Today I left the house, amazingly enough, to get new glasses. Normally I hold off until my current pair actually falls apart on my face. The last time I had to go out and buy new ones, it was because they collapsed and died in the middle of the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie:
So I literally--and I cannot express to you how literally I mean this. I'm not abusing an oft-abused word; I mean this literally--held the left side of my glasses together by pinching the frames shut for an hour and forty-five minutes solid. I actually asked all the friends I was sitting with if they had any string, for God's sake, because I've actually tied them together before, and I'm now thinking about always carrying a little box of dental floss in my purse for that purpose from now on.
Also, Baby Shelby had left bite marks in the lenses by that time.
(Those pictures were actually taken the very same weekend.)
SO ANYWAY I hunted down a pair of frames as close to the shape of my current frames (the ones I bought in 2007 after aforesaid movie theater incident) as I could, because it's really like trying to buy a new nose for your face: for a constant wearer of glasses, it's a matter of identity. And then I also got some prescription sunglasses, which I am terrified I will now break or lose, because we can't ever have nice things (normally I just get them off the spinny-rack at the drugstore). The sunglasses are in my possession now; the regular glasses will take ten days to come in. Which is good, because God knows I'll need the sunglasses to ward off the blindingly... overcast... March... wait.
I have pretty good vision, though--something like 20/75, I'm not sure. Since I'm nearsighted, I can read without my glasses; I just don't see any reason to. (I remember a friend of mine getting glasses when we were in third grade, and how mad she got when I plaintively declared that I wanted glasses too, because she thought I was trying to make her feel better. No, I really wanted glasses. I don't know, they just seemed like something I ought to have, having already been appointed Teacher's Pet Smart Girl by my peers and disdained appropriately. Like, if I was going to get ostracized for being booksy, I might as well have the really cool glasses to complete the picture. I don't know; I think I must have been a weird kid... as most kids are.) (I finally got them when I was in sixth grade.) So I have always really staunchly worn glasses, not contacts (well, and then I have my flail-twitch freakout phobia about eyes being touched), even though I probably need them a lot less than most people. And the optometrist told me that my eyes probably aren't going to get much worse at my age, and might even get better! Yay! I assume that is possible and not some wack-ass thing he just made up! I don't know, he seemed a little bit crazy, in a really mellow, soothing way. Like, I don't know if people just really don't ever get their eye exams at Lenscrafters, but he gave me this fifteen-minute lecture on the evolutionary development of nearsightedness, and was kind of intense in this really soft-spoken way the whole time in this tiny dim room, and I found myself smiling a lot at him, and feeling really relaxed, and... you know, it just gets creepier and creepier the more I go on, but it seemed all right at the time! My point is... I don't think he'd had anyone to talk to in a long, long time.
(I got through the puff test for glaucoma on the first try, instead of having to get puffed four or five times and flailing too wildly for them to get a reading! This was pleasing to me and my fear of shit being done to my eyes.)
So then I came home and went back to reading my Jack the Ripper book, which got me to thinking about a couple of short stories I could write--well, going into that would be putting the cart before the horse, but it could be interesting.
And now, I think I will go to sleep. Yes, before 9 pm. Because I can.