I find it extremely frustrating that this is the only reason that I’m not allowed to donate my blood for a good cause.  Someone could be dying somewhere, in need of a transfusion, and my blood could be being put to use, but instead I am turned away because I’ve “had sex with other men, at any time since 1977“.  So anyone who was gay before 1977 seems to be okay, but if you have been gay since then your blood might as well be murky oil.  Or more to the point of what they’re assuming, swimming with AIDS.

I once knew someone who had tried to donate blood and received the same results; he started referring to the problem as “GAIDS”.  Anyone gay is automatically assumed to have AIDS, and their blood can’t be taken.  It’s apparently too big a risk.  Isn’t all blood tested though anyways?  Shouldn’t the perfectly healthy people be allowed to give blood since it’s going to be tested and proved healthy?  And on  the off-chance that someone doesn’t know they’re sick, that blood will be caught in the test process and disposed of before being given to anyone else.  No blood should be given to someone in need of a transfusion without being tested, so there’s no excuse for this.  From what I’ve heard in the past, it’s that the amount of infected blood in gay donors is much higher than straight donors, so they waste money taking the blood and testing it only to have to reject it.  I might find this plausible except for one big flaw…there are plenty of infected straight donors.  Plenty.

I read through the restrictions on giving blood even after seeing the very first one on the list being the one that eliminated me.  The rest were related to drug use (sharing needles), or traveling to foreign countries.  What bothers me even more than the question that ruled out my potential donation is the lack of a question that should’ve ruled out others.  Where was the question regarding promiscuous heterosexuals?  I have been in a monogamous relationship for years, after having had a blood test in the past to confirm that I had no problems (not that I was ever wild enough in the past to contract any, but peace of mind is a very good thing), and yet I’m still considered a very high risk; on the other hand you have a heterosexual male who could’ve come to work today after hooking up with a stranger last night, who’s had more partners in the past year  than there are stars on the American flag, and he’s not even questioned about his sexual history.  Because he’s straight, he’s not considered a risk.  His lifestyle is far more prone to potential problems than mine or my partner’s, but we are ruled out because of something we can’t help, and he’s not even asked about something he willingly takes part in.  ”He” being a hypothetical figment of my frustrated imagination of course.

The point is that not every heterosexual that walks in to donate blood is a healthy and sexually responsible candidate.  But on that same token, you must also admit that not every homosexual who comes in is a promiscuous potentially hazardous risk that should be shunned.  It’s discrimination, pure and simple, and it needs to be stopped.  If you look at the statistics, black men or more likely to contract AIDS than white men, gay or straight.  Does that mean that anyone black who wishes to donate blood should be turned away at the door?  Absolutely not, and anyone who tried to put a restriction like that in place would be branded a racist.  So why is it okay to restrict based solely on sexual orientation but not on race?

It isn’t.  Things need to change, and soon.

This will be my 3rd Valentine’s Day with Keith, and we’ve never made a big deal of it.  I think the first year we got cards or something like that, but that was likely due to the fact that our relationship was still so new.  I don’t recall doing anything last year, and I know we haven’t done anything for this year.   I love him every single day of the year, none any more than the others, and I refuse to believe that I should give in to the hype and go crazy one day a year to make sure he knows how special he is to me.

When I was single, I would’ve given anything to be in a relationship on Valentine’s.  I had this fantasy that it would be amazing and romantic and there’d be flowers and dinner and soft whispers of how much we’re in love.  What I didn’t realize was that to its own extent, each day can be like that.  Every morning when Keith wakes me up as he leaves for work, he kisses me and tells me he loves me.  When I get home from work, I tell him how much I missed him and we generally talk about our day together.  If we talk on the phone, we always end the call with “I love you” not because it’s habit, but because it’s true.  I love him every day of the year, no exceptions.  There’s no reason why Valentine’s Day should make me love him even more, or feel the need to show him.  He knows I love him, I show him all year.  We go out to dinner, we do things together other times; I no longer see this one day a year as the pinnacle of romance that it’s made out to be.  I see it as what it is – another day of the year.

I was sitting outside my class about an hour ago, having arrived about 15 minutes before class started, and the door was locked.  There’s usually a class that meets in the same room right before my class meets, so it’s usually unlocked when we arrive; sometimes they’re still in there and we wait outside, but if they’ve already gone for the night we just let ourselves in and wait for the professor.  When I found the door to be locked tonight, I set my stuff down and just waited for the professor to show up.  Over the next 15 minutes, more and more people from my class showed up, and almost all of them came right up next to me by the door and tried to open it.  Then they looked baffled that it was locked.

Umm…why would I be standing outside the classroom if it was unlocked and ready for our class to come inside?  Do you think I enjoy leaning against brick walls?  Do you think I like the noisy hallway filled with obnoxious students walking around on their cell phones talking about how hard the homework was last week and where they’re going to go to drink and unwind?  No, I don’t.  I could understand if maybe you’re the first one to show up after me and maybe there is some crazy chance you don’t recognize me as the guy in the back of class who constantly asks questions because he doesn’t understand the material in the slightest.  But when 30 other students from the same class you’ve been in all semester are also standing outside, don’t presume to walk up and think you’ll be able to open the door and save us from our inability to turn a handle and apply some form of push/pull effort.

I know I get frustrated easily, but come on people!  If the door was unlocked and the classroom empty – I’d be inside!  Same principle applies at work more often that I’d like to admit.  I’ll walk up to the elevators and push the bottom to summon the magical transport device, and 5 seconds later someone else will walk up and push the same (already glowing) button again.  Did I not do it right?  Do you think the elevator is going to come any faster?  If that was the case, I would’ve pushed the button 24 times upon arrival and your ass would still be waiting in the lobby since I would already be on my ascent to my floor.  Wake up people.  Pay attention.  Stop being so ridiculously oblivious to your surroundings.  Or I’ll start kicking you in the shin.

1. When you get on an elevator and I’m the only other person already on, there is absolutely no reason why there should be any physical contact between us.  I have never been on an elevator so small that two people can’t ride comfortably without being close to each other.  Step back.  Chances are, you smell and I don’t want you rubbing up against me.
2. If you walk up to the elevator and I’m standing there waiting, and the button is glowing, you can safely assume that I did not just choose that spot randomly to hang out at.  I pushed the button and am waiting for an elevator to arrive.  There is no need for you to walk over, make eye contact with me, and push the button 7 times – it won’t make the elevator come any faster.  It will however make me step on your foot when I get off the elevator at my floor.
3. Do not listen to your voicemails on speaker-phone.  We don’t care if your spouse left you a romantic message telling you to be confident and try your hardest.  We don’t care if your stalker left a message simply of their heavy breathing.  And we don’t care if you left yourself a message reminding you not to forget your gym shorts in the bottom drawer again.  Stop being lazy and pick up the damn receiver and listen to the messages instead of inflicting them on the whole office.  Otherwise, I’m going to call you after hours and leave a message stating that we’re foreclosing your home because your last mortgage payment bounced and our research shows it was due to your excessive amount of money spent on hookers, and then I’ll laugh hysterically when you listen to that on speaker-phone the following day.
4. I don’t care how much you love your ringtone or text message alert sound, nobody else in the office does.  If we hear it once, we assume you forgot to put it on silent and we let it go by without much thought.  18 times later, I’m going to beat you over the head with a 3 hole punch.  I don’t want to hear the same sound over and over again all day long just so you can feel important that someone is text messaging you.  You’re not.  The autopsy will confirm that.
5. If a meeting starts at 2 and ends at 3, an appropriate time to show up is not 2:52.  The meeting is over.  At this point, we’re all wondering where you were, and figuring out a way to punish you for not showing up.  Your half-hearted claim that you were busy and couldn’t get away from your desk is bull.  I saw you surfing Facebook earlier and updating your twitter all morning.  We will now shun you.  That big luncheon that was scheduled for next week which we told you was cancelled?  It wasn’t.  We’re gonna have a blast.  Then call you 8 minutes before it’s over and ask why you couldn’t make it.  Tweet about that.
6. You’re busy.  I’m busy.  We’re all busy.  When do you ever see me sitting around telling anyone who passes by how much I wish I had more work to do?  Oh yeah, it was never.  Stop trying to get me to do your job and mine as well simply because you’re feeling overwhelmed.  Once or twice, fine, I’m a reasonable guy.  Every day?  I’ll bite you, I swear I will.
7. Parking garages (and even parking lots) often have spaces designated as being for “compact cars”.  So why is it they’re always filled with Hummers and Ford F350s?  And I say filled because I mean filled.  They take up the whole spot, plus some overflow on each side, making it impossible for anyone else to park in the directly surrounding spots for fear of not being able to open their doors.  So instead of 3 cars getting spots, your one humongously oversized truck/SUV/tank gets it.  I would spread a rumor that you have tiny genitalia, but it’s no fun to spread a rumor that’s very likely true.  I’ll just consistently let the air out of your tires, and practice my voodoo.  Just wait.  I’ll getcha.
8. If you see me approaching the elevator and start pushing the button to close the doors because you want it to yourself, I will purposely run and throw my body onto the elevator and stare at you the whole ride up.  And if I get off before you, I’ll push the buttons for every other floor and then stare at you with a smile as the doors close behind me.  Stop being an ass.
9. If you need to have more than 30 second conversation with someone, schedule time in a small conference room to discuss your issues.  I don’t want you standing right behind me talking to someone about how the deadline for the such and such is tomorrow and you haven’t finished the thingamajig and you’re gonna jump off the roof if you don’t get it done in time since you’ll almost certainly be fired for being incompetent.  If I have to listen to you talking about that for more than 30 seconds, I’ll show you the way to the roof and advise you not to land in any bushes or soft objects below.
10. Please don’t bring Chinese food into work for lunch, and then eat it at your desk.  Just about every corporate building has a cafeteria – a place specifically designed to smell like food and facilitate its being eaten.  You wanna eat a sandwich at your desk?  Fine.  Go for it.  You wanna eat something that’s going to smell up the whole office?  Be aware that I’m going to lean over your cube and spray you in the face with air freshener to try and balance it out.  You have been given fair warning.
11. If you’re going to bring up every fundraiser your child’s school has and expect your coworkers to buy all that useless crap that we don’t really want, then you had better be willing to do the same when we start peddling our kids’ crap.  Too many times have I seen people sell popcorn, girl scout cookies, wrapping paper, and all other kinds of ridiculously random stuff to coworkers, then turn around and say that they don’t have any money to return the favor, all the while planning their next family trip to who-knows-where.  If you don’t buy the stuff I’m peddling, I will sneak sugar into your carry-on baggage and warn the airport that you’re smuggling cocaine.  Enjoy your cavity search.
12. Newsflash: sound travels.  If you’re listening to a radio at your desk, everyone you can hear it.  There does not exist a comfortable volume that you can both hear the music over the sound of your keyboard and mouse clicks, but still keep your neighbors from having to listen to it.  What’s worse is that the people who listen to music loudly at their desk rarely have commonly shared taste – they’re usually huge fans of heavy metal, deep south country, or polka.  Stop it, or I’ll be forced to modify the system files on your computer, and from now on when your computer starts up you’ll be greeted by farm animal noises, thus perpetuating the rumor I also started about your torrid love affairs with sheep.  Write a country song about that.
13. If you are cold, do not complain to building management and request the temperature be raised.  How about you stop wearing short sleeve shirts to work if you’re feeling chilly?  Some people are required to wear dress shirts and slacks, and those don’t really breathe very well, so said people get quite warm.  They don’t need you requesting the temperature be set to 82 so you can feel nice and toasty at your desk.  Wear a sweater.  Wear a jacket.  Get up off your ass and move around to stimulate blood flow.  When you’re cold, you can do something about it.  When everyone else gets hot, it’s not really work appropriate to strip down to cool off.  If you don’t follow this rule, I’ll be forced to sneak hot sauce into all the food you brought for lunch.  You won’t be feeling very cold after eating that.
14. Don’t print out a 300 page report all at once in the middle of the day.  Other people need to use that printer too, likely for one or two pages, and they shouldn’t have to sit around all day waiting for your document to finish.  Split it up into a few smaller sized pieces.  You’ll still get your report printed, but other people will be able to intermittently print their documents too.  Everyone wins.  If you don’t comply, I’ll steal pages 109-147 out of your report.  Hope there wasn’t anything important in there.
15. During a fire drill/alarm, do not push everyone out of your way to make it to the stairs faster.  We would all like to escape, thank you.  Pushing me over will not facilitate your safe escape without any repercussions.  Chances are, I’ll get back on my feet and make it downstairs just fine.  However, when it’s safe to return inside I’ll rush straight to your desk and start taking things.  And shredding things.  And then I’ll limp past you later feigning innocence as you cry over your missing Snoopy pen.
16. If you have to have a badge of some sort to activate the elevator or the parking garage or the door to your area of the office, please have it out and ready when you get to said spot.  I am tired of being behind you while you dig in your car to find your badge, or upend your purse in the elevator looking for it, or dig through your pockets all the while laughing awkwardly and pretending you haven’t done the same thing everyday of your employment here.  I’m tired of it, and so is everyone else.  If we can have the necessary identification ready and available when necessary, so can you.  Get with it, or next time I see you I’m going to rush over and tape it to your forehead.
17. We live in the 21st century, not the Dark Ages.  When it comes to trivial little questions or ramblings, an instant message or an email will more than suffice.  You can even throw in an “lol” or an emoticon and then go along with your day, never having gotten up from your desk.  But no, that’s no good.  You have to get up and walk across the office to talk to your friend, then walk back to your desk, then walk to someone else’s desk 3 minutes later with a follow-up question, then back to your desk, and so on and so forth all day long.  I tire of seeing your face walk past my desk.  Technology is a great asset.  I’m not asking you to plug your brain into your computer and disconnect all social interaction, just to be aware of the fact that your constant pacing back and forth across the office is distracting to those of us actually working, and your conversations are also a nuisance, one which could be accomplished even quicker and with absolute silence via the computer.  Take advantage of the technology, or I will build a sentient robot to shoot laser beams at you every time you pass my desk.

As you can see, I’m moderately bitter.  Working in corporate America is tough, but if everyone followed the rules we’d all be just fine.  Spread the word.  Or else…

My friend Jayme was the first person I knew personally to own a Prius.  She dreamed of it for eons (or a couple years, one of the two) and finally managed to purloin one.  According to my recollection, her cousin Sarah then decided that a Prius is way cooler than a “Slug Bug” and that no longer would anyone get hit when a Bug drove past – now the only people getting hit would be the ones who didn’t spot a nearby Prius fast enough to claim it for themselves.  The game caught on like wildfire (between the three of us) and we laughed away all the bruises.

As of late, the game has begun to spread.  Jayme’s mom now plays, a fact I learned while riding in the car with her last month when she surprised me by severely beating me on 5 different occasions in the course of one afternoon of errands, all with a huge smile on her face that she was part of the cool crowd playing Prius.  Even after my embarrassing defeat at the fist of Judy, I foolishly taught the game to both my youngest brother and Keith.  Since teaching them this game, I have suffered many a beating at their delight.  Sure, every once in a while I manage to smack them, but being the driver puts me in the unfortunate role of having to watch the road, not the surrounding cars.  I remember Keith thinking the game was stupid at first, but now he seems to excel at it.  Damn.

In spite of all this, there seems to be a few questions as to how the game is played and what all it entails.  I’d like to take this chance to teach the public (meaning the 8 people who read this blog) how to play Prius and be cool.

1. The first rule of Prius, is to tell everyone about Prius.  You can’t play a game nobody is aware of, so spread the word far and wide.  If you don’t, I’m pretty sure that makes you a communist.
2. No longer does seeing a Volkswagen Beetle/Bug entitle you to punch someone in the arm.  Doing so authorizes the driver to push the eject button and launch your ass out of the car.  If their car doesn’t come equipped with an eject button (but whose doesn’t nowadays?), then be prepared to have the passenger door opened, your seatbelt unbuckled, and your body ingloriously pushed from the moving vehicle.  We’re not kidding about this one – Slug Bug is dead people, it’s now the age of the Prius.
3. When a Prius is spotted in the wild, simply hitting someone doesn’t count, and will likely get you a great big shiner.  To truly claim the beautiful hybrid, you must shout “PRIUS!” and point it out.  This will protect you from unjustified return beatings as promised by the bylaws of Prius.
4. If you own a Toyota Prius, you can’t smack anyone nearby everytime you see your own vehicle, nor can they hit you or anyone else.  Owned Priuses (or as Jayme refers to them, Prii) do not count towards the game, as that is not very sportsman-like.  You may only hit someone if you spot a Prius that is not owned by you or your traveling companions.
5. A Prius on TV doesn’t count.  If you don’t see it in person, you can’t begin beating anyone in your direct proximity.
6. Toyota Dealerships do indeed count, so if you happen to drive past one with anyone near you, be sure to sneakily spot the section of Priuses/Prii and commence beating the crap out of anyone within reach.
7. There used to be an archaic rule that when playing Slug Bug you had to say “no slug backs” or the slugee was allowed to hit you back.  That’s stupid, and in keeping with the caliber of people who still play Slug Bug.  Prius is above that.  Once you spot one and hit someone, that Prius has been claimed and no further hits are allowed.  Deal with it cry babies.
8. When in the role of “passenger” of a car, please be cautious as to with how much force you wail on the driver.  If you don’t want the driver to lose consciousness and careen the car off the side of a cliff (assuming you often drive near cliffs), simply smack them gently and yell “PRIUS!” to validate the smack.  Drivers however are allowed to beat passengers as thoroughly as they desire.  Again – deal with it cry babies.
9. You cannot store up Prius sightings and then let loose on a clueless victim (stranger or otherwise) later on.  Any Priuses/Prii spotted while alone are immediately invalidated.  Sucks to be you – make some friends and ride around with them.
10. Other hybrids don’t count, so don’t even try it.  Hybrid Camrys, beautiful though they are, are not Priuses/Prii, thus they are not covered by the Prius game.  Neither is any other hybrid vehicle, so if you hit someone and try to shout “Hybrid Highlander!”, be prepared to be hit back since you won’t be covered by the protection of the Prius rules.  (As a side note, yes, all my hybrid references are made by Toyota.  That’s because any other hybrid sucks.  Toyota makes the Prius, thus they are the best.)

These are the rules as of the time of this posting.  Feel free to post your own rules in the comments.  If I feel they’re worthy of being added to the rulebook, I’ll amend the list and provide credit.  By the power invested in me by the Toyota Corporation (not really, but let’s pretend for the sake of Priuses/Prii everywhere), I declare the Prius game officially begun.

Here we go…:

1. Please always wash your hands.  Even if you don’t feel that there was any mess warranting it, do it anyways.  For men especially, you touched your junk.  Even if there was no mess when you micturated, there was hand-to-junk contact.  Nobody wants to touch your hand later without it having been washed.  Be sensible.  Be polite.  Be clean.  Wash your hands.
2. You may be buddies outside the bathroom, but inside you had better pretend you’re strangers.  It’s inappropriate and awkward to walk into a bathroom and stand side-by-side with a work colleague or friend at the urinals while talking about anything.  The only acceptable deviation from this rule is at a sporting event of some kind; in those situations it is okay to reference a recent phenomenal play, but don’t drag it out.  Take care of business and get out of the bathroom.  There should be no friendliness and socializing while toilets are nearby.  We’re not women.
3. The courtesy flush is an important part of bathroom etiquette that apparently almost nobody understands.  When you know you’re going to be camped out for a while in the bathroom due to the 4 bowls of chili you had for lunch, please be sure to be concious of the fact that your stall doesn’t smell like roses, and said un-rosey smell isn’t contained to just your stall.  Flush a couple times throughout your stay and make sure nothing lingers long.  A couple flushes goes a long way at relieving the eye-watering stench that prevails in most public restrooms.  Be courteous.  Nobody wants to smell that.
4. Do not wash anything but your hands in the bathroom sink.  This is not the place to make up for the fact that you were running too late this morning to take a shower.  I personally have come across the same guy numerous times washing his feet in the bathroom sink at work.  Standing there on one leg, socks and shoes off, foot in sink, scrubbing with soap and drying with paper towels.  That’s nasty.  I don’t want to get close to you.  I don’t want to smell the feet that apparently need to be washed so badly.  Don’t splash soapy water into your armpits to compensate for the fact that you worked out over lunch.  None of this is acceptable bathroom etiquette.  Sinks are for hand washing only.
5. Always flush.  Yes, you heard me – always flush.  I know the toilets in a public restroom aren’t always the most hygenic places in the world, but part of this comes from the fact that people don’t flush.  I don’t want to walk up to a urinal or toilet to see anything leftover from the person there before me.  That’s weird and gross and unnecessary.  Even if the handle to the toilet isn’t the cleanest thing in the world, it takes all of 10 seconds to walk from the toilet to the sink to scrub it off your hands, and you saved the next person from seeing your business you left behind.
6. Do not talk on your cell phone.  If you are on your phone while on your way to the restroom, fine.  Once you reach the door, say good-bye.  Nobody in the bathroom wants to hear you telling your wife that lasagna sounds good tonight but that Timmy will have to get a ride home from soccer practice with a friend.  And chances are, your wife doesn’t want to hear you pooping.  I don’t even want to hear it, and I’m in the stall next to you.  To further discourage people from talking on their phones (existing conversations, or new ones that started when already in the bathroom), I flush the toilet over and over again until they hang up.  I figure it’s either going to be too loud for them to hear anything, or the person on the other end of the line is going to realize they’re in the bathroom and just call them back later.  Either way, I’m satisfied when they shut up.  (Side note…texting is acceptable)
7. Cleanliness is important, but don’t be crazy about it.  Most bathrooms don’t have many sinks.  The sinks to toilet ratio is quite low actually.  So chances are there will be more people using the restroom than sinks are available.  This is sometimes the excuse people use to not wash their hands, but this could be avoided if people didn’t spend 5 minutes washing their hands.  I want to be clean just as much as the next guy, but I don’t have to soap and rinse, soap and rinse, soap and rinse, over and over and over again.  There’s being clean, and there’s being rude.  When there are only a few sinks and there is a line of people wanting to wash their hands, finish quickly and move.  If you notice the person at the sink next to you switch more than once, you’re taking too long.  Hurry up and get out of the bathroom.  Think of it this way – the longer you remain washing your hands, the longer you’re exposed to any other germs that might be floating around.  Save yourself – escape!

If anyone else has anymore they’d like to throw in, feel free.  I know I haven’t listed near all of them.

Then I calmed down a little and took a deep breath, thinking surely it was just having a hard time waking up.  Sometimes it does that.  My laptop is temperamental, just like me.  So I closed the lid and opened it again.  Nothing.  Forced it to shut down and powered it back on.  Nothing.  Cried a little on the inside.  Nothing.  Cried a little on the outside.  Surprisingly…nothing.  I climbed up on the ledge of my balcony, ready to jump, when I remembered that my precious laptop is covered by Applecare warranty.  I was saved!

Climbed down and scheduled an appointment with the “Geniuses” at the nearest Apple store the next day after work.  I drove straight there when I got off and stood around waiting my turn for over an hour.  On a side note, I almost pushed a lady off the stool she was sitting on simply because she was taking up two stools – one for her and one for her purse.  I watched for a long time and nobody ever came over that she might’ve been saving the seat for.  She was just rude.  I stood right next to her and got in her personal bubble of space, and when the guy behind the counter invited me to sit down while they looked at my laptop, I looked at her and said I couldn’t because there were no open seats.  She still didn’t move the purse.  At that point, I felt that she deserved the floor, and her fancy Louis Vuitton purse could remain on its stool.  I reigned it in though and just shot her nasty looks when she wasn’t paying attention.  It was fun.

The Genius told me that either the LCD or the graphics card was out and would need to be replaced.  Had it not been for my very recently extended warranty (thanks Mom!), this would’ve cost me at least $800.  Instead…$0.  It’s completely covered.  Except for the data backup.  He informed me that it wasn’t something they could do in store and would instead need to be shipped off for repair.  He also graciously informed me that during testing of machines, sometimes the techs decide to wipe a hard drive just to make sure that software isn’t the problem.  In essence, if I didn’t pay them the $50 to backup my data, I ran the risk of it being deleted.  Ummm…no thanks.

I left with my laptop and backed it up over the weekend with the help of a very special someone.  I took it back in on Saturday and shipped it off for repair.  They told me the latest date they’ll keep it is the 28th, but that’s 2 weeks away.  I think a little piece of me is dying a little bit day by day as my only access to a computer at home is now my – *gasp* – desktop PC.  Stupid Windows Vista…  *grumble grumble*  I can’t wait to get my Mac back.

Just a few of the things I learned are listed below:

1. I learned that almost nothing in the world can surpass the joy of a little girl getting to meet her favorite princess.  Time and time again I witnessed young girls bounce up and down in barely contained excitement as they came face to face with the characters from their favorite Disney movies.  Unless you’ve seen it yourself, you can’t imagine the joy a little girl radiates when she walks up to Cinderella only to have the princess kneel down to give the young child a hug.  It is literally a dream come true for these girls to meet the princesses and hold a conversation, and to their credit, each and every princess had a smile on her face as she played the part to perfection.  I almost cried numerous times watching these small children, who moments before couldn’t stop talking, be struck speechless in awe of having just been hugged by Belle or Jasmine, or any of the others.
2. I learned that the joy of a child meeting their favorite Disney character is only slightly surpassed by the joy of the parents witnessing it.  I saw parents over and over again with tears in their eyes as they saw unbridled happiness in the eyes of their children.  There’s something to be said about a bond between parent and child being developed on a vacation like what I had, and you can almost see it happening right before your eyes.  The mother and father are just as happy as the child is when they meet the characters, and then you hear them talking about it as they walk away, and you know they’ll remember that moment for a long time to come.
3. I learned that not every parent is patient enough for the Disney experience.  For as many instances of children and parents having fun and laughing together, there were just as many times that I saw parents standing in line looking like they have a dozen other places they’d rather be, while the children did their best not to blink loudly for fear of being yelled at.  I saw one father yelling at his daughter to stop dancing around or else they’d turn around and go home – this was at 8:30 in the morning before the park even opened while we waited to be let in.  Nobody else was in line and she wasn’t hurting anybody; it was just very clear that she was overwhelmed and excited about coming to DisneyWorld and her father just couldn’t handle it.  Now I’ll be the first one to say that kids can be loud and fidgety (though Lord knows I’m the worst at both those), but when it comes to DisneyWorld, as a parent you just have to step back and tell yourself that your kid is going out of their mind with happiness and you need to let them enjoy it.  As long as they’re not bumping into people or being obnoxious, every other parent around you knows exactly what you’re going through and sympathizes.  Instead of being grumpy and frustrated, relate to the child.  Talk to them.  Ask why they’re so excited and share the experience with them.  I know I’m not a parent, but I’m smart enough to know that this is very important to developing a strong relationship with your children, and there were so many times when I couldn’t help but think that the parent wasn’t only ruining the experience of that moment, but potentially losing out on many moments left to come.
4. I learned that for the most part, Disney employees are some of the nicest and most genuinely caring people there are.  The first day we went to the Magic Kingdom I saw a little girl who had been separated from her father.  A random Disney cast member had come across her and was holding her hand and walking with her, talking in a soft and gentle voice and asking her for small details to help them find her dad.  She provided all the information into a small radio, and then stood around with the little girl in the hopes of seeing her father walk past looking for her.  While they looked, another employee who worked in the candy shop right behind where they were standing had overheard the whole situation, and brought out a bag of snacks for the little girl to distract her and calm her down.  Only a few moments later another employee walked over with the father, having heard his description on the radio and located him, and the dad and daughter were reunited.  It was touching.
5. I learned that I want a son.  Over and over again I saw infants and toddlers and my heartstrings were pulled.  I’ve always known that I want children someday, at least a boy and a girl, but never before has the desire been so strong.  And in this setting, it was only a son.  I kept seeing myself over and over again as a father to a little boy.  My heart broke over and over again the entire week as I saw parents holding their little kids, and I kept wondering “when will this be for me?”  I’m not ready now and I know that.  But it tears me up inside to know that it may be a long time before the timing is right and the opportunity is available.  Deep down I know that being a father is going to happen for me.  I just hope it’s not in the too distant future.

I enjoyed my vacation, both for the eye-opening and heartwarming experiences, as well as the general fun I had myself.  DisneyWorld is not just a place for kids, and anyone who thinks it is has either never been, or is not mentally in a place open to that kind of experience.  It sounds so hokey to say, but it’s just magical.  It’s like a whole different world there, and one I very much enjoyed visiting.

When I got to the pharmacy I asked for some more Sudafed, and decided to switch out the Zyrtec with Claritin to see if it worked any better.  The lady spent almost 5 minutes trying to ring me up for the medicine, and eventually handed them back to me and told me the system wouldn’t let her ring up both, and I’d have to choose one or the other.  When I asked why, she explained that purchasing both would put me over my allotted “gram limit” for the 30 day period since my last purchase.  Huh?

Apparently this is why they make you provide your driver’s license when purchasing medicine of any kind.  When I last bought my allergy medicine the system made a note of what I was purchasing and how much of it there was.  So when I went back on Tuesday to buy more, the system flagged it and said that I was purchasing too much in too short a time period, and that usually means I’m not actually using the medicine for it’s intended purposes, but to get high somehow.  Fantastic.  Having allergies makes me look like an junkie now.  Probably didn’t help that my eyes were bloodshot and I kept having to sniff loudly just to breathe.

In the end I had to decide just to get the Claritin so that I could remain under my “gram limit” for the month.  If someone is poor enough and inventive enough to need to make narcotics of any kind using allergy medicine, I say just let them.  They must have very sad lives and they need all the help they can get making it better.  Don’t make those of us legitimitely sick and miserable suffer by not giving us the medicine we need to get through the day simply on the offchance that we might do something inappropriate with the medication.  My sinuses can’t take much more, and now I’m just gonna have to tough it out.  Thank you very much to whoever thought up that idiotic rule.

Only recently have I actually realized just how many people I know and care about have served in the past, or are serving now.  I’ve been obvlivious for a long time, something I don’t tolerate in others and will equally not tolerate in myself.  I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said “if you won’t stand behind our troops, stand in front of them”.  In light of the current situation with the US forces stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan, this is more prevalent a view now than almost any other time before.  I believe the only exception would be the Vietnam war back in the 1960′s.

Both of my grandfathers served.  My father’s step-father served in the Navy and my mother’s father in the Navy as well.  What saddens me is that I’ve never sat down with either of them and asked about any of it.  I had a brief conversation once with my dad’s step-dad about when he was young and first enlisted, but it was more of a humorous story than anything else, talking about when he got a tattoo that his mom didn’t like when he returned home.  That’s as close to a real conversation as I’ve gotten.  And until this moment, it never really bothered me.  They both served during times of war and came out of it in one piece and completely sane.  I could never do that.

My cousin Riley is in Afghanistan right now.  We were really close when we were younger, and grew apart once we both reached high school.  It wasn’t either one of us really, it was both.  We could both drive and we both had cell phones, but we never called each other up to just hang out.  Now he’s married and has an infant daughter, and he’s serving in the Army on the other side of the world.  I could never do that.

For many years when I was younger I attended private school, and then when I entered public school in the 3rd grade I still went to that private school for after-school care.  I had a friend named Neil for all that time, and we were inseparable on the playground.  It sounds funny to think back on now, but it’s true.  Used to drive us crazy when his twin sisters would follow us around, but we evaded them together.  For the past couple years he also served in Afghanistan and just recently returned to the states.  I haven’t seen him in years, and once he comes back home I’ll do everything I can to make that happen, but I can’t imagine what he’s gone through and what he’s seen.  I could never do that.

My best friend Terry served in the Marines for 4 years.  It was almost a decade ago, so there weren’t any wars going on, but that’s not to say it wasn’t a difficult decision to make and a stressful time in his life I’m sure.  he and I have talked about it, though not for an extended amount of time.  Most of our conversations consisted of how he met his wife while he was stationed in Hawaii, and and of him showing me photo albums of pictures he took while located both there in Hawaii and later on in Tokyo, Japan.  After meeting the woman he loved and wanted to marry, he got orders to be transferred from one side of the world to the other, leaving her behind, and he had to do it because you can’t just leave the Marines because you don’t want to leave a girl.  So they were separated for quite a while until they were married and then eventually his service ended.  I could never do that.

My friend Michael has just recently enlisted in the Air Force for a six year stint.  I can’t even wrap my mind around that.  Six years committed to something like that which will control almost every aspect of his life, not the least of which is where he and his wife will live.  He seems excited about it and that’s great.  I’m happy for him.  I think this will help him find some direction and stability in his life that he’s been looking for, and I think the structure is going to be really good for him.  He has a lot of ambition and talent, and the Air Force will take those and mold him into someone with the necessary skills to take him in the right direction.  He leaves tonight and will live separately from his wife for months while he’s in basic training and then tech school.  They’ll be able to visit occassionally, but for the first time since they started dating they are going to be apart for a long time.  I could never do that.

I’ll go on record as saying that I don’t believe America has a right or need to be stationed in any of the countries in the middle east right now, but that’s a topic for an entirely different blog entry.  However, I fully support the troops and everything they do, and just want them safe.  These people are willing to sacrifice everything for complete strangers to keep our country safe.  I could never do that.

So to anyone who has served, or even considered serving, I salute you.  My respect and gratitude are yours.  Thank you for all that you’ve done and continue to do.