I did it all for the cookie...

It occurred to me this morning that I really ought to travel more.

There are lots of reasons people travel; plenty of good reasons they go to exciting places like Afghanistan and Africa, Costa Rica and Mexico. There's the scenery, the culture, the food, the experience of being a minority. All good things.

But me? I'd go for the malaria.

Okay, I don't actually want malaria. I just want to have been in danger of catching it. Preferably within the last twelve months.

Let me explain. Today was "Phlebotomy Day" here at church. If you're not familiar with the term "phlebotomy", that's just a fancy way of saying that we had a blood drive. Undoubtedly, giving blood is a good thing to do. I encourage you to do it. Often. I'd just rather not do it myself. And hey, if I' been in danger of catching malaria (in other words, if I'd traveled a little more) no one would bother asking me to.

I confess, I don't really like needles. I don't like the thought of being pricked by anything. I don't like pain--no matter how insignificant. Now don't get any crazy ideas--I'm not in danger of passing out or anything like that (I wish--then no one would expect me to give either). I just don't like it. And I'll admit it, that makes me a wimp.

Now Bill, from church, he's no wimp. He's given fifteen gallons of blood over his life. He donates plasma every two weeks. And Rick (also from church), well, he's no wimp either. Rick gives blood every 56 days--as often as he possibly can. I think he's up to 90 pints now. (Having been pricked so many times, you'd think that he'd be constantly spouting blood all over; that his arms would be like Swiss cheese; or that he'd have train tracks, like a heroine addict. But miraculously, he doesn't). But Rick is a man's man. He's in the marines. He's a colonel, for crying out loud. Rick shoots guns. He climbs mountains. He gives blood. Like I said, he's no wimp.

But not me. I really didn't want to give blood. So I was thinking this morning that a little trip to say, Tijuana, would be helpful in avoiding all that unpleasantness. But since I have classis meetings all weekend, that wasn't going to fit in the schedule. So I went.

Why? Behold, the power of guilt.

And the strong allure of the cookie.

Honestly, it wasn't all bad. The waiting was probably the hardest thing. Filling out all those forms. Having my blood pressure taken 3 times. The failed hunt for a vein with the woman next to me. The nurse tapping for my veins ("Ooooo.. What nice veins you have."). When the dreaded moment actually came, the prick wasn't the most painful thing I've ever endured (but I've had a rough life). And hey, I got apple juice. And a cookie (note to self: go for the Fudge Chocolate Chip, not the Oatmeal Raisin next time).

But the best part was that I found out I don't need to renew my passport to avoid giving blood in 56 days. Here are some other things I can do:

• Get a body piercing. One a year could get me a long way.

• Get a tattoo. Would likely complement the body piercing well. I could go every other year. I've already started thinking of things that I'd love to have written/drawn on my body for the rest of my life. On top of the list is the CRC symbol. Then there's always the lawn mower in the chest hair idea (although this involves shaving a strip, which is a lot of maintaince). Next down the list is flower that blooms as I put on pounds (sorry, did I just cross a line?).

• Take 8 aspirin the morning of the blood drive.

• By far the best idea: Take one of the medications on the "restricted" list. There's one on there that you take to reverse balding. Need I say more? That's a win/win!