Sally Jesse called

She wants her glasses back.

$37.33

That's my total now in donations, people, $37.33. THANK YOU! This money is all just sitting in my paypal account and won't be brought to my bank account until I have enough to book a date.

So in total right now I have:

$37.33 in donations
$200 gift certificate from Iris.

That's $237.33 already! Wow! And I got some AWESOME information from Andrea, the eyeball stabber, who has read my website, but I'll be saving that for last, people, because we always save the best for last, just like Vanessa Williams says to.

Now, here's what you really came here for:





This was Christmas 1990I was 15. I was also in a black hair phase, which I'm really not too happy with looking back. Look at the size of those lenses, people! And bright blue frames, to boot? My god I'm sure glad they don't make lenses that big anymore. My cheeks look freaking huge.



This was shortly after, New Years Day to be precise. We were watching the UW Huskies win the Rose Bowl, if I remember correctly. I look like I might be mid siezure. I don't know what my mom is doing.



This is when I was 17 and got a job at Ivars Seafood Restaurant. Ivars seriously has the best clam chowder and is when I got my certain addiction to french fries and tartar sauce. I wasn't too crazy about seafood at the time so that's what I would eat on my breaks. I really hated wearing my glasses and working there. I had to clean them constantly because of the grease I could never see clearly through them. My boss here was the worst. He would flirt with all the girls (even me with my big ass glasses) and if we came to work hung over he would give us horrible jobs like scraping gum from under the tables or scrubbing the grout along the walls. You know, things you love to do hungover.



This one is priceless. I'm 11 here and don't know what the hell kind of expression I am making, but I don't know why my legs look so skinny. I don't ever remember them being that skinny. I had the most horrible short pixie haircut, too, so I was a real winner at this point in my life.

You know what one phrase was said to me most during my childhood?

"Wow, you've got really big eyes."

I swear, Bubbles is my soul mate.



Now, onto saving the best for last. Do you want laser surgery? Do you want a $200 gift certificate? Iris has some awesome employees who have made me a deal. They are giving me a bunch of $200 gift certificates to give away. For everyone who uses it to pay for part of their eye surgery with one of these gift certificates, I will get $200 off of my sugery! YEAH! So, Iris has clinics in Quebec, Ontario, Alberta, Saskatchewan and of course British Columbia. If you are going to get laser surgery, this is the best company in Canada, just go check out their site www.iris.ca to find out. Go to one of their clinics and talk to them, they are great :) If you are getting surgery and want $200 off, email me at canadianpassioned@gmail.com and I'll send you a gift certificate. Isn't that completely cool of Andrea to totally hook me up!

Thanks Robin!

Thanks to Robin for donating to the cause :) I appreciate it and to show that to you I am going to add some new dork pictures...tomorrow. I found them todya while going through storage, but I have one more box to go through that I'm sure has a ton of good stuff in it.

Still can't find that one in the peach sweater...

My consult. How pathetic are my eyes?

Let’s try this again boys and girls, and put on our safety goggles this time (read: type in word first then transfer to blog).



Aren’t my pupils huge? More on why later…
Yesterday at 11am I had an appointment at Iris, a pre-surgical consult, basically to finalize for me if I’m a good candidate for laser eye surgery or not. I am still utterly pissed off that the hour and fifteen minutes I spent putting down everything that happened in an hour and a half appointment just vanished into the www abyss. What a waste of 75 minutes.

OK, deep breath, lets try this again and just block that little incident yesterday out of our minds. Even though I will always know yesterdays post was 100x better than this one and if this post doesn’t generate millions of dollars in revenue, ok, $2500, then I’m going to always, always, always blame it on the fact that yesterdays post disappeared.

So, the first smiling face I see there is Andrea, who I told all about this website and she said she’d check it out and maybe even donate, people! Hi Andrea! Andrea is the same girl who stabbed my eyeballs with a plastic knife after the seminar a week and a half ago. Seriously, if you’re going to have your eyeballs gouged out, this is the gal you want to do it. She does it with more human empathy than any other eyeball stabber I know. Of course she puts these numbing drops in your eyes first and they make your eyes feel like total fat asses. When she comes at your pupil with the plastic scalpel you instinctively want to move backwards but you can’t. When it hits your eye it looks as though you are underwater and someone taps the water gently above you. Very weird. Very trippy.

Anyway, this time there is no eyeball jabbing involved, unfortunately L. I’m so disappointed. Instead I have to put my chin on this rest and my forehead against a bar, and then Andrea moves this laser machine to right in front of my eye. It’s like a spiders web with a laser in the middle and I have to stare in it, keeping my eyes wide ass open, while Andrea says “don’t blink and don’t move, don’t blink and don’t move, don’t blink and don’t move”. Do you know how hard it is to not blink and not move when someone is telling you not to? That’s like saying don’t push the shiny, red button man! It just doesn’t work. I’m sure she had to do that test on me at least 3x, but she didn’t say anything because she is just too nice of an eyeball specialist to let me feel inadequate in the don’t blink and don’t move department.

Then I’m returned to the waiting room and have to see an actual doctor next. You know what’s better than a doctor? A hot-as-hell-doctor. You know what’s better than a hot-as-hell-doctor? A-hot-as-hell-doctor-with-a-kick-ass-personality on the side. And that’s who looked deep into my…pupils…yesterday. This doctor will from here on out be known as either Dr. Hottie or Dr. Joe Rogan, because he looks just like Joe Rogan, except less cocky. So he gives me the old eye chart test which I do really well with my left eye yet fail miserably with my right. After doing a few more tests he tells me my left eye totally rocks and will kick ass and see better than 20/20 after the surgery. But my right eye is a lame ass bitch and I’d still have to wear glasses. OK, he didn’t say it just like that, but that’s how I took it. You’d be getting surgery only to have to continue wearing glasses, although they’d be much thinner than the contraption I currently wear.

Now, I’m trying to be all cool and laid back, but I can feel my eyes warming up and getting wet. Great. I’m starting to leak. I try to downplay it as though I have something in my eyes but it doesn’t work because well I suck at not crying if I have to cry. I am pissed. Not at Dr. Hottie, it’s not his fault, but just at life in general. I don’t think anyone who knows me can really understand how much I hate my glasses. I have no memories ever of not needing them. They aren’t so bad now, however as a kid they were freaking huge coke bottles. With the latest technology they are diet coke bottles, but still magnify my eyes none-the-less. As Dr. Hottie is going on and on about how jacked up my right eye is all I can think is that I seriously want to gouge my eyeballs out with a real knife, none of this fake plastic shit. He starts telling me how I can get a lens transplant that would help and I asked him if BC Medical would pay for it, he says nu-huh (surprise surprise there) and that it’s around $5000. So of course in my pissed-off-at-my-eyeballs logic I’m thinking if I stab myself in the eyeballs maybe I’ll get a cornea transplant that would be covered. Fortunately this is only a fleeting thought and of course I would never stab my eyeballs out, but when you’re fed up with certain shit your mind does wander to thoughts like these.

Dr. Hottie gives me some tissues and says he’s going to go show my chart to the surgeon and see what he has to say. While he’s gone I put my head in my lap and try to squeeze out the rest of my tears because I seriously can’t believe I am so upset. OK I can, but I thought I’d at least be able to wait until I get in my car. I actually contemplate leaving, just walking out and going home, because I don’t want to listen to how shitty my right eyeball is anymore and that I’m going to be stuck with spectacles forever. I am still surprised I stuck around. I’m glad I did. Dr. Hottie comes back and tells me that Dr. Sutton has performed over 30,000 surgeries and that he’s confident he can correct my vision. No, it will never be 20/20, but I can live with that, it never has been and even with my glasses on I don’t see 20/20. I was telling my girlfriend the other night that I’d rather be 60 pounds overweight and have near-perfect vision than have a hot ass bod like Elisha Cuthbert and wear these horrible glasses or contacts. Yes, that’s how much I hate my glasses. I’d rather be a fat ass without them than a skinny ass with them.

I am still skeptical, I mean he just said it can’t be done and now suddenly it can? But, Iris is the top rated clinic in North America, people. They have the highest technology and I find it really hard to believe they’d tell me they could give me the surgery if they couldn’t. Unlike that other company I hear advertised on the radio all the time that says they can do it for $500 an eye. I met a very nice couple at the seminar who told me they knew quite a few people who went there and have nothing but complaints. Not the kind of company I want to trust my vision with.

Anyway, back on topic, Dr. Hottie says he is going to give me some more tests and needs to dilate my pupils, so he gives me illicit psychedelic drugs fuzzy drops in my eyes and sends me to the waiting room. I pick up a copy of Today’s Parent, which is like the best parenting magazine ever and is totally 100% Canadian, and after 10 minutes find an article I’m interested in (on direct sales) and of course this is when the drops start kicking in and all of the words are blurry. Craptaculour. When this blurry crap is in your eyes you can try all you want, you’re not going to be able to focus. So I throw that magazine down and grab Martha Stewart Kids. You’d think there’d be lots of big words in there that I’d be able to see but no, not so much. Damn.

Dr. Hottie calls me back in and again reiterates that they will be able to do the surgery on me. He also says that next week all the companies head doctors are flying in from Montreal and they are all going to convene on my chart to make sure they go about it properly. That’s some serious effed up vision, when doctors from Montreal fly in to look at your chart. OK, so they aren’t flying in just for that, but it sounds good, doesn’t it? I guess because my farsightedness is so awful it makes my astigmatism numbers go down or some mumbo jumbo like that.

Now why is it, that even if you are married, if you are around a “cute boy” stupid shit just flows out of your mouth. For example I asked Dr. Hottie what the point was of the magazines in the waiting room that don’t have large print, and he asked what article I wanted to read, and I mention direct sales. Then he notices I put self-employed on my chart and asks what I do, so we start talking about Passion Parties . He asks what kind of people attend the parties and I tell him everyone, women, couples, wild girls, mild girls, Christian girls (they would never go into a sex store) and mention I had just booked a party for some gay guys, and then I go on to say that if you turn the Gigi inside out it feels just like a butthole. Yeah. That’s the kind of thing you should tell cuties. He looks at me kind of like ‘I was not expecting that to come out of her mouth’. Of course I don’t think to tell him that Jane told me that, because as soon as Jane told me I immediately asked her how she knew (one of her customers told her). So I don’t even want to know how he thinks I knew that.

Anyway, this is getting long, and it’s still not nearly as charming and witty as the post I was up all night doing. By the way I was up all night because of my big ass dilated pupils. Taking that much light in your eyes gives you a mean headache, something only Mercyndol can cure, so I napped from 4pm until midnight and then was up until 5am this morning. Great. Now I have to fight the urge to nap today and drink hella coffee or else this is going to repeat. must.break.cycle.

I know this is a total crap ass post but still, click the donate button and support the cause. My bonus check this month with Passion Parties is $507 which is going towards the surgery. I’ve got roughly $31 donated from readers, so only a little under $2500 to go. $1500 if I win that $1000 gift certificate at the next seminar on April 2nd. I’ll just keep going and going until I win. No one wants this more than me. NO ONE.

You have got to be kidding me.

I just spent ONE HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES putting in a post about my pre surgical consult today and it didn't $%#*^#@$#@% post.

New photos coming soon...

In the meantime, thank you to Nikki in BAHRAIN for donating to the cause! BAHRAIN, PEOPLE!

This week has been incredibly busy for me, but I am going to go through my storage and get more dorkalicious pictures, trust me, there are way more!

I've been asked by my sister if I was mad at her because of what I had written last week here about her lying to me saying I don't look dorky in those pictures. Now, I was mad at her the week before for just driving by my house, but I'm over that! That was sooo last Tuesday. You'd think, being my sister, she would know that I have a constant stream of sarcastic goodness that comes out of my asshole, more often than gas.