Open-Mouthed Relaxation

Today we are going to play a little game. I'm going to tell you what she said and you are going to guess where I was.

"Relax and open your mouth a little"

Was I:

A) at the dentist.

B) on the set of a really bad porn.

C) participating in a hot dog eating contest (on the set of a porn about a "hot dog eating contest"?).

D) getting an EEG.

Let me start by saying that if any of you picked C, please just get out. Stop reading my blog. You don't know me at all. Jaclyn does not eat fucking hot dogs (I probably should take more offense to anyone who thinks I was on the set of a porn, I guess, but I REALLY hate hot dogs).

An EEG, for those of you who don't know, is when they hook up electrodes to your head and measure your brain activity. Specifically, for the test I was getting, my doctor wanted to measure the speed of my visual and auditory responses. So yes, another post about my fucked up brain problems. You're welcome.

To start, the woman performing the test measured my head and wrote all over my scalp and forehead with a red pencil to mark where to put the electrodes. Maybe you guys haven't noticed this about me yet, but I'm sort of chatty. So I tried to make conversation. I asked her if my head was freakishly large as I'd always suspected whenever I try to buy a hat. "Not really". Oh. Ok. Then I told her how we always have trouble getting shirts over Caitlyn's big head and how Rodolfo always tells her to "blame your mother". I think I got maybe a forced chuckle out of that one.

Clearly she did not think I was funny and she did not feel like making conversation. I decided to keep the rest of my thoughts to myself, especially the ones where I considered apologizing for the layer of dandruff she seemed to need to scrape through with that fucking red pencil. Or the fact that I knew they would be putting goop on my head so I didn't bother to shower before the test. It seemed perfectly logical at the time, but when it actually came down to it, I found myself pretty paranoid that I was being secretly judged for my greasy hair.

After the humorless head-scraper had cleared my scalp of any remaining dandruff (and skin), she began the test. For the visual part, I had to cover one eye and stare at a tiny red square at the center of a TV screen for like 10 minutes on each side. Which sounds simple enough. The problem was that all around that red square was a black and white checkboard that was constantly moving and flashing and it made it really hard to focus.

Head-scraper noticed this. Apparently my brain waves indicated pretty clearly that I was not paying enough attention. She walked over to the screen on more than one occasion and tapped her pen in the middle of the screen near the square and reminded me to "focus on the red square. Look right here in the center". Not all disciplinarian-like. She didn't smack her pen once and walk away. No, it was worse than that. She stood there for 20 or 30 seconds at a time, tapping her pen and gently reminding me to focus. I imagine she uses this same technique when she has to do this test on a 5 year old.

After we finished the vision test (and it couldn't end soon enough, I felt like I was fighting off a fucking seizure) we were ready to move on to the auditory test. But she had preparations to make.

She dragged a recliner into the room, put some headphones on me and told me how important it was for me to relax. The test would go much quicker if I was relaxed and, in fact, if I could fall asleep during the test, I should try to.

I tried to relax, really I did. But do you want to know what ISN'T relaxing? Trying to hold in a fart in front of a stranger who has already seemingly decided she kind of hates you. Also, when your husband doesn't understand what "I'm busy" means and keeps fucking texting you every 2 minutes except you don't have your phone right in front of you because you are super busy relaxing so you have to assume it's either him just being annoying or the babysitter trying to get in touch with you because there is an ACTUAL emergency (it was him, for the record). Yeah. Relaxing!

Again, my brain waves gave me away. I was not relaxed enough. And apparently, the default position for "relaxed" is to be slack-jawed. The test lady kept insisting that I open my mouth a little to assist in my relaxation.

You know those commercials for like, the Bahamas and shit? The ones where the actors are trying to convey how relaxing and enjoyable their trip is? They aren't telling you this, obviously, because then they would interrupt the serene-sounding voice-over saying shit like "The Bahaaaaamaaaaaas", all sing-songy. No, they are conveying this message via body language. They are frolicking on beaches. They are lounging on the balcony of their gigantic suite sipping cocktails.

My point is that they are obviously lying. Ok. Lying is a strong word. They are acting, poorly. Because they are smiling on those beaches and balconies. And everyone know that TRULY relaxed people do not smile. Truly relaxed people have their eyes closed and their mouthes open. Maybe they have a little bit of drool on their chin. Drool is the mark of true relaxation. Take note, Bahamas commercials: DROOL WILL SELL MORE VACATIONS THAN YOUR BEAUTIFUL BEACHES AND FANCY HOTELS! Also, I hear the comatose are extremely serene, so it would save you a TON of money in advertising if you just went to your local hospital and got some footage of a dude in a coma and be all "he just got back from the Bahamas". Yeah. I'm kind of a genius.

So my test took a while. Serenity is not my forte.