Few of my glasses-related memories are good ones. My friend Gigi delights in her glasses and, as she told me this morning, can't understand why anyone *wouldn't* want to wear glasses if given the chance. My friend Jessie wore fake glasses in high school because she liked the way they looked.
Not me. I despised my glasses from the very first pair, a dreadful octagonal blue granny frame that my mother, for reasons I can't fathom, fell in love with. The eighties arrived and I had the enormous beetle-face frames everyone wore back then - but my prescription was so strong that they weighed about eleven pounds and constantly slid down my face. As soon as I saved enough waitressing money I bought contacts--but it turned out I have sensitive eyes. Contacts and I began a mutually antagonistic relationship that lasted for decades, until several days ago. My eyes were always red, irritated, teary, and because of my astigmatisms, not very well corrected. Clear vision was not one of my assets, but I worked around that by ignoring what the professor wrote on the board, guessing at highway signage, and wearing my contacts in inadvisable conditions like camping without fresh water and waterskiing and stumbling home from parties at 4am.
Insecurity didn't help matters. I now understand the very sexy allure of the right pair of glasses (and, lucky me, have amassed a stunning collection of reading glasses which I will wear for working), but as a young person I was convinced that any man, given the choice between kissing a bespectacled girl and one who was not, would never choose me.
And then I'm going to wear my very sexiest reading glasses on a date. :)
PS Thanks and love to Nurse Julie. How many hospital waiting rooms is that that we've almost been thrown out of now? Though I'm sure the nice lady across the room is still wondering what was so funny about "We Bought A Zoo."