I Will Remain ...

Andy Cohen determines Housewives are making him cross-eyed.

Though it seemed vain, stupid, and potentially dangerous, I went on a research mission, of mercy, to a highly recommended opthamologist yesterday to see about uncrossing my eyes. I had mixed feelings but wanted to put the "issue" to rest.

I was first examined by a woman who took my vitals (v-eye-tals?) and attempted to take measurements of my walled-eye to determine how "off" I am. Ironically and hilariously, she told me that my eyes weren't reading as crossed or wandering at all, so she put a patch on my right
eye and had me sit in the waiting room for 20 minutes. She assured me that one eye would become lazy and I would return to the doctor looking like a zombie. Or Streisand. Or both.

After 20 minutes of one-eyed Blackberrying (good times!) I was summoned to the bigwig doctor, who unpatched me to reveal my Barbra-ness. He had me look in various directions, follow a pencil with my wobbly eyes, read numbers on the wall, put on 3-D glasses and identify the flying bullseyes. 

I asked him to tell me about the procedure. He said it was an outpatient deal with general anesthetic and takes about an hour. They don't take your eyeball out and hammer the socket, as I'd feared. It's more about cutting a muscle below the eyeball, under the lower lid. He said it's not particularly a huge deal and pretty common.

His final verdict was that my contact lenses are very dirty, that (with them) my eyesight is perfect, and that my eyes are so barely wandering that he would not allow me to do the procedure even if I wanted for it to be done. He said it's a condition that could be made worse by looking at things closely, or when I'm tired. 

We agreed that from here on out there are more important things for me to be worried about, but as I left I pondered the common denominator of my eyes crossing while on Bravo. It's simple: the Housewives make my eyes cross. I can't help it. It's a natural reaction. 

I will remain as I was made.

CAB REPORT: It started out quietly until Tuoi Nguyen (in good ole 1N60) noticed that I was pounding on my Blackberry Bold and FREAKED OUT. "You like that!? It fast!? How fast to the Internet?!? You check your stocks!?! It's a mini computer right!? MINI COMPUTER!" he yelped, almost jumping through the wee plastic window divider between us. "This one better than iPhone, RIGHT!?" He was obsessed. "How long it take to check your stocks? GO TO GOOGLE!!!!" I went to the browser and counted the seconds it took to get to cnbc.com (It took 10) and Tuoi FLIPPED OUT on me (actually on the Bold). "10 seconds!?! I need to get it! I get
it! This for me!" I love Tuoi and his enthusiasm, and my Blackberry Bold. I gave him a really good tip.

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