and wrap you in a big southern hug. :) I think to enjoy country music the most you have to experience it the way they sing about it. Riding around in your pickup truck with the windows open and breeze on your face. This is what I did last year with my roommate and is what probably started this weird love affair I have with country music. I don't know. I have a feeling it's something about being in the south though. Like I cannot imagine going back home for Christmas break and jamming to my country playlist that I've since listened to while back at college. You know what I mean though? Like country music is great while you're actually in the country because you can relate to everything they're singing about, but if I'm driving down the highway in California I don't know if it would feel the same. Anyway, now you know my confession. Though I'm not apologizing for it. I like country music; not nearly as much as the southern sweet talking girl next door but enough. I understand if you don't like it; heck I know I didn't until I was immersed in the country culture for a year. All I ask is that if you ever find yourself stranded in the south with some person talking so strangely you have no frickin' idea what they're saying then just turn on the radio and give country music a chance. Music is a universal language so maybe country music is your link to the south.

P.S.
If you find yourself falling in love with it like an unexpected crush then you're welcome! HAHA! ;-)

xoxoxo
-GreenGirl

Give me forgiveness for not giving blood.

This is the second time it's happened, once last semester and now this week.

Everyone is donating blood. The vans are parked on front campus and students line up to give their blood and get a T-shirt. I can't. I want to, but I can't. I know I'm not the only one, but I'm pretty sure I am the only one without a valid excuse. Some were born in another country; some don't weigh enough; some have low iron or insulin and some have had a sickness or disease so they cannot partake. Not me. I am totally healthy, a little overweight and was born in the awesome USA, but yet I cannot give blood. It's not that I don't try, but I can never make it onto the vans. The same thing happened twice.  I get saddened and guilty seeing everyone wearing their T-shirts like it's their trophy proudly earned and bandages on their arms like it covers their battle wound received by saving lives.

My conscious tells me I need to give blood so I walk to the vans from my dorm. The walk is sobering as I think over my decision and make sure I want to do this. I realize it's a good cause so I keep on. I continue until I am 15 feet from the vans, lines of people and busy workers. I can't move any more. I just stand there frozen in fear. I don't know what goes on in the van. I don't know the process and if I'm honest with myself I don't want to know! I have a fear of blood and needles. They say it isn't uncommon, but it seems as if I am the only one on campus who is allowing it to get in the way of giving blood.

Oh no! A worker just spotted me. He tilts his head in my direction and walks over. "Hey you going to get in line?" he asks. "Um, ya, maybe." I manage to get out through my dry mouth. "Alright, well, the line's moving down so now is a good time." He replies with a small smile before turning around to walk away. As soon as he's far enough away and I know he's not looking I scram. I am so embarrassed! He caught me and I didn't even have the guts to tell him that I wish I could, but I was scared spitless!

Why does this happen to me? I get so mad! Why do I have to be a coward?

There was a girl I knew last year, who I found out could relate to me! She didn't like needles and blood either, and it felt great knowing that I wasn't the only not giving, but then she abandoned me! She ended up being talked into giving blood by a friend and said it was no big deal. Now she is one of the ones I try to avoid because she is the biggest pain trying to guilt me into giving (like I don't guilt myself enough)! It's not the pain I'm afraid of; it's my imagination. I can't get over my brain giving me super violent images of needles and blood and all that could go wrong and me fainting and every other hypothetical situation! I know you should just ignore all the "what ifs" but maybe there's good reason for them. I honestly don't know.

I feel like I'm just being so selfish, but at the same time I know that's not the reason I'm not giving. I want to save lives! I want to be a hero! I want to be able to say I gave blood and proudly wear the T-shirt everyone else wears, but I can't. I don't say that lightly. I know many may say "Yes, she can; she just chooses not to; she won't." But I seriously don't know if I will ever be able to make it closer than 15 feet in front of the van. This fact saddens me and makes me angry, but I have a fear. Yes, I may be dramatic and yes I may very well be overreacting, but that doesn't make it any less real.

So I am sorry. If I offend you, if I make you angry, if you need blood some day and I'm your type, but I didn't give any then I truly am sorry. But for now when I cannot give blood, forgive me. I hope someday this changes; I hope to give blood, but until then please do not have ought against me. Don’t judge; instead look into your soul to the kid you used to be. The one dreadfully afraid to go to the doctor’s to get your shots and remember how squeamish your stomach was and how bad you wanted to run away. How you wanted to kick the doctor and scream at the top of your lungs and cry. This is how I feel every time I stand in front of those white vans.