Progress?

My friend and awesome thinker Stephanie shared this with me:

Nnekay Goes to Kaiser

A few days ago I went to the hospital.

Not in a OMGYOUAREDYING sort of way, more like a "crap, I need to check this weirdness out".

Last week, I started getting pains under my left eyeball. I thought it was nothing, but during a dramatic after work ramble of exhaustion to my roommate, Heather, I flamboyantly mentioned the pains of my eyeball while theatrically covering it with my right hand. I expected her to calmly shrug off my pleas like she normally does to my insanities, but instead she looked tensely at me, and suggested that I at the least call a nurse for advice. Not expecting this reaction, I became a little more worried than dramatic and dialed the advice nurse. After 30 minutes of smooth jazz I found myself trying to explain my problems... which out loud sounded SO. LAME.

Me: um... under my left eye... it hurts.
Nurse: is it red?
Me: no.
Nurse: does it hurt when you move your eye around?
Me: yea... uhh... no.
Nurse: are there bumps on or around your eye?
Me: ew...no.
Nurse: is your sight tinted with red?
Me: no.
Nurse: swollen?
Me: no.
Nurse: Discharge?
Me: no.
Nurse: Vision worse?
Me: no.
Nurse: Yea, you should probably come in and see a doctor.
Me: What?!

She explained that eye pain around the muscle could be bad, so the next morning I made an appointment to have some random doctor poke around my face.

Kaiser is a large looming type of multi-building complex in the middle of Downtown Oakland. When I was circling the parking lot the large colored numbers representing each floor brought back floods of memories from when I was a sickly clumsy child. I had a folder the size of an dictionary due to my frequent falls and gangly limbs that were prone to breakage. As an adult, I suddenly realized how expensive I was as child.

When I initially called to schedule my appointment the receptionist who clearly hated life and all humanity, delicately placed the fear of God in me, when explaining that I could not be late:

DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT BEING LATE, WE WILL GIVE YOUR APPOINTMENT TO SOMEONE ELSE AGHHHH!

As a result I was 45 minutes early.

Sitting in the waiting room, I thought to myself, "this will be fine- you brought a book and you have your fancy new iphone."

Twenty minutes into checking my Facebook News Feed for the 50th time, a mother and her two sons showed up. One kid was probably 11 or 12, still kinda dopey kid style, but starting to get that teenage grossness about him. The other was a bald little warrior of a three year old. He had on a rad sweatsuit and a wild flair in his eyes. The mother exhausted tried to wrangle the warrior, but he being the brute that he was, freed himself and went running wildly around a group of chairs. He kicked, screamed, jumped, swatted, and finally a full battle cry complete with two arms fisted into the air. Just looking at this kid my eye throbbed. He didn't stop for a full 20 minutes. Until the doctor, a mild mannered man with a gold pinkie ring emblazoned with peace signs poked his head out, looked directly at me and said, "I think... I'm looking for you." I sighed for once in my life I would love it if I actually got to experience a doctor or nurse come into the waiting room and say "Nnekay FitzClarke, please" instead of the:

"err... um... fitz...clarke...ah...um..."

I followed the gentleman into his exam room which was filled with so many gadgets I half expected a beaker with bubbling green fluid tucked in somewhere. I sat down on in the clinical exam chair, and after some mild chuckles he placed my face in a vice sort of thing and began to poke around my eyeballs with a long q-tip... oh excuse me cotton swab.

This started the water works.

As he poked around, my eyes began to pee all over my face- I kept apologizing,

"I'm so sorry... I dunno why my eyes are doing this... I'm so sorry.. oh my god... I'm so sorry."

Which I now believe is possibly one of the lowest moments of my adult life.

He paused and muttered, "Ooooo, I see some swollen glands chuckle chuckle chuckle. Let me get a squeeze. This might hurt."

It hurt like a bitch, which cause real tears... I guess... my eyes were a constant stream as soon as he started harassing them with that damn q-tip. "Yes," he continued to mutter, "There seems to be a waxy toothpaste-y type substance coming from your glands... you have an infection."

Yes, dear reader like you... I almost barfed.

He gave me a prescription for some meds and I fled, leaving Mr. Stabby and his pinkie ring behind.

The waiting room for drugs was drab... even though it was filled with windows. After going up to the counter a woman with a spiderwebby hairline informed me that it would be a 30 minute wait. She was definitely trying to convince me to leave, but I was tired and my eyes were pointing in different directions, so I figured a 30 minute wait would do me well.

Five minutes later my name was called.

I sighed and went to grab the small bottle. As I was walking away, some young baby of a man decided it would be an appropriate time to approach me... perhaps to invite me out to an elegant dinner,

"EH!! Lil' Miss, EHH! Lemme talk at ya for a minute."

I have to say, I've been approached in some random spots, but a hospital pharmacy has got to be the worst. I mean I could be picking up swabs for the exploding sores on my ass... we're all here cause something is wrong with us... call me picky but I probably wouldn't be looking for a future bedroom companion at this joint. So I continued on, he wasn't even worth the "I HAVE A MAN." defense.

As I descended down the spiraling stair case to freedom, I heard a faint, "shit, you ain't gotta be so rude..."

I laughed as I entered the warm sunlight.

For Sadako

I wish I could make 1000 paper cranes for Japan.

Like that book which made us cry at a weirdly young age to be reading about touching thought provoking stuff.

Even though I have incredibly nimble lightening fast fingers, I doubt my 1000 paper cranes wish, could repair all the damage or soak up all the toxic insanity that is going on overseas.

I'm going to keep sending positive thoughts to the people who are suffering.

I'm going to ignore all the ridiculous sensationalized stories, meant to drum up fear.

I'm also going to donate... not a lot, because I don't have the means, but just like the story with Sadako, in order to reach 1000 paper cranes you have to start with one tiny little bit of folded paper.

Donate:

The Red Cross

Or

Text REDCROSS to 90999 to give a $10 donation.

Is It Summer Yet?

Old Lady Rant

Once upon a time I used to be awkward. That point in my life was just a blur of stomach gurgles, and sleeves pulled over my fingers, because for some reason that made me feel more secure.

Then, like any common place grub, I went into to hibernation- and came out a fluttering butterfly in cheap, but sexy clothing.

This time was grand.

Not only could I drink, but I was the youngest in the club, and therefore the best- well, what I thought at least. Booze, work, and failed relationships had yet to scratch the surface of my fresh baby-butt skin.

Then one day I woke up 28.

Still young, but just starting to feel the cold handshake of death.

My back hurts, hangovers are now a bitchier bitch than they used to be, and gray hair (nooooooooo).

Sigh, I could actually kinda handle this bullshit, if I didn't work at an All Woman's College. A lady land of cavorting women, fresh, idealistic, and lacking of bras.

It's the juniors, I really despise.

The freshman are basically glorified babies... flopping around the campus like misshapen muppets.

The sophomores... I mean, to be sophomoric is to be stupid.

The seniors- well, they're about to be spat out into a cruel-cruel world, so I can't really be jealous of their blind optimism, which will get crushed in a stampede of rejected resumes.

Oh, but the juniors... damn you juniors!!! Just turned 21 year olds cushioned in the comfort of college. By this point they know exactly how to work the system, taking all late afternoon classes, frequenting local bars, and still fresh enough to engage in social activist conversations most seniors can't help but roll their jaded eyes too.

I shake my fist at you third years!!!! Enjoy it while it's hot cause, baby shit will get real in a couple of years.

Rock Bottom

Everyone has moments when the bottom of the barrel has been completely scraped.

Sometimes it manifest in clothing:

"All my underwear is dirty, so I'm wearing bikini bottoms..."

Sometimes it manifest in television:

"I watched 5 hours of 'Say Yes to the Dress' last night..."

And sometimes it manifest in food, like it did for me two Saturday mornings ago. I woke up with a strong desire to eat cereal. I knew that I didn't have any, but I remembered Heather, my roommate did.

Step one: Steal food.

When I went to the kitchen and looked in the cabinet, I saw her bag of granola... I sighed, I was hoping for something better than granola, but it was all that was there, and I really wanted cereal.

Step two: Steal something lame like granola.

What I did know, was that I had Soy Milk... I went into my refrigerator, pulled out the blue carton and sniffed it. It smelled fine, but the expiration date told a whole different story. I figured this date was just something the company printed to protect their asses, but since it was a month expired I decided to do the pour test in the sink.

Clumps.

I had already added my granola to the bowl, and started to analyze my options. I didn't want to try to eat dry granola, thus shredding the roof of my mouth into a horror show of ripped flesh. I looked sadly at the water faucet, and turned my head away in disgust- how dare I even consider such an abysmal option.

Water-Granola is the saddest thing shy of a Rodeo Clown.

Then, like a lightning bolt from the heavens it dawned on me.

Step Three: Use Non Dairy powder creamer mixed with water as "milk"

As I shook the French Vanilla power over the cereal, a tiny little voice whispered, "you've hit rock bottom."

As I turned the faucet on and watched it bubble up through the chunks of granola and power, the voice clearly stated, "Wow, Nnekay, you've hit rock bottom."

As I mixed the glop into something the reminded me of what porridge must look like the voice sighed and said, "Are you really going to do it!?"

... and I did... I ate it.

It was... good-ish?

Tuesday Trendz: OscarBarf

After looking at hundreds (okay maybe like 30) red carpet pictures of thespians and their stretchy faces and shrink wrapped bodies I have one thing to say about Sunday's Night of Glamor:

Snooze, Fart, Turn-Over

Good grief what the hell happened to everyone? Were they too afraid of what that evil plastic witch, Joan Rivers would say? I wish there were more risks. I wish there was more glam. I wish there was some sort of statement: political or insane, I don't care... I want to be knocked on my caboose by the ridiculousness of you overpaid drama nerds.

Instead I got a barrel of "meh" with a side of "who cares". Anyway here are some of the dresses that rated higher than a stale cookie.



Anne Hathaway, Atelier Versace

Couple things about good ole Anne: Props for rocking 8 looks that night, kept me from being annoyed with her showboat theater geek antics. I liked the the Versace dress the most- the detailing on the bodice was unusual, fresh, and interesting to look at. Plus I feel this frock matched her age the most appropriately. Not too baby-frou frou, and not too matron long sleeves. Ya... she kinda looks like a vampire, but whatever people are still jonesing for that Twilight crap.



Camila Alves, Kaufman Franco

Oh Cammy, you look like you could fit an entire Matthew McConnaughey under that gown, but I thank you for finding something that was kinda prom-y and awesome. The band around the waist, the negative neckline, and the POCKETS (yay!!!)



Cate Blanchett, Givency Couture

Okay, so many people gave this dress shit, and I think this is the reason why Oscar fashion was such crap this year. All the loud mouth peons thwarting fashion risks, only to make things BORING. I mean it's like Gladiator Gone Pink, and only Cate Blanchett's tough ass could pull this off.



Mila Kunis, Elie Saab

I say "yes" to this dress. While watching the red carpet a friend of mine blurted, "it looks like her boob might fall out," well, you know what? I would wear this dress even if I had one of my big ole nips peeping through the whole time. The lavender color and her dark hair were a perfect match. The lace and the slight sexiness of peekaboo skin was spot on.



Emma Roberts, Jenny Packman

What the hell? Isn't she a baby?! Anyway, I give baby Julia props for bringing on the sparkle. Gotta love those see through-sleeves. You done good, child, you done good.