Wednesday, January 18, 2012

"What? I'm not giving you the stinkeye. I'm trying to give you the pinkeye."

I would like to preface the message in this post by saying that I should really be finalizing the edits to my company's business plan right now. However, even though it's sitting on the couch right beside me, I was inspired to write today. I feel that's what true writers do. They get inspired, a stirring in the soul, and they can't rest until their message gets out. So, here I am...with nothing of much importance to tell you. It won't save your life in a time of crisis, but it might save me from going crazy if I can get it out for you to read.

Also, I was supposed to call one of my best friends today to chat. Friend, if you are reading this, I apologize. We will chat tomorrow...and that is why you are one of the best: you understand my absurd need to communicate my crazy little inspirations. Thanks!

In a movie entitled "Juno", one of the scenes shows a display of jealousy between two high school girls pining after the same guy. "Tell your lil' girlfriend to stop giving me the stinkeye," the girl Juno says. "She wasn't giving you the stinkeye...that's just the way she looks," replied the guy. This particular part in the movie is one of my favorites because "stinkeye girl" turns around and she looks just like I remembered looking nearly five years ago when I suffered from a terrible case of pinkeye.

Ahhh...pinkeye. Have you ever had it? If not, you should never experience it. Pinkeye is one of those illnesses that is miserable (a really bad case of it, anyhow), but in my opinion, a funny story is usually gained. Why? You look funny during it, sometimes you can't see, and even after it's gone you usually don't want to risk contaminating your eye makeup (this applies to women...and others), so you force yourself to go all nat-u-ral. By the way, men are such liars when they say women are more beautiful without makeup. Or...that's what I've always thought, but maybe there is some truth to that statement...

I woke up with a mild case of pinkeye yesterday morning, went in for half a day of work and managed a whole day of work today (sans eye numero dos!). I went to Publix to pick up a sub for a late lunch. I decided 2 p.m. or so would be an attractive time (not for me personally...I was a walking disaster all day). I mean, really, who but retired people and stay-at-home moms are at Publix at 2 p.m.? I got my sub with great service and a smile (Publix does top my list as one of my favorite places to go in town. This may seem weird, but the people are friendly and helpful, the store is well organized and I always make at least two new friends), picked up Fontina cheese (my sister turned this girl into a class act, that's right!) and crackers, and headed to check out. A decent looking bag boy was insistent on carrying my two grocery bags out for me. I was thinking to myself, "Dear goodness, fella! You gotta get a new shift with the good times. I look like Quasimodo (without the hump), and here you are trying to take a stroll with me! Weird." I left the store somewhat amused, somewhat confused and very impressed with myself. "Maybe if I just think pretty..."

Luckily, this case of pinkeye wasn't nearly as bad as some I've experienced. Those are the REALLY good stories. For instance, the worst I can remember came about the last week prior to my college graduation. Good thing for me, all I really had to do at that point was find a graduation dress (that no one really even saw) and live it up with my buddies. I remember waking up one morning, and BAM! Pinkeye hit before I even knew what was happening. Before I knew it, both eyes were infected, and I looked like a baby cat (the overfed, fluffy kind). To my advantage, I was not at the trailer alone...

I had two other roommates (we lived in a trailer our last year...yes, I claim being South Alabama Trailer Trash...and will admit it was one of the greatest years of my life). Both roommates (at the time) were finishing up classes, so I was fortunate the friend we had moving into my room immediately after graduation was already in the trailer and in transition mode to getting her stuff squared away. This meant I was parked on one couch the final week of my college career, and she was on the other (because she didn't have the motivation to actually get things arranged...she had the whole summer for that).

The "new roommate" Marion and I, to this day, joke about our setup in the living room that one week we were roommates. I'm all about being personable, so instead of packing all my photos away, I kept a few frames out and adorned my desk (sitting beside the door, ready to hit the road) with them. Marion did the same. It was really quite homey.

What I appreciated most about Marion's presence was her ability to be my "guide dog", per say, during my most terrible case of pinkeye. For the record: Marion is a very attractive girl, so please don't take my "guide dog" comment to mean I'm bringing her looks into this comparison.

Anyhow, back on subject, my pinkeye was just starting to get really bad, and luckily, Marion didn't really feel like doing much that week other than watching "Everyone Loves Raymond" reruns. I remember waking up on the couch one morning, and not being able to open my eyes. Either of them. They were stuck. I began wailing like a dying zoo animal (not sure what kind, but I would guess a more exotic breed). "I can't see! I can't seeee!!!" I thought I was saying to myself. Then there was a burst of laughter and a, "Torie, I'm right here." She brought me wet washcloths to pry my eyes open, and even when I couldn't open them, she was right there on the couch beside me, explaining what Ray Romano was doing during the episode (whichever episode it was). I will never forget the faithful friendship...and now look back and laugh. Thank you, Marion, for laughing and (literally) leading me back to healthy sight.

Now, I live alone, and I pray to the good Lord that I don't get attacked with another case of pinkeye like college days past. My fish can't do anything to help, and I'm pretty sure my cat Mick would take advantage of my handicap by tripping me. If you are a personal friend and like to watch "Everyone Loves Raymond" reruns, give me a call or hit me up on Facebook. I'd like to be proactive in case this deal goes bad.

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