the eyeballs have it ...

Those of you who know me very well know I have issues with my eyeballs. Yes, I like to have them licked and sucked (when they're closed). But THAT'S not the issue I'm talking (writing) about.

Now Natalia recently posted about her phobia of sharks and it got me thinking a little about my own personal phobias. Now, a phobia is defined as "a strong, persistent fear of situations, objects, activities, or persons. The main symptom of this disorder is the excessive, unreasonable desire to avoid the feared subject." I am afraid of some things, and particular things more than others, but I don't really have one that causes that avoidance thing.

But I do have near-phobic fears regarding my dear little eyeballs. They are very sensitive, at least to me; I'm sure they're probably no more sensitive than the next set of eyeballs. But I guess that's my point — all eyeballs are sensitive.

What really got me thinking about the eyeball thing was the injury yesterday of Villanova guard Allan Ray. He was poked in the eye, and some video showed that it may have actually been popped out of its socket. I know! ewwwwwwwww!!

I was talking to Chrissie about this, which wasn't good, because her eyes were hurting and the discussion didn't help her situation out. It also brought up my fears regarding my eyeballs. So I thought I would share some of my eyeball issues with everyone ... that comes to the blogosphere on the weekends, anyway ... which is about 4 people to my blog, anyway. LOL

ZOMBIE
No I'm not positive that the movie I remember was the cult horror classic "Zombie," but I do know that it's a zombie flick. Here's the scene: A woman is running from a zombie. Luckily, as we all know, zombies are slow — but they are methodical. She runs and runs and reaches this house. She opens the door, darts in, then closes and locks the door behind her, gasping and scared but relieved, because she and the zombie are on opposite sides of the door.

CRASH!!!

This zombie hand shatters the wood of the door and emerges on her side, grabbing her by the hair ... and inexorably pulling her head toward the door ... where there's this giant, sharp wood shard poking toward the screaming woman.

You guessed it folks: The zombie pulls her eyeball onto the shard, which punctures her eyeball and eventually pulls it out of her socket. Ugh! *shiver*

CONTACTS
I tried once to get contacts. I've worn glasses for the vast majority of my life. Contacts used to be hella expensive. Plus, my dad was in the Air Force, which covered glasses (BCGs — Birth-Control Glasses) but not contacts. No way were my parents gonna shell out big money for contacts for their kids.

When I got older and had my own job and thus, my own revenue stream, I thought it would be cool to get contacts. I'd put away my glasses and be able to wear all the cool sunglasses and still be able to see.

So I go to the optometrist and get a pair with my prescription. I go home, look at the instructions, then try to put them in. For a long time. First while sitting in a chair, then in front of the mirror. I can't do it. I can't knowingly put something in my eye. The closest I get is a lens on the bottom of my lower eyelid.

EYEDROPS
I can't put them in myself. I just can't. I try to put the thing close, I try to hold it far away. But I always blink, close the eyelids. Same thing happens when someone tries to put eyedrops in for me. Blink. Close.

I have to squeeze drops into the well of the eye just close to the nose and tilt my head to the side to get the drops to roll into my eyeball. Sad ... but true. LOL

THE FACIAL
So some friend of mine (a woman, of course) gave me this certificate for a free facial and a hoity-toity salon downtown. So I go there and they take me to this dim, quiet room and lay me on my back.

The woman takes my glasses off and begins the facial, which is VERY nice. Like a massage for the face. Very soothing. Very comforting. I'm liking it a lot.

Then she spreads this goop all over my face ... no idea what it's supposed to do, but it feels cool and good. Then she puts these things over my eye, tells me to relax and that she'll be back in 10 minutes or so to finish up.

So I'm OK for a while ... but dammit ... there are things on my eyeballs. How long has it been? Five minutes? OK ... I can do this ... deep breath ... relaxing thoughts ... fuck ... how long has it been now? Hey ... is that goop running under the eyeball covers? Is goop going to get into my eye and blind me? Fuck! Hasn't it been 10 minutes, for fuck's sake? Where the hell is she? Hello! Lady!

She comes in — because yes, the last two words WERE yelled by me LOL — and I tell here she's got to take these things off my eye. She starts trying to placate me and to tell me that it'll only be a few more minutes. I manage to convince her to uncover my eyeballs and take the goop off. Whew!

PINKEYE
Oh shit don't get me started on pinkeye. I've had it twice, thanks to bastards and miscreants and disease-carrying fucks. And I've vowed that if I get it again, the person who gives it to me will be dead within days ... or until I can see again and not have the littlest bit of light blind me like a fucking mole.

Random Guam Fact Of The Day:
• When someone on Guam has a lazy eye or is cross-eyed, the Chamorro descriptive term is "kitan," as in, "Laña, that boy is kitan!"