I have never had good eyesight. I remember vividly having to squint at the board in school when I was little, and I could never read signs or even distinguish people from any distance. Finally, I had an eye exam in sixth grade. I will never forget putting those prescription glasses on and feeling absolutely elated that my world suddenly had clear-cut edges rather than the fuzzy blur I was used to.
Another thing I will never forget is feeling kind of dorky with my new glasses. (I wish I could find a picture of me circa 2000, but alas... you will have to be left in suspense.) After a couple years of said dorkiness, I decided to be brave and try contacts. And this is where my story gets very, very sad.
I went to the eye doctor in seventh grade, nervous about trying the contacts but pretty sure I could handle it. How hard could it be to stick a couple of lenses on your eyes?
Ha. Ha. Ha. Silly me.
Turns out, it is VERY hard to stick a couple of lenses on your eyes when a) you have freakishly shaky hands and b) you have freakishly skittish eyes that dart around at the slightest movement near them (hence my late-coming to the mascara party) and c) your doctor is a hateful little Asian man standing over you and YELLING (no lie) "Why can't you do this??? Just stick them in! It's not that hard!!!!" It was so bad, in fact, that my pitiful little hands shook even harder and my awkward, probably (at the time) pimple-y face was turning more red by the sentence. Add in the fact that if I feel like I'm "in trouble" I will cry, no exceptions... and it was a very heartbreaking situation. The poor nurse was even embarrassed, apologizing for Dr. Psychopath when he left the room. "I'm so sorry... he's usually not like this, blah blah blah." Oh, I must have been the lucky little girl he chose to unleash his wrath on! Needless to say, I stuck with my glasses and was not even remotely interested in contacts for the next several years.
Right before I went to college, I decided to give contacts one more shot. Surely five whole years would have cured my abnormal inability to perform a task that a fairly large percentage of the population is capable of... but no. While there was no Dr. Jerk at this appointment, I (again) spent 20+ minutes wrestling with the slippery little devils, and, despite the help of the nurse and two other patients (who clearly had no idea what treat they were in for that day) I simply could not do it. Shaky hands, watery eyes... bad combo. At that point, I decided that a) it was just not worth it to feel like a complete spaz every morning and b) even if the feeling were worth it, I rarely had a spare half hour to devote to putting my eyes in.
Maybe these? If I sell a kidney to pay for them?
Still feeling a little dubious...
(and those bangs are veering dangerously into Bieber-esque territory. Time for a trim!)
After a couple of days to adjust, I have decided I really like them. I know they aren't everyone's cup of tea, but I like them! Hopefully I'll be able to hang onto these (in one piece) for longer than a few months. Maybe someday, after experiencing things like childbirth and motherhood, I will be able to handle something silly like poking myself in the eyes. Until then, I am happy to be called four-eyes.
And I do apologize for the ridiculous length of my sob story, but perhaps you were feeling a void in your daily light reading. I aim to please.
Nice to see all of you again, finally. =)