Overshare

Sometimes I overshare. Mainly it's because I talk a lot, but sometimes I just say shit I shouldn't. Other times I don't say enough because I just don't feel like it. But, whatever, that's my deal.

Well, today I went to the eye doctor. I don't have bad eyesight but I need glasses for driving, and watching TV and movies. Because my eyesight rarely changes, I go to the eye doctor when I need new glasses. I like my frames a lot, but they're six years old and getting a little warn out. And my lenses are so scratched I'm surprised I can see through them.

Anyway.... The eye doctor. After a twenty-minute check-up I know more about him than I know about some of my friends. He got divorced last year. He lost his house. He commutes a long way but figures it's penance for how crappy his life has been. He feels he's lucky to be working where he does, and he's happy there. He's been there about a year. He has three dogs. His dad was in the building industry. He likes being an optometrist because he's good at it and it's easy (and he's glad he's not in the building industry, like his dad). He has family in Mississippi. He lived in Memphis, Nebraska, California, but is from the east coast. Oh, and he hates the dentist. And the Washington rain is a bit much for him, but he thinks that is partly because he sits a lot. He needs to get his blood flowing.

In between all of these personal factoids, he told me my eyes were made for being a librarian because I have perfect eyesight for reading, and he doesn't even think I will need reading glasses. (And by the way, he asked, do I like being a librarian? It must be very rewarding. People using computers and reading are what keeps him in a job, so he likes libraries.) My left eye is worse then my right eye, and my right eye is almost perfect (always has been). I have little to no astigmatism and this amazes him. Even though I think I am blind (because my eyes were perfect for so long), he says my eyesight is pretty spectacular.

Despite the oversharing, I found him oddly endearing.

And, by the way, I got some pretty great horned-rim frames from Jonathon Cate called Lustre Lady (page 3, in wine/silver; I almost got the polka dot frames). I found some spectacular leopard print frames, but they didn't work with my non-existent nose. And while I was told this place had the best and cheapest selection in town, I chose some of the most expensive frames they had. Of course.

Let's Pretend This Never Happened

I have to work tomorrow, tomorrow being Memorial Day. Yes, the library is open on Memorial Day. When you're on the quarter system, spring semester goes until mid-June. So, while at most colleges and universities, graduation has come and gone, we're just heading into the last week of classes. So, not only is the library open, the reference desk is open. I've been able to avoid working a holiday so far, so it was my turn. Plus, I'm taking two days off later this week (and two days the week after that), so it's not like I won't get a short week (or two). And I took Friday off so I would still get a three-day weekend.

And, you know, taking off the Friday of a three-day weekend is pretty nice. Because I still have a three day weekend but my third day is a day when everyone else is off, too.

I went for a walk in the sun, drank coffee and finished the book I was reading, did some window shopping, and bought Jenny Lawson's book, Let's Pretend This Never Happened. I almost didn't buy it because reading the blurb on the inside cover made me think it was going to be one of those "my father was weird/crazy and now I'm damaged and that is why I am am so funny" books. But then I read the first few sentences of the first chapter:

Call me Ishmael. I won't answer to it, because it's not my name, but it's much more agreeable than most things I have been called. 'Call me that-weird-chick-who-says-"fuck"-a lot' is probably more accurate...

I knew I had to buy it. (And her dad was weird, but more in a small town, rural, west Texas kind of way.)

I laughed. I cried. (Seriously.) She writes about her childhood, her issues with anxiety, rheumatoid arthritis, and more. So much more.

If you haven't read her blog post about Beyonce the Chicken (which I blogged about a while ago, I think) or her follow-up posts, do.

So on my fake-holiday day I went for a walk in the sun, started reading a book that made me laugh, and took a nap at 4:00 in the afternoon. Win-win-win.

Dear Sony Pictures and NBC

So, you let Dan Harmon go as show runner for Community. You replaced him with people from other shows: Happy Endings and Aliens in America. Listen, I like Happy Endings. It's a snappy ensemble sitcom and I DVR it. I am pretty sure I was the only person who watched Aliens in America, but I liked it. I'm sure being stuck on the CW is why it never went anywhere. Or maybe people weren't ready for it. But I liked it.

So, people from good shows. But these shows aren't Community.

I'm a just a little attached to this show. I'm invested in this show. I identify with this show on so many different levels. I am one of the loyal viewers who follows Dan Harmon (@DanHarmon) on Twitter. And, yes, I read his reaction to being fired on his Tumblr page.

Listen, Sony Pictures and NBC, I don't know what you're thinking. I was happy you ordered thirteen more episodes of Community for next year. I don't even care that NBC relegated it to Friday night after that horrible show Whitney. To me this meant it was the last season. But this also meant we were going to get thirteen episodes of Dan Harmon insanity as he took the show out in a blaze of meta-glory. In a sense, I was looking forward to it.

And then you canned him.

If you wanted an ensemble show, like Happy Endings, make one. Community is an ensemble show, but it is a unique ensemble show. It does have limited appeal. I get that. If you wanted one that had broader appeal, make one and put it on Thursday night or some other night when people will watch it. Leave Community alone to the freakazoid lunch table that is Friday night. Let the rest of us enjoy it to the end.

But for whatever reason, you couldn't do that. You're gonna try to makeover the freakazoid in the lunch room to fit in with the cool kids. And just like all the other attempts to make over the weird quirky kid to meet the so-called norm, by firing Dan Harmon you will rob Community of all it's soul and character.

Way to go. *insert sarcastic slow clap*

Suck it, Sony Pictures and NBC. Suck it. Darkest timeline ever.


#SixSeasonsandaMovie #NotWithoutDanHarmon

#FirstWorldProblems

I wish I had a video

I'm a creature of habit. Most Saturday mornings I walk to the local farmer's market. And almost every Saturday I pass the same guy at almost the same spot--or at least on the same block. This guy, he jogs. Or, well, he runs.

I wish I had a video of him. Or at least a picture. But I couldn't take one without being obvious, and if I had a video or a picture to post it would look like I was making fun of him. I'm not. I'm actually fairly impressed with him. When I say he runs I should add that he runs with his own, um, style.

He's an older guy. Longish grayish hair with a longish grayish beard. He wears a headband. He is shirtless. And he is skinny with the body of an aging runner. And he wears these shorts. Man, I wish I just had a picture of the shorts. They are red, white, and blue with stripes, and I think, stars. Think Harlem Globetrotter.

But in addition to what he looks like, he has his own thing. He runs with his arms held a little too far from his side, kind of curved. And he runs all bowleggedy. And I mean he runs. With speed. This isn't casually jogging. He runs like he needs to be somewhere right now.

Do you remember the episode of Friends where Phoebe and Rachel go running in Central Park? Do you remember how Phoebe runs? If not, let me remind you:



Image a slightly toned-down-Phoebe run done by a shirtless aging hippie wearing red, white and blue stars-and-stripes shorts. That's this guy.

The Colon

...As in the internal organ, not the punctuation.

A little family history: A few years ago my mom had major surgery to remove colon polyps. One was pre-cancersous and most, if not all, were too large to remove during the colonoscopy so she had to have full-blown surgery to have them removed (she was recently given a clean bill of health). When I mentioned this to my doctor a couple years ago, she wanted me to get a colonoscopy. Needless to say, I didn't.

This year during my annual exam, she brought it up again. Colon cancer wasn't anything to screw with, she said. I knew this. A good friend's mom died of colon cancer when she was only 52. Still, I didn't want to do it, I whined. I thought I was too young. I knew that the rule of thumb was to get tested was ten years younger than the age your parent/relative had colon cancer. Mom didn't actually have cancer and she was in her 60s. But... My doctor was right: Colon cancer isn't anything to screw with.

I talked to the gastroenterologist and he said he'd consider me high risk despite my age based on my mom's history and that I should start having colonoscopy at the age of 40. Initially, I had Mom's diagnosis wrong, I thought all the polyps were pre-cancerous, but he was more concerned with their size than anything. If all of her polyps had been pre-cancerous but were small enough to be removed during the screening, he wouldn't consider me high risk.

So, long story short (and it is a long story), I had a colonoscopy today. I bring this up because it's one of those things that people don't like to talk about because it's gross and embarrassing and something that people aren't comfortable with. These are just some of the reasons people don't get them done--the other reasons have to do with the prep and the procedure itself.

Let me start with the diagnosis. I'm fine. But, they did find three small polyps. I was surprised since people kept telling me that given my age (42), the chance of them finding anything was rare. However, given my family history, the doctor wasn't surprised. None of them had an appearance that worried him. They will be be sent off to be biopsied, and I'll hear from the doctor in about a week.

This is my little PSA: Get a colonoscopy. I'm glad I did. I'll probably have to have another one in five years. But the worry and build-up in my mind about the procedure was way worse than it really was.

Firs there was one day (or a day and a half in may case) of an almost clear liquid diet. "Almost" because there are some solid foods that you can eat, a decent amount, actually, but most of it wasn't vegan. So, I had one day of a liquid diet consisting of apple juice, white grape juice, Gatorade, lemonade, and veggie broth. Most veggie broth is fairly cloudy, so I had to shop around to find some that was mostly clear (the stuff in a can is clearish). I was able to eat some plain soy yogurt and a half cup of rice. Believe me, after half-day of nothing but grape juice, rice in veggie broth was one of the best things I have ever eaten.

Then comes the prep. You know, the gallon of stuff you have to drink to clear your insides out. This is what I was dreading. It wasn't too bad. It tasted like  really salty water. And the affect? Not nearly as drastic as I'd  imagined. I drank the stuff, grabbed my laptop, and caught up on the new show Don't Trust the B in Apt 23 on OnDemand. (It's a decent show. Really. James Van Der Beek is pretty awesome in it.)

My procedure wasn't until 3:00 the next afternoon, so the fact that I couldn't have coffee and that I couldn't drink anything three hours before the procedure sucked the most.

The procedure itself? It's pretty much nothing. They rolled me into the room and asked me how I was doing. (Me: "Hungry. Let's get this thing done.") They knock you out. I remember them telling me it would take three to four minutes for it to take affect, and I remember nothing after that. Everyone was super nice and I got a wheelchair ride out to the car afterwards. (Me: "Last time I was in a wheelchair was when my brother and I would have wheelchair races in the hospital [where my mom was a nurse].)

And I was so very hungry when I was done. I went to a local place that has vegan baked goods and vegan burgers. I got a burger, two vegan red velvet cupcakes, a vegan blueberry muffin, and coffee. (I make no apologies that I will eat all of this tonight,  I ate the muffin while waiting for my burger. I haven't eaten solid food in almost 48 hours--I had some make-up eating to do.)

My insurance company were jackasses about this. They don't consider it preventative because I'm not 50 years old, and my family history meant nothing to them. And because they found polyps, it goes from medical to diagnostic which makes it more expensive, and it will cost me a pretty penny. (SUCK IT, INSURANCE BASTARDS.)

Despite the jackassery of my insurance company, I'm glad I did this now. And if your doctor tells you to get a colonoscopy, get one. It isn't nearly as traumatic as everyone says it is.