The Eight Days of Ugliness

I got my first pair of glasses at fourteen. Not surprisingly, my parents decided to go the cheap route, and with complete disregard for all teenage angst and their need to fit in, got me what, to this day, I think is the UGLIEST pair of glasses ever. And it didn't help that my brother started singing "Imagine," in homage of the late John Lenon, which he said I ressembled when wearing the glasses. GREAT.

I begged and begged to get contacts, and the parents finally gave in. Since then, I have NEVER been seen in public wearing glasses. And not even the black framed, artsy sorta glasses coming into fashion gave me reason enough to switch.

So fifteen years later I find myself in a situation where I absolutely have to wear glasses. Yes, I've decided to take the plunge and am getting lasik surgery in three days. Very exciting. However, the eight days preceding this long awaited, glorious, day have not done anything for my ego. In fact, I call them the eight days of ugliness. And here how it goes:

(Thurs) On the first day of ugliness, I jumped on a plane in Dallas and landed in Seattle with glasses on. My co-worker did a double-take. He said nothing. But I saw a little gasp. He was horrified by my appearance.

(Fri) On the second day of ugliness, I showed up at work with glasses on. During our team meeting, I kept taking my glasses off to take pictures--it was my co-worker's going away lunch. I admitted vanity and had to announce that it was my first time in 15 years wearing glasses, and that yes, I knew that the frames are crooked and uneven (I've sat on them many times).

(Sat) On the third day of ugliness, I realized another annoyance about glasses: you can't wear sunglasses! Unless you get the flip sunglasses that fit on top of your lenses. That would make me double ugly and triple dorky.

(Sun) On the fourth day of ugliness I got little marks on the bridge of my nose, testament to the pain and suffering that it is to have to support thick, heavy lenses on my nose in truly acrobatic fashion (remember, they are crooked as well).

(Mon) On the fifth day of ugliness, I decided to go for a run on Myrtle Edwards Park by my house. With every step, I felt the glasses bouncing up and down, hitting the bridge of my nose, causing annoyance and reminding me once again that I was wearing horrible glasses.

...And this brings us back to today, (Tue) the sixth day of ugliness, when while typing away at work, my co-worker came up to talk to me. All of a sudden, I heard something drop on my desk. And then I realized: MY LENS HAD POPPED OUT OF MY FRAMES!!!! Ghettoness had reached its limit! My co-worker turned around and went: "Dude, was that your lens?." And indeed it was. My co-worker quickly suggested I tape it to the frames. Was he kidding me??!!! Next thing I know, there were three people all trying to get the obstinate little lens back into the frames. A girl was finally able to loosely screw the little pin back in, and all three warned me that I had to be careful with it. And to go tape my glasses. A fourth person suggested I get an eye patch. What the (*&U$#@???

I get my consultation on Thurs and surgery will follow on Fri. I cannot wait to rid myself of these damn glasses!!! And I guess in the meantime I'll have to deal with whatever the last two days of ugliness will bring.

Pray for me. With a wedding coming up and a honeymooon just around the corner, I simply cannot afford to go blind.