mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- MEPS, part 4 Yes. You read that right. Part FOUR!! This is unnatural. For those of you who haven't been following as closely as I have, here is the rundown of every MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Station) visit I have had so far: Visit #1 This, for most people, is the only MEPS visit. It consists of a full physical of getting your eyes and hearing checked, blood work, and a doctor's examination. Oh, and a pee test. I didn't have to be at MEPS today until 8:30. I called and confirmed yesterday that the appointment was still good to go, and I made sure I had to be there at 8:30. Eight friggin' thirty. Remember that time. It'll come up again. I left Columbia at around 5:45, allowing myself considerable amounts of time for heavy traffic. I can make the trip to MEPS in about an hour and a half. I tend to speed at five in the morning. So, I drive along, thinking of the good time I am making, when at 7:00, I face a wall -- not dissimilar to the Great Wall of China -- of cars that stretch to the horizon. If you assumed that they were not moving an inch, you assumed correctly. Glad to have an hour and a half until my appointment, I sat and sang to some early morning radio. Until 8:00 rolled around and I was in the same spot. We were moving a little, but it was not much at all. At around 8:15, we started moving, and I rushed as fast as I possibly could to get to MEPS. Luckily, I screeched into the parking lot and ran up to MEPS right as the clock ticked 8:30. Everyone else had already left. Supposedly, when they confirmed that I should have been there at 8:30, they really meant 8:00. The big, indifferent black woman at the medical desk said, "You're late. You'll have to come back another time." I have never raised what I call "a stink" at MEPS before, even though I really wish I had. But today, I was letting the stink fly. I was p-i-s-s-e-d. This is the anger I get when my body starts to jump and convulse like I was the incredible hulk. I had to calm myself down before I wouldn't be able to stand up. Really. Anyway, to make a long story short, they ordered my very own taxi to take me to the doctor's office. Now, we have all pretty much established that MEPS is notoriously good for not telling you the most needed information that you should definitely know. Like last week, when they should have told me that my eye exam was on a different day. They should have told me that before I drove all the way there. So, today's Most Important Piece of Information I Should Have Received Before Coming to MEPS(tm) came while sitting in the eye exam chair. The doctor -- after having removed the contact lenses from my eyes with HIS hands and not mine (yes, it is very weird having someone else's fingers digging around your eye sockets) -- told me to lean back while he put drops in my eyes. They were drops of the pupil-dilating kind! This I should have known about before I drove to MEPS. In case you have never gotten your pupils dilated, you must know that you can NOT drive while they are dilated. Other than having no eyesight within ten feet, the other reason is that it feels like someone is focusing the sun with a magnifying lense right into your eye. Imagine waking up after a long sleep to someone shining one of those "Deer Hunting Beamlights" straight into your eyes. Now, while you are squinting and in severe pain, imagine trying to steer a car down the interstate at 70mph. I somehow managed to drive the 120 miles with my eyes completely shut. Don't ask me how. But the eye exam is done. The pee test is done. Everything is set. Now, all I have to do is wait for the final word from the Surgeon General. He'll give me a thumbs up or a thumbs down. If it's a thumb's up, I'll make yet another trip to MEPS -- my last one -- to get my job and be sworn in. After that, I won't have to go to MEPS until the day I ship out. Thank. God. I don't know if you are sick of hearing about MEPS, but I am sick of f'n GOING to MEPS. So, like I have mentioned a hundred times before, I will be updating this here diary via my good friend Mike. I'll be mailing him two or three times a week, and he will post the entries for me. I don't know if this is completely legal, but as I told Mike, "The military has their 'don't ask, don't tell' policy, and I will have mine." Sounds like a good excuse now. Mike works for the Wall Street Journal. I challenge you to find another Diarylander out there with a Wall Street Journal editor keeping tabs of his diary. You won't because this diary kicks major ass. Anyway, I am going to buy a domain name that immediately redirects to this site. And I will also redesign the site with an Air Force motif. The problem? I am not creative. First off, I need some ideas for a domain name. I was thinking Airforcediaries.com but it sounds too... I dunno... MTV-ish. Then I was thinking something generic like JPLand.com but it makes me think of Michael Jackson for some reason. If you have any ideas for a domain name, please email me. I would also like to have someone design me an Air Force diary template. If you have the creative talents and the patience to do it, I would reward you handsomely. I'd at least take another picture of me wearing nothing but boxers in the snow. I know you have all been dying to see that again. And finally... I went to see Sheryl Crow and Michelle Branch last night. Both gave good performances and wore tight pants, requirements for a good concert. I just don't really get into concerts all that much. Why, you ask? I hate feeling like I have to get up and stand to enjoy the concert. I am very happy sitting there listening to the music. Every now and then a good song will be played and standing up is fun. But when everyone in the place is standing, I feel like I *HAVE* to do it or be shunned as a party pooper. I hate that. I also hate clapping the beat for every song. I know the beat. The singer knows the beat. Why do I have to clap? Plus, after a while, my wrists start to hurt and my hands get raw. I can get that at home. But again, it's another one of those things where I feel like I am not one of the crowd if I don't clap. Like Sheryl Crow would stop the whole concert to say, "Hey you... The guy with the hair cut too short. Why aren't you clapping?" And the whole place would boo at me enough to leave. So, I end up clapping and standing and shaking my hips enough to keep from being shamed out of the place. But I don't like it. And that's why I don't go to too many concerts. Well, I am off. I have a lot of shows to catch up on: Enterprise, Ed... SURVIVOR! I'm pumped! They have an Asian girl on this season! 8:30 p.m. - Thurs., Sept. 19, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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