So remember a year ago when I asked you all to pick which pair of new glasses I bought? Yeah, I finally bought them. And I'm proud to say that I am currently navigating my computer screen without having to increase the zoom to like 200 percent.
I had every intention of getting glasses last year if for no other reason but to stop my boyfriend from yelling at me during Netflix nights. This is how is starts:
He'll scroll through the list of recommendations whizzing past on the TV screen -- "What do you wanna watch?"
After leaning in close and squinting for a few minutes, I sit back defeated and silent -- "You KNOW I can't see what any of that says! Slow down!"
"Get glasses!" "Arrghrgrgrhrghrr!"
There was no good excuses for my procrastinating. Since it wasn't in my living room, the eye glass place was too far. Without health insurance, eye wear is not cheap. All the affordable glasses are the wackness. Plus, I'd made it this far.
"Have you? Have you made it?" my boyfriend would tease in all seriousness, probably whilst flaunting his near perfect vision by reading a street sign or Ikea instructions. Jerk.
So I bit the $190 dollar bullet and got a sleek pair of Max Mara brown glasses with my crazy thick super lenses inside. When I put those bad boys on for the first time I whispered, "Whoa!" in my best Joey Russo voice. Ya'll the real world, the non-squinty world, is so damn shiny!
And you know what else I noticed? People look pretty damn imperfect. My vision is so bad that everything has a sort of Instagram-like glaze over it. Call it nature's Photoshop. I don't notice blemishes, shirt stains, scars, persistent peach fuzz, prominent freckles, or dirty finger nails. Alls I used to see is one humanoid blob after the other. But with my magical spectacles on folks were under a microscope. It's like I had on beer goggles and just woke up from a decade-long bender.
Of course the first thing I thought was, "Wait what do IIIIII really look like" and ducked into the nearest bathroom to make sure I didn't have a giant defect splashed across my face -- a mustache, maybe -- that everyone has been too polite to mention.
Turns out I am a bit blotchier than previously thought, my eczema is as high contrast as ever and the age spots on my nose aren't nearly as small as I convinced myself they were. Basically I was seeing myself for the first time (like on "Little House" when Adam gets his sight back for some reason and sees Mary and is all, "You're beautiful!").
Overall, I was pleasantly surprised.