I feel like such a failure.
I told Lavvy that if she wanted to go to "the authorities" and complain, I would back her up, and, since Ruth was there, I knew she would back Lavvy up too. Lavvy said she wasn't sure, since she didn't want to start a conflict.
Of course, the conflict has already started when that woman spoke to her that way.
Lavvy told me that, since she's moved here, she feels "tolerated, but not welcomed." That's pretty awful, and I didn't know she felt that way. I've tried my best to be nice to her, and I do genuinely like her. We have a lot in common.
Lavvy also mentioned that Faith had said that she was worried about a few women treating her badly before this incident happened, which makes me wonder what has happened before, and if it involved this same woman.
Showing posts with label failure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label failure. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Optometrist
Like most people, I hate going to see doctor's. But I recently realized what I really hate about going: socializing.
This seems like a strange thing to say, since I'm relatively social. But those people I socialize with are friends. I don't want to talk to my doctor's about stuff. When they ask "How are you?" I want that to be a cue to assert my overall health, not as a chance to catch up on my family, my career and the drama with that one friend.
With this in mind I went to see my optometrist. I sat in the waiting room, reading one of those celebrity magazines that I only look at when there's not something more sophisticated.
I went in with the assistant, an older woman. We tested various small things with my eyes. There's a test where you're suppose to tell if certain circles are jumping out at you while wearing 3-D glasses. As the years have gone on, I have failed more and more of that test.
Failing eye tests are nothing new. When I was thirteen, I had to take an eye test while at school. I failed the first time, with my glasses on. So they called me in a second time, and I failed a second time, again, with my glasses on. I tried to explain to the lady running the test I had really poor eyes, and I think she believed me, but I was really embarrassed by this. I didn't fail anything at that age.
We kept going through tests, and, even with my glasses on, it's amazing how little I can see. I think if I had lived before glasses, I would have been confined.
The doctor came in and I braced myself. This doctor really likes to socialize. It's not that I can't be polite, or that I can't speak back, but this particular doctor likes to talk about politics, and we do not share the same beliefs. Several years ago, he complained to me about a apparently gay English professor who tried to pick him up. I have gay friends, and I know there's almost no way this story is true. LBGT people are scared to pick people up if they don't know their sexuality, especially if they're doing so in an "unsafe" place. (They're more likely to pick up in a gay club or bar, but there it's expected and assumed you're okay with that.) I didn't really tell him I disagree, but I don't really want to talk to him about politics. I only rely on him over my eyes because my Mom insists, but the truth is I'd rather try someone else.
We had a long discussion about surgery. We've been considering surgery for my eyes for what seems like ever now. At least high school, though I think it goes back farther than that. (I was first told that I could use contacts at ten. I never have because something about putting shards of plastic in your eye strikes me as gross. I can't even look at someone who is putting in or taking out their contacts. It's one of the few things I find unsightly.)
Anyway, the surgery option is always on the table, though it's unclear if I qualify. I would need to get checked.
Thankfully, there was none of that. Instead, he went through the usual tests, checking my eyes with those various glasses. When he decided on something, we moved on to making sure I didn't have things like glaucoma.
I hate those eye drops that you get. They always make my eyes sting and they give me a headache. I don't even try to do anything after an eye exam, because I know it's futile to try.
This seems like a strange thing to say, since I'm relatively social. But those people I socialize with are friends. I don't want to talk to my doctor's about stuff. When they ask "How are you?" I want that to be a cue to assert my overall health, not as a chance to catch up on my family, my career and the drama with that one friend.
With this in mind I went to see my optometrist. I sat in the waiting room, reading one of those celebrity magazines that I only look at when there's not something more sophisticated.
I went in with the assistant, an older woman. We tested various small things with my eyes. There's a test where you're suppose to tell if certain circles are jumping out at you while wearing 3-D glasses. As the years have gone on, I have failed more and more of that test.
Failing eye tests are nothing new. When I was thirteen, I had to take an eye test while at school. I failed the first time, with my glasses on. So they called me in a second time, and I failed a second time, again, with my glasses on. I tried to explain to the lady running the test I had really poor eyes, and I think she believed me, but I was really embarrassed by this. I didn't fail anything at that age.
We kept going through tests, and, even with my glasses on, it's amazing how little I can see. I think if I had lived before glasses, I would have been confined.
The doctor came in and I braced myself. This doctor really likes to socialize. It's not that I can't be polite, or that I can't speak back, but this particular doctor likes to talk about politics, and we do not share the same beliefs. Several years ago, he complained to me about a apparently gay English professor who tried to pick him up. I have gay friends, and I know there's almost no way this story is true. LBGT people are scared to pick people up if they don't know their sexuality, especially if they're doing so in an "unsafe" place. (They're more likely to pick up in a gay club or bar, but there it's expected and assumed you're okay with that.) I didn't really tell him I disagree, but I don't really want to talk to him about politics. I only rely on him over my eyes because my Mom insists, but the truth is I'd rather try someone else.
We had a long discussion about surgery. We've been considering surgery for my eyes for what seems like ever now. At least high school, though I think it goes back farther than that. (I was first told that I could use contacts at ten. I never have because something about putting shards of plastic in your eye strikes me as gross. I can't even look at someone who is putting in or taking out their contacts. It's one of the few things I find unsightly.)
Anyway, the surgery option is always on the table, though it's unclear if I qualify. I would need to get checked.
Thankfully, there was none of that. Instead, he went through the usual tests, checking my eyes with those various glasses. When he decided on something, we moved on to making sure I didn't have things like glaucoma.
I hate those eye drops that you get. They always make my eyes sting and they give me a headache. I don't even try to do anything after an eye exam, because I know it's futile to try.
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