i suck at life. or at least blogging.

I feel like lately every single time I realize that I'm a sucky blogger and vow to change that (by commenting and writing amazing posts) something prevents it.

Case in point:

I got sick on Wednesday at work. When I'm PMSing (which is just about every other week these days), I like to go to IHOP for lunch and get butterscotch rocks pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs and hash browns. Nothing like the combo of so salty I need a gallon of water and so sugary I need cavaties filled to cure PMS. I'm maybe a quarter through my lunch and my tummy starts to hurt. On the way back to work I told my coworker, L, that I was about 99% positive that I was going to hurl when I got out of the car. (Fun fact on Rose: half of the time I can hold my puke until I can make it somewhere safe, the other half of the time I'll be mid-sentence and puke). Sure enough, as soon as I got out of the car, I threw up. Of course, I went home.

Thursday I was feeling a lot better. I got up to take a shower and noticed my eye was a little sore. I just figured it was a stye and rubbed a gold ring on it (I swear that if you're getting a stye and you rub gold on it, it will go away). All morning my contacts were blurry and I couldn't see for shit. At about noon I was smoking and L told me that I had a crusty eye booger that needed to be taken care of. I tried to wipe it away and it was like a line of snot. I was hoping it was just contact irritation. I knew when I left work on Thursday it wasn't just my contacts.

I was right... I have fucking pink eye. I feel like I should have passed the pink eye stage back in elementary school.

Friday morning with my eyes swollen and crusted shut. Seriously, that is the worst thing ever. On top of my eyes being super swollen and crusty, they hurt and itch. I had forgotton how uncomfortable it is.

I went to the doctor and he gave me a special type of drop since I had been wearing contacts. I'm banned from makeup and contacts for a week. Bummer. I also had to throw away my mascara that was two weeks old and my contacts that I had worn one day. FML.

It's a lot better today. Hardly red at all and just minor itching and oozing. I should be back to normal soon. I'll be commenting and hopefully writing more blogs!

Love,
Red Eye Rose

Let There be Sight

For me, going to the eye doctor is up there with going to the gyno. I despise it. In fact, I despise it so much I haven't gone in about 4 years. I used the last of my contacts last year and never went back, just relied on my glasses. I've been having a hard time seeing lately, so I knew it was time to go. I packed my Mom up for moral support on Saturday and off we went to LensCrafters.


I signed up for their next available eye appointment, which was about a 10 minute wait. The first thing the did was the eye puff of air test. For me, this is the second worst thing they do (barely behind the blue light that touches your eye that you aren't supposed to feel. I swear, I feel it). I warned the assistant that I was very bad at this test and was sure to fail. I put by chin in that little holder and try my damndest to keep my eye open. PUFF. Damn, I closed my eye. He tries again. I squint my eye. Again, fail. On the fourth try I hold open my eye with my fingers. "One, Two, Three." Puff. Why the fuck did he count? I closed my eyes as soon as I heard the number 3.

My mom is sitting there saying, "Good job, Rose. You're almost done. Try sitting on your hands so you can't move. Do you want me to hold your head so you can't jerk back?" Wow, I really do feel like a toddler. After countless tries, he finally gets one eye, then multiple tries later the second eye.

He takes me into the exam room and wants to put drops in my eye. Um, no thank you. I can't do the air test, how the hell am I supposed to let this stranger burn my eyes with drops? I asked him if I could close my eyes, he could put the drops on and let me blink them in. He just looked at me like I was crazy, but did it anyway. My mom is still all, "It's almost done, sweetie."

Before the assistant leaves the room, he turns on the lights. Wow, genius, that's exactly what I want while my eyes are dilated. Bright lights from above. What an ass. I just whipped out my vintage Ray Bans and put 'em on. My mom told me I looked like Stevie Wonder (or was it Ray Charles? Or Both?) because I was temporarily blind and had glasses on. This of course made me do my piano impression while looking around all crazy like.

Well, I'm sitting there, eyes blinded by the burn and dilation, there is a knock on the door. In walks young male vision specialist, otherwise known as Dr. SexyEyes. He introduces himself and I immediately place his voice, Matthew McConaughey (or however it's spelled). Oh, I have a doing my vision test, JAM! I'm squinting trying to see what he looks like, because according to his voice he is a hunk. However, the only thing I can see is this:

Well, I’m just sitting there attempting to read this letter business. He picks up on my sarcasm, good man. When I tell him “No Shot” when asked to read the letters, he changed told me to switch eyes and said “Still, no dice?” Hello, Dr. SexyEyes. Nice voice, sarcasm… are you hot too? Please say yes. Then he puts me behind this little number:

...and what do I see???
None other but a very beautiful mix of these very beautiful men:

Beckham:

McSteamy:

Matthew:

A mixture of Matthew, Beckham & McSteamy? Oh, sweet Jesus, Mary & Joseph. Thank you Lord for making my vision so awful and for me not getting vision insurance so I had to come here. Who cares that my vision is officially worse than my mother, he had to double my prescription, asked if bifocals had ever been brought up to me before, all that matters is that I have a hunk for an eye doctor.

And most importantly, thank you for the fact that I have to go back again Saturday to check my contacts. At least this time I won’t be dialated.

<3,

IDK, My BFF Rose?