1993: That was the year I got my first pair of glasses. I was walking around, essentially blind, with my face actually touching whatever book it was I was trying to read in the car. It wasn't until I was nine that my mom was noticing, 'Hey, that's weird' and took me to pick out my blue and purple swirled, round and yet square at the same time, obviously stylish as hell optical wear. They were awesome. I wish I still had them so I could sport them around the house (since public is clearly out of the effin question). My mom said that first day riding in the car I even looked out the windows the entire road home and turned to her in a fit of awe to say
**"I can see what all the signs say now!"
There was the first day of fourth grade when I got onto that gloriously shiny yellow bus and took a seat next to Kurt, this weird as hell kid with a head of hair like you wouldn't believe which, therefore, made him at least worthy of being socialable withbthe twenty minute ride to school, who had ALSO gotten glasses and we sat together on those green seats, greeting our fellow classmates like proud beacons for optical advertisements.
I traded those in for a pair of brown similars in the sixth grade and then, when seventh grade hit I met the CUTEST guy in my entire life in Exploratory Language and decided, whilst learning "La Cucaracha" (my rat bastard of a teacher also made us perform it in front of the class SOLO)I was mature enough for contacts.
I contracted an ulcer on my actual eyeball from those contacs three years later. I've gotten the Paul from the Wonder Years frames, another pair with lenses so thick they're actually constituted as coke bottle, purple ones, ones that no matter how many times you get them tightened they are too loose on even my hugely round head. I've fallen asleep in my glasses, stepped on them, lost them the second I take my contacts out so I'm walking blindly around my bathroom trying to find them right in front of my face while my sister, Satan, watches idly from the sidelines. I've walked in the halls wearing my glasses in high school, reading in between classes like a TRUE LOSER and don't regret it for a second.
My sight is so terrible these pieces of eyewear have even become a sort of joke amongst friends and family. Prescription like I'm Rick Moranis in any movie ever, they're the novelty people try on when they want to see what it's like to be drunk or incur a massive migraine quick.
I love my glasses. I've loved every single pair of them, functional or shade. Glasses make my life better. Glasses have allowed me to stop getting book ink on my nose and for that I'm eternally grateful. They've kind of defined who I am in a way for as long as I can remember.
You can only imagine my surprise when I went downstairs last night to get a delicious glass of soy milk. As I'm opening the fridge, my dad who is watching tv in the living room pivots in his seat at the noise and stares at me curiously from the next room. I give him the "Dude, what?" glance from the light of the fridge, pour my glass and put it away. As I'm headed back towards the hall to go upstairs and continue Twitter Stalking he calls out the three words I least expected to hear in my entire life:
"You wear glasses?"
Several seconds of shocked silence. He might as well have gotten up and screamed out while dialing 911 for this crazed, four eyed stranger to get the f out of his house.
I swear to God it took everything in my soul not to walk over there, set down my cup, stick out my hand and say in return:
"Hi, I'm not sure we've met. I'm your daughter. Glad to see you're finally in the freakin game."
As a side note, I don't think I thank Jesus enough for my mother. Nothing in particular. Just her mere existence and that she acknowledges mine. Or that perhaps she could at least pick me out of a line up if need be.
**However, how terrible is it that I went nine years without being able to look out the freakin car windows because I couldn't discern one golden arch from the sun? Geez, mom, look alive. I'll bet Helen Keller's mom was a little more on the ball, that's all I'm saying.
