Swallow Your Pride

Sometimes, it’s hard to admit when you’re wrong. If you’re like me, it’s damn near impossible to admit when you’re wrong (because you’re so rarely wrong and you’re just not used to that yet). But sometimes, even if it’s ever so rarely, you are wrong. So here goes, time to swallow it up and admit it.

I was wrong. I used to blame everything on that one person and I was wrong. It wasn’t in her hands. It wasn’t in anyone’s hands. It was me. I AM STEPHANIE BELL HAR HAR HAR I LOVE KATIE HAHAHA SHES DOING SOMETHING FOR MY SKYPE FIR ME RIGHT NOW HELLO HELOOO I LOVE KATIE HAHAHAHAHAHA WERE BEST FRIENDS EVEN THOUGH SHE CONSTANTLY PICKS ON ME FOR MY SPEECH ISSUES MY FIRST LANGUAGE ISNT ENGLISH I CANT HELP IT THAT SOMETIMES I ENGLISH VERY WELL BUT SOMETIMES NO ANYWAYS BYE BYE HAVE FUN READING HER SAD, TYPED DIARY HAHAH HAVE A NICE DAY. <33333

LOVE STEPHANIE BELL.

^^Alright so I had a totally different idea for this post but my friend and I swapped laptops so I could help her out with something and this was the result. I don’t have it in me to finish/change this post right now so here it is.

P.S: English IS her first language and she picks on me just as often as I pick on her, if not, more.

Traumatic Acquisition of Spectacles

I, a sixteen year old girl, grew up in a school system where we were screened for our vision once a year, every year for as long as I can remember. It’s called a ‘physical’ if you could really consider it that. Especially when the school nurse does it, it isn’t exactly thorough, but can you blame her? I mean, the poor lady has to see at least 800 kids in one week (I go to a relatively small school).

However, due to this routine screening and also regular visits to the doctor, I had NO reason to believe there was anything wrong with my vision. Me, the girl who had done vision screenings for at least TEN YEARS.

Well, one day I went to my doctor and, low and behold, I’ve got pretty awful vision in one eye. I’m not angry about this, but honestly if my right eye was ever below-par and you neglected to tell my parents I should see an optometrist then I’m going to hold a bit of a grudge.

I wouldn’t have, if it weren’t for the fact that the nurse was such a snob when I was being tested. With her snide little “Can you read the line above that? How about the next one up? Above that one?” No, lady. I can’t. It’s too blurry. Is that a C, G, or an O? Can anyone even read these things?

Then she proceeds to say “You’ll be driving soon?” in that stupid little condescending tone. Sorry that you never told me I needed glasses, woman. Since it wasn’t corrected, it got worse. Your fault.

Even this wouldn’t have forced me to hold a grudge. But no, when I saw the optometrist (sweetest guy on the planet), he asked in disbelief “You’re school screens your vision every year and they never said anything?” No, they didn’t. Because they really don’t care.

After the doctor’s little “Which one is better, 1 or 2?” session (is there even a difference for 50% of the options because I’m pretty sure there isn’t) he put in eye drops with the line “Now these are going to numb your eye.”

Yeah, now there’s trouble.

Here is the part where I explain that I am a mess. Just an absolute wreck that can be very hard to understand at times which is why I will probably never have a successful relationship. Some of the things that makes me a mess is my anxiety/insane fears/ panic attacks. One of these insane fears is people touching/things touching/any contact with my eyes whatsoever.

Naturally, when goopy stuff is put in my eye along with the announcement that it is for the purpose of numbing my eyes so that I won’t feel what he’s about to do to my eye. . . yeah, trouble.

I basically started to have a panic attack. Hyperventilating, shaking, sweating, went white in the face panic attack. I can look back on it and laugh and also say “what in the world is wrong with me.”

The purpose of the drops, for anyone who has been to the optometrist, is so that he could test the pressure in my eyes. Depending on the doctor, I know a lot of them use the ‘poof test’ where they have a machine blow a puff of air into your eye. My doctor has a little instrument instead that he uses to just touch your eye, though you never really feel it. It just looks like it’s coming really close to your eye. This, for obvious reasons, terrified me. Made me cringe. Then the doctor said the famous line that stuck in my memory and will never leave. . . “Are you hyperventilating?” Yeah, I am, doc. Thanks for noticing.

God I hope he doesn’t peruse the blogosphere in his free time because he would totally know this is me.

Anyway, then they did the little “these are for dilating your eye” which meant more eye drops which we all know are so popular with me. They sent me out into the waiting room until I was all dilated where the receptionist expressed her concern for me.

“Are you okay? You look really pale. Are you going to pass out? Would you like something to drink? I’m going to get you something to drink.” I didn’t want anything to drink. She brought me pepsi. I hate soda. They made me drink it anyway.

Now, about a month later, I have my glasses and I’m using them right now. You’d be so proud. No, you wouldn’t, but I need to feel some sense of pride that I survived that experience.

And now the end. I never know how to end these things.

So uhm. . .

See you next Monday,

You know,

If you follow me.

If not

 

 

 

 

 

 

YOUR LOSS!!!!!!

The Dreaded Year

Well, it’s the first Monday of my junior year of high school and I’m back to blogging. After my hiatus, I’m just going to ignore that it ever happened rather than explaining it to you because I figure most of you don’t actually care, and I don’t want to waste your time.

So here we are, another school year begun, another new set of books, pens, pencils, glasses, clothes and teachers. Junior year, the dreaded year, the year I have been warned about time and time again, especially as an honors student. So far, high school has been as follows:

Freshman Year: the year of loneliness (don’t worry, things have gotten better)

Sophomore Year: the year of activities

Junior Year: yet to be decided, but if all goes according to legend, it will become ‘the year of homework’

Homework

This may come as a shock to. . . well. . . everyone, but I actually enjoy school. I like being able to see my friends. I appreciate the opportunity to get smarter. I enjoy learning.

I, however, DO NOT like homework, or getting up in the morning, or taking tests, or the fact that our value as a person is decided by a number we have to earn by being quizzed on things we might not be good at, like history or math. 

I understand that having signed up for all honors classes, I have basically sacrificed any social life I possess in order to maintain good grades. I accept it. Hell, I welcome it. But things that I have heard about teachers that I have this year are far worse than any homework horror story the now-seniors can feed to me.

Last Minute Homework

One teacher, according to common tales, is just the opposite of what you would hope for in a teacher. A teacher that speeds through material and proceeds to talk to you as if you’re stupid when you ask her questions. Evidence thus far in the school year has indicated these tales are 100% true.

A teacher could give me a mountain of homework and a multitude of essays to write and still not be as bad as this teacher, because this is the worst injustice a teacher could pull on a student. Teachers are supposed to help you if you need it. They tell you to ask questions if you need help. Their main goal in their job is to help you succeed, so why would any one of them treat you like you’re stupid when you ask a question?

Other than that particular teacher, looks like this year will be loaded with homework, which is manageable if I ‘budget my time wisely’ as they keep reminding me. The most terrifying thing would be play season, especially considering I will be auditioning for both the fall play, and the winter musical.

More Homework

Consider this post a bit of a heads up, play/homework/school related posts are coming! Auditions are around the corner so trust me, it’s coming.

Besides that, have an awesome week. I’ll be back here again on Monday to share with you all the tale of my acquisition of glasses.