Friday 12 April 2002
And just when I thought I was finally recovering from this shit...
First, a warning. This is probably Too Much Information.
On Wednesday, my eyes felt pretty crappy, kind of like someone had repeatedly punched me in both eyes. I wasn't too worried, because it felt much like it did whenever I get a sty, which happens occasionally. Lindsay suggested I had conjunctivitis. I said that under my breath, in my head, over and over. ConjunctiviTIS. CONjunctivitis. ConJUNCTivitis. I called up my Mom and we talked for a while.
"I think I have Conjunctivitis," I said casually.
"Ooh, be careful. Pink eye's very contagious." she said.
"Mom, I didn't say I had pink eye. I said Conjunctivitis."
"Sweetie, Conjunctivitis IS pink eye."
At which point I sort of freaked out. Ew, pink eye? Isn't that a disease for six year olds running around a playground, swapping snot? Who did I have to kiss to get this curse?
I woke up yesterday morning, and I couldn't open my eyes. They were glued shut with mucus. I stumbled into the bathroom and it took five minutes and a warm washcloth to finally get them unstuck.
I looked like something out of Night of the Living Dead. My eyelids were so swollen and my eyes were bloodshot. I looked like I had just been in a fight or had a really bad acid trip. Against my better judgement, I put my contacts in.
Drove to school, went to the nurse. The doctor sees me, and says to me with all seriousness, "You need to get those contacts out and get a pair of glasses. It's the worst thing to have in your eyes. I'm going to write you a note for class for the next two days."
And that, my friends, is how I ended up driving home to Lebanon yesterday to get myself a new pair of glasses.
I haven't worn glasses since I was about 12 or 13. Because I have disposable contacts, it seemed pretty unnecessary to have a pair of glasses, if I ever ripped my contacts, I just put a new pair in. My last pair of glasses had thin pink wire frames, and the lenses were a good half inch thick. I hated them, and was so glad to be rid of them.
So, I was not looking forward to this. To be peering out of those lenses, Steve Urkel-like, for the next 7 to 10 days did not sound appealing. But, I went to the eye doctor (who commanded me to throw away my current pair of contacts and all storage containers, since they were contaminated), and then to the optician, to look for a pair of stylin' frames that hopefully wouldn't make me look too awful.
The dude that helped us at the optician was a little afraid of me, I think. First, I told him right off I had pink eye (and watched him recoil from me in disgust), and then I began wandering around the store like an idiot, my nose two inches from everything I was trying to see. I really am half-blind. I can't see a damn thing.
Anyway, I managed to find a fabulous pair of cat's eye frames, which is what I wanted for a long, long time. Hip yet intellectual, with a touch of school-marm sternness. Mom and I went for coffee while my glasses were made (I was extremely surprised that even had my prescription in stock), and I came back and tried them and....they looked fabulous.
The technology must have advanced considerably since I was 13, because the lenses were not thick at all. I just looked at them and marveled at the thinness.
So now I looked more hip that I probably have a right to be. Plus I got a haircut. See?