Today I had to laugh at myself. Oh golly. I got CPR certified today and this is one of the only times I wish I was sexually active..well I suppose there’s more than just this one time, but for the time and purpose of this blog entry, we’ll pretend this is the only time.
I learned how to save a person, or at least how to keep them alive until medical professionals come to the scene of an unfortunate soul. I had to get down on the floor, put a plastic barrier breathing sheet over a person’s mouth, cover the unfortunate soul’s mouth completely with your mouth and breath “two short rescue breaths” until you can visibly see their lungs rise and fall twice. Then you’re supposed to do 30 compressions to the rib cage blah blah blah.
Well, because of my, um…lack of experience in the sexual category, I needless to say, had great trouble completely covering another person’s mouth with my mouth in order to save my manikin’s life. And then, I thought I could imagine Michael Ealy, or any of the guys with muscles and dreads on Madea’s shows being unconscious and I could be the one to save their lives, but that thought made me depressed cuz then their lives would be in my hands and their female friends would send me hate male if I killed them.
And then I had to stop giggling. I couldn’t believe my selfness was being trained on how to effectively do this. So what’s next? How to do other illicit activities? I think not. So I failed miserably at this and it’s all cuz I couldn’t effectively make out with my manikin. The only evidence I had that I attempted this feat was a very slobbery, still unconscious manikin.
Epic fail, Jenaya.
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