Insomnia and Lasik: 2 tales of woe and adventure

So the clock is about to strike 4:45 AM and I couldn't be more wide awake. I have downed 2 valiums and they seem to have stimulated my system as opposed to relaxing it. I'd have a cocktail (its 5 o'clock pm somewhere?) but I'm afraid I'll die, and that would suck.  So here I sit, at the computer, because there's nothing but infomercials on, and If I watch them I'll buy something.  So I have decided to give a detailed account of my recent medical procedure, because some funny shit happened, and I live at home, where my life feels like its on hold, so there's nothing else to write about. For now at least.


My surgery is scheduled for 1145am on a friday.  I plan to get there 5 minutes early, because I am good little Texan and I arrive to all of my interviews, appointments, and jobs early.  I will bring my mother with me, because she also has nothing else to do. I need someone to drive me home, because I will be heavily drugged and my sight will be compromised. So she packs up her copy of Tina Fey's "bossy pants" and I bring my sunglasses and waiver and off we go.  I sign in and we are directed to the waiting room, which is filled with people who are about to get Lasik and their cohorts. There is free coffee, water and cookies. There are also hundreds of AARP, fitness, and Texas Highways magazines.  In the corner of the room there is TV set that is showing the Lasik procedure that is currently happening.  It was one of the most terrifying visuals that I could possibly see right before undergoing the same procedure. There are metal clamps holding the persons eyes open and the guy has a sharp metal tool he's scraping across the persons eye and peeling a clear film off. As he begins to use this metal tool, the radio in the background starts to play "the first cut is the deepest." Then the screen goes dark, and then suddenly the doctor is using the same metal tool to put the film back on. He then uses a white spongy tool to scrape all of the air out from between the film and the eye. After observing this 2-3 times I'm shocked and dismayed when they call my name.  I go to the back room where they give me a pre examination and ask me if I've been using my eye drops. Then they take me to another room, give me a valium, and cover my head and feet with blue hospital ...bags?  And they wipe my eyes with iodine and give me some numbing drops.  Then I am led to the surgery room after about 15 minutes and I lay on the table. The most uncomfortable part of the procedure is the very first part. They put some weird suction thing on your eye that I guess keeps it open.  I don't know, there is so much pressure your vision goes dark.  Then the Doctor says, "Now this is when you want to hold very still, very good, just like that, very still, good job." Then they do the same thing to the other eye.  Before I know it, my eyelid is peeled back and I can see the metal tool that I know he is using to scrape part of my eye off. Though its scary, its painless and its cloudy, so I can't really see all that well. Then they move me under the laser that fixes my vision and they tell me to look at it and not look away.  My left eye takes 15 seconds to fix, and my right eye takes 40 seconds.  When they put my eye film back its even more cloudy than before and the sponge thing is actually kind of fun to watch glide across my vision. The whole ordeal is over in maybe 30 minutes or less.  About halfway home the numbing drops they gave me start to wear off and my eyes start to feel sore and irritated. I get home and go immediately to bed, because they suggested I try to sleep the rest of the day.  I wake up after an hour because the sun is shining directly into my room and even through closed eyes, the pain is too much to handle. I try to sleep through it but my eyes are watering so much that my pillow is soaked. I stumble down the hallway, bump into the wall, squint into the living room and call out in my most pathetic "i'm sick, take care of me voice," "DAD?!?!?!"  it turns out he's sitting about 4 feet away and has been enjoying watching me walk into walls while squinting and clutching my face.  I send him on a mission to get some asprin and more valium and to shut the storm shutters outside my window to block out the evil sun.  When all this is accomplished I nap for another 3 hours but its more like...laying still in the dark and occasionally forgetting that you are just laying in the dark.  I wake up officially and try to open my eyes. It hurts, but its not hell. I go outside and wander around. I can't read, use a computer, or phone, and watching tv hurts. I stumble into the office and request that my dad read me a story. He looks at me like I'm insane and then gives me ice cream for dinner. Then I take a sleeping pill and sleep until the next day at 630.  When I wake up my eyes are tender and it feels like I've been crying all night...which I guess technically I have, but there's no pain and, miracle of miracles...I can see!

I spend the morning reading things from a distance and closing my good eye and challenging my dad to hold up his fingers so i can tell him how many there are.  After 4.5 hours of this he tells me he is going to punch me if I continue in this fashion.  I have a follow up appointment the morning after surgery and the Doc tells me I look perfect. Good to hear either way.  So it's been exactly a week since my procedure and the Doctor told me my vision would keep improving over the next 3-4 weeks as swelling in my eye tissue goes down. I might have to get my right eye corrected again, but they do it for free and I'll probably be less terrified since I know what to expect now.

All in all, it was totally worth it. I'll make the money I was spending in contacts and glasses back in the next 5-6 years and then there is the added convenience factor to boot. I love Lasik. If you're young its a totally good investment, you save soooo much money in the long run. Just make sure you have someone around after the surgery because it hurts and it helps to whine to someone.

Dear 16 year old Jessie,

You are not a bitch and its not "mean" or "demanding" to ask that people treat you with common courtesy.

You have curly hair. It's not "straight-ish," it's not "wavy," it's curly. Embrace it. Layer it and use conditioner, your mother doesn't know what she's talking about. It doesn't make your hair look greasy. It will improve the state of things very much.

You're not ugly, and you're not fat. The people telling you that you are ugly and fat are actually jealous of you. They will admit this in 10 years.

16  year old Jessie (approximately 16 give or take)

This next bit is very important. I can't stress it enough.  THROW AWAY THOSE AWFUL JEANS. you look like a spoon, and its not flattering.

and look, hey...maybe you did just become a Christian, and yes its exciting, and good for you, wanting to share that joy. Don't force it on any one though...God never said, "Go forth and badger people" he basically said, "go and love them like I do." Just give that a go. Also- know that the length of time someone is a believer doesn't make them "more Christian" than you, and it's totally fine to share your interpretation of scripture because you have a unique perspective.

Sell your horse, you're not into it any more and that's ok. Most people don't pick these things up for life. You tried it, it was fun for a while, its fine to move on.

You are going to do a lot more traveling than you planned, and you're going to be alone a lot more than you planned. You're going to love it 80% of the time and hate it 15% of the time and 5% of the time you're not going to give 2 shits about any of it.   But don't worry, because you're tough and you always figure something out. Just remember, sleeping outside in New Zealand...totally safe. Sleeping outside in Australia...you'll probably get bit by a poisonous spider and die, and sleeping outside in Asia will get you robbed or raped so be careful.

Oh and don't bother with NHS, it's a total waste of time and money, you can put it on your college apps and no one will check because NO ONE CARES.

 25 year old Jessie. Older and wiser. And fatter.

The Future

I have just made a shocking realization. I am almost unemployable. I haven't actually been looking for jobs, but i will be soon and I have this gnawing feeling that my inability to hold a job...or live in one city...for more than 3 months is going to be a red flag for a lot of future employers. Also...People would rather employ a young person over an old one. I know, I'll probably have the next 10 years to be considered young by the work force (by LA standards I am a hag already and if I were to attempt joining the Millionaire Matchmaker club I would be set up with men in their early fifties who were "settling" for me and could maybe learn to love me despite my decrepit-ness.) Back to the point- this means that in the next 10 years I need to find a country...hell- a continent that I want to live on and choose a career path for myself.  I'm sorry, but that is just not enough time. I am commitment phobic in every sense of the word (phrase?). I only dye my hair with the semi permanent stuff that washes out after 28 shampoos. I don't purchase books, I read them in the bookstore (I do something similar with nail polish). About the only things I'm committed too are my key ring (had it since I was 16) and my teddy bear-ted (had him since I was 3).  Oh and also my never ending quest to find the perfect remedy that will halt the aging process, minimize my pores, and fight cancer. So far I've got sunscreen, retinol, exfoliation and dark colored foods, spinach or bluberries for example. If any one has any tips for staying young looking and having perfect skin, please email me immediately.

Any way, I have ten years of youth to make my life head in a steady direction. I DON'T WANNA!  What if the country I pick sucks? What if the job I go with is suckier? What if I have a baby and he/she is a total asshole?  These are the question that keep me awake at night. Well, that and I have to drive my dad to the airport at 4am today.

Home James

So I've been home a month now. I feel like I have taken boredom to new heights. Almost all the things I needed to get done are finished, with the exception of notarizing and mailing some things off; but I can't do that until this holiday weekend is over. I also need to send money to many different places, but again, won't have any until the holiday weekend is over. I recall this time last year I was about to leave for asia. Memories.

I fill my time with watching pre-recorded episodes of four weddings, talk soup, and Chelsea Lately. I also have started many different craft projects that include glitter and feathers, and I go to Barnes and Knoble bookstore every day and copy down a tasty recipe from a cookbook that i wish to try and read an excerpt from the book "jitterbug perfume" by Tom Robbins. I occasionally leaf through a girly magazine, but they all say the same effing thing so they usually just bore/annoy me. "Lose weight, smokey eyes are in, and please a man with these new 75 different techniques of touching his junk." I know I need to lose weight, and I also know reading a magazine is not going to help me with the situation. I know smokey eyes are in. Put on some black eyeliner and some dark shadow and then take a nap. Your eyes will be smudged and you'll feel refreshed for a long night of good times. There are not going to be 75 new ways to touch a penis every month. Besides, I'm pretty sure just showing up and consenting is exciting enough for most men.

Some really exciting moments include the occasional trip to HEB where I buy things to unclog my pores and moisturize my hair. Sometimes I go to the beach, but not on weekends because thats when all the families are out and I don't want to be around the stupid families that think its sooooo fun and cute to feed the damn seagulls. First of all, birds are gross and evil. Second, feeding them makes them louder and more annoying than they already are. And finally, you increase the amount of bird shit that ends up on your car, and increase the likelihood that you will get shit on yourself when you feed the flying nuisances. Just saying.

Hopefully my time at home will speed along nicely. I'm pretty surprised it's already been a month that I've been back, so that's a good sign. I think having a routine and spending time visiting friends in other parts of Texas has been good for hurrying things along. I'm hoping that I'll be receiving some visitors shortly (hint hint) to keep time from screeching to a stand still.

Racism and travel

Traveling makes you more racist. It's just a simple fact. I'm not saying that after traveling you dislike a certain people group more than you did before you explored their homeland and experienced their culture firsthand (although it's a definite possibility); but I am saying that your belief in certain stereotypes goes from, "yeah how funny but wrong to say out loud," to "It's funny because it's entirely true."

Case in point: Asians are terrible drivers. I'm not saying this to piss off any asians out there. I have traveled through the general area by car, bus, motorcycle and tuk tuk, and I have to say- they are the most terrifying people behind the wheel of any automobile. One way roads? drive where you want, the other cars will see you and move. An inch of space? Just get out there and fight for it, it'll open up. The road is closed due to massive mudslides? Carve a new road with just your bus tires and some enthusiasm.

Another interesting fact about travel and racism- The Chinese don't like black people. I don't know why, I don't speak Mandarin or Cantonese so i can't ask them, but there is a high level of mistrust between the two groups. So imagine my surprise when I got to China and discovered that they have all the same food passions that Black Americans do. Fried chicken, watermelon, and grape flavored beverages, all things both people love. There are more KFC's in China than any other restaurant chain.

Another thing- in chinese food places in china, they do not give you fortune cookies. They also don't like cheese, but thats a whole other blog. Back to the fortunes...or lack thereof, in place of fortune cookies its best to look at t-shirts that have english phrases on them. My favorites included "if you're not believing in love then miracles are death," and "My friends are white and rainbow colors too."

Speaking of t-shirts in china-Couples in china like to dress the same. I saw a couple...they looked to be around 13, so they were probably in their mid 30s, wearing matching minnie mouse tshirts and white jeans.

thanks for reading.

H-town

I spent the last 4 days in Houston with my bff's. Here are my top ten moments from the weekend.

10. The old woman sitting in front of me on the way home coughing up mucus and spitting it into a plastic bag she kept in the empty seat next to her.

9. The Old man on the way to Houston who ate an ear of corn half way through the journey. Who brings corn on the cob on the bus as a mid day snack?

8. Seeing baby Violet's reaction to bubbles. Bubbles are awesome. Violet reminded me of this.

7. On my way to the parking lot where I was being picked up, I was smiling in anticipation of a joyful reunion. 2 black guys noticed my happiness and commented, "Look at you! Smiling! You look happy! Whoever he is, he's gonna be happier."

6. Going to the bathroom in the restaurant and redoing the part in my hair to conceal my gray streak better and being scoffed at by a total stranger who was booty dancing and speaking Spanish by herself in the toilet.

5. Eating my first Tex-mex in over a year! (delish, oh how I missed corn tortillas.)

4. teasing my friends roomate and her being totally oblivious to my ever so subtle digs.

3. Spreading the love and joy that is the Miranda Hart show.

2. BEING WITH MY 'ZONS AGAIN!

1. Being with all my college buddies again. I've missed them since graduation. Eat 'em up cats!

the end.

America!

After a joyous and challenging 8 months in Australia, I decided to pack it in and fly home. There were several reasons I did this, the main ones being it was going to be a real bitch to apply for visa to the UK from Australia as a US citizen, and my schedule for the school year of 2011 doesnt give me enough time to fly home for christmas. My journey home was significantly challenging because a) Australian airports are ridiculous and B) I was carrying an extra bag that wasn't mine.

So first off I need to take a bus from Byron bay to Brisbane because the 2 dudes i know that live in brisbane can't drive me up there. In the end the incredibly kind and generous woman I've been staying with, Wilamina, offers to take me So I take the 4 hour bus ride up to brisbane, and, as My plane leaves at 8 am, and its an international flight so I have to be there at 6am, I choose to just sleep at the bus terminal on the floor. The only proboblem with this is that the bus terminal closes at 1 am and opens back up at 4 am. At 1245am a security gaurd approaches me with full intentions of kicking me out onto the street. We end up chatting because I am a girl. Turns out this guy is from Chicago and misses American girls (well I just happen to be one!) so in the end, he lets me sleep on this balcony where he can make sure i'm not being assaulted or stealing anything on the security camera. then at 4 he wakes me up and helps me carry my things inside. At this point I want to punch kadi (the girl whose bag I am taking) in the face because its so ridiculously difficult to travel with her heavy ass rolly bag and I feel like a total asshole for being "one of those backpackers" that has too much and can't bear to part with anything. I mean...the point of backpacking is to travel light and take just what you need, and take only what you can carry. SO you look like a real douche if you walk around with more bags than you have hands for. Any way, my Chicago buddy stays and flirts with me for a while (only God knows why, I looked sooo shitty after sleeping outside on a concrete balcony for 3 hours) and then goes back to guarding the bus terminal and I go to sleep until 545. Now, I am at a point in my tale where I just have to say it...This is why American boys are the smoothest and have the best game, by far, of any country I have been hit on by yet. I woke up and Evan (my Chicago buddy) has left me a note that says, "I didn't want to wake you again but I left already, call me if you pass through again, you can stay with me and not in the bus terminal. Have a good Easter!" He left his number and facebook details, and a chocolate Easter egg. I mean...it doesn't sound like much, but it was nice to wake up too, plus it was the only Easter pleasantry or candy that anyone gave me.

So anyway, I take the train to the Brisbane International airport and I go to check into my flight and the woman at the desk is like..."no, we don't have your booking, go talk to the sales desk." So I go to the sales desk and that girl also cant find my booking and is a real bitch about it.
"I'm sorry miss, that reference number isn't coming up on our system."
me-"Can I pull my email account up and show you that?"
"No, we can't do that."
me- "So I need to find a computer and printer in the airport and bring it to you? that's my only option?"
"Yes"
me- "what if I can't find one, I'm just screwed?"
"you can buy another ticket."
me-"ok, so then yes, screwed, because I only have enough money for the ONE ticket that I ALREADY bought."

I mean...the woman was just SUCH a cunt about it. She didn't seem to give 2 shits about me or my dire circumstances, and she absolutely refused to do anything helpful, like tell me where a computer was, or search the other systems to find my name.

So I find a computer, but the printer of course, doesn't work, so I write down every single number, every single flight detail I can think of ans take it over to her. She glances at it, tells me I need to go to the domestic airport and basically tells me to fuck off. Now, I took the train for $15 to the international airport because that's what my effing itinerary told me to do. So I have to pay another $5 to transfer to the domestic airport, meanwhile the rolly bag I'm carrying is starting to realllly piss me off, because its just so difficult to maneuver around, especially going up and down stares, as it weighs 23 kilos, (around 50lbs). So the bus rocks up, I spend like 15 minutes pissing everyone in line behind me off because I take so long to get the rolly bag and my duffel bag on the bus and in the baggage area. I finally get to the airport, and Im checking in, and the guy at the front desk tells me I have too much baggage and I can pay $20 extra per kilo (which would have been over $400) or i can throw some stuff away. I start crying because I dont even have phone credit to call Kadi and see what she wants me to get rid of and what she wants me to keep. I mean, sure its inconvenient but I wouldnt be happy if anyone went through my things and through half of them away...but thats what I do. It turns out Kadi has a shit ton of paper and books so that really helps and after that i just throw away stuff i've never seen her wear. A woman who has been a part of plight from the beggining of the check in process helps me out by "fudging the numbers a little" (she is by the way, shocked that I would haul an extra bag around for a friend) but she helps me out and I finally get to get rid of my heavy and inconvenient bags and get on the damn plane. So fly to Sydney, and then to Fiji. When I get to fiji I have a few hours layover. I asked a woman wearing a yellow work vest where the toilet was (the fiji airport is a big square and its pretty difficult to see the signs for some reason) and she smiled at me like she'd eaten sunshine and rainbows for breakfast and very enthusiastically pointed me in the right direction. So after about an hour I get paged on the intercom, "will Passenger Jessica Taylor please report to gate 7, you have an important message, passenger Jessica Taylor to gate 7." So I go to gate 7 and they have my passport and boarding pass (eek) and I get another extremely cheerful and enthusiastic tongue lashing from the employees with my passport. "Miss Taylor! You must keep watch on your things or can't board the plane!" this message was accompanied by a delighted grin and hand gestures. I don't know whats in the water in fiji, but I want to go back and find out.

So then I land in LA, and I take another bus over to where I fly to Dallas from and at check out there (virgin american) the woman tells me that I have to pay $50 for the 2 bags I'm checking. At this point I think so little of most transport services that the news doesnt even shock me. I warily ask her why, after flying internationally, I am not allowed to have checked luggage, and she says its the airlines deal, not hers personally, but she feels bad about it and gives me a better seat than the one I originally had. Please note the difference between this lady and the Australian bitch who was happy to make me pay $2000 extra dollars on my way home. SO I board the plane and its got purple lights and all the window shades are down. It looks like one of snoop dogs air crafts from his hit movie "Soul Plane." I land in Dallas and flights into Corpus Christi are cancelled, because Dallas has been having tornadoes and such in the area. So I go to Avis, rent a car, and drive all night. At 3 am I take a nap in an IHOP parking lot (I've never felt classier) and then continue on with my journey.

So i've been home for a week now, everything is good but I am still having trouble sleeping. I'm not sure if it's my bed, the temperature, the time change, or if my body is just super pissed at me. I sleep only fitfully, and only for 3-4 hour increments. Whatevs. I'm getting some sleeping pills tomorrow. For real.