Bi-Polar Moods and Unapologetic Inappropriateness.

Be forewarned: about 3 paragraphs into this blog I was bored to tears writing it. Perhaps this is because I've been dealing with this problem for so long. Maybe its because I dealt with a fresh case of it this very morning and I've been dealing with it for a better part of the day. But whatever the reason is, it's a whiny one. So my recommendation is unless you're incredibly and disturbingly interested in what I have to say, just walk away.

I'm going to tell you about a chronic problem I've got. It's not as interesting as peeing green, dealing with even more chronic stupidity or irritable bowel syndrome. (Which by the way I just refer to simply as farting.) No, my problem is one I've been dealing with for coming up on 2 years and that problem is clinically referred to as recurrent corneal erosion.

The Cliffs Notes Edition means that for one reason or another something is scraping away at my eye. Then when it tries to heal, usually in the middle of the night, it winds up melding to the inside of my eyelid at which point I wake up in pain. Picture about a dozen pins being shoved in your eye after getting maced while watching Joe the Plumber blow Tyler Perry. Oh, and Perry's dressed as Medea.

This corneal erosion only happens during the dry (as in non-humid) winters this shithole rustbelt town is oh so famous for. Humidifiers don't really work in case you're thinking of making a suggestion, but thanks for thinking of me. Aside from a steady diet of eydrops, a tiny tube of... eye vaseline and a shitload of finger-crossing nothing helps. And when it does flare up, my only relief comes from the charity of my optometrist fitting me in for an emergency appointment, doping my eye up with an anesthetic drop and sticking a contact lens on my eye that acts as a bandage. And that's the first part. Once the bandage is in and I experience a certain amount of relief, I start drowning my eye with eye drops. Oh, and it always seems to alternate from eye to eye. First it was the left. Then at some point it moved to the right. Left. Right. Left. Right. I forget how many times this has happened in the last 2 years but as of today we're back on the left eye.

Then there's the Cheap Old Man part of me that gets pissed about having to drop $15 every time I go there and every time I go for a follow up. And depending on how bad the... episode is, I've got anywhere from 1 to 4 follow ups.

You know what? I'm done. I'm done talking about this. There is no way I can talk about this in an interesting way or even a way that could possibly convince you (or myself) that I actually care. There's no humidity in the air in this assfuck town. And because gahd is bi-polar and we'll get 67 degree temperatures in the middle of February then 23 degree temperatures 2 days later this shit happens to me for like 5 months out of the year. Goddamn barometric pressure and shit! It happens, I piss and moan about the co-pays because I don't work F O U R jobs because I'm a fucking people person. I work four jobs because I've got a sense of responsibility in that old school a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do kind of way and because I didn't plan ahead.

I'm going to work like a dog or a slave (haven't figured that out yet) for the rest of my life because I do the majority of things in my life half-assed and because I'm a big proponent of the path of least resistance. I'm not even going to blame some bloated bureaucrat for fucking up social security because I ultimately know that all of my problems are my own.

So I'm just going to heal my eye this time and very much like the one optometrist I deal with for my appointments, just hope and pray it doesn't happen again. Until next winter. (But actually the other optometrist has a more proactive game plan for next week. So maybe there is an end in sight.) So now I'm really done talking about this.

I want to talk about something else instead. I want to talk about The Wrestler. Not even The Wrestler. Marissa Tomei. More specifically the scenes in this movie where she's damn near stark raving naked. I'm normally the kind of guy who just keeps my filthy little thoughts to myself when I see a fine as froghair woman but I was and am ready to pop (you take that any way you want to but I was thinking more along the lines of Scanners) when I saw her stripping in that movie. Tomei's going to be what, 45 this year? Goddamn, I'd love to meet her mother! Goddamn, I'd like to thank her mother! I'm not sure what had me turning into a werewolf first--her tits or her ass. And I feel like such a jag spewing all this nonsense. This isn't who I am. 99% of the time, more than 99% of the time I'm more interested in what's going on between a woman's ears than what's happening between her legs, but Tomei really put the whammy on me in this movie. Gahd bless America...!