FALL 2004: One rainy day, on my way to Polish class, I stopped at the Underground to get a cup of coffee. As I stepped in the doors, I took off my maroon Eddie Bauer specs to wipe them clean of rain. As I wrapped the soft cloth of my t-shirt around the left lens, they snapped in half at the bridge. So. I walked home blind, found my old glasses, a pair of big oval wire frames I stopped wearing my junior year in high school but thankfully kept in the bottom of a box, missed the first 20 minutes of Polish, and bought a new pair of frames that my old lenses could be cut to fit that afternoon.
The new frames were dark brown, semi-thick rectangular plastic. They were a little too small for my face, but no one but Ariana could possibly have ever noticed.
Fast-forward to FALL 2005: One night I took off my glasses before sleeping, and put them under my bed. My assumption is that my blanket off of my bed, as it has a tendency to do, and when I pulled it back up at some point in the night, it pulled my glasses out of their hiding place. I awoke the next morning at some ungodly hour to meet my parents for breakfast, decided to hit the snooze on my alarm which is across the room, and as I scurried back to bed, heard the crack of what could only have been, you guessed it, my stupid glasses breaking.
My lovely auntie drove me all around town to find an optometrist able to see me that day. We ended up at Crandon and Crandon, her eye doctor, and she tried on frames with me until they took me away to do all those weird things they do when they test your eyes. This time around, it was agreed that I should get some damn cool, fancy EYEWEAR, as who knows when the next time I'll get a new pair will be.
(Please note: I had my eyes dilated approximately an hour before giving a presentation in my Intro to the English Language class. Not only could I not read my notes, I also felt nauseous and had creepy eyes. One eye recovered faster than the other and made me look even creepier.)
So, new snazzy glasses were on the way. However, except for those few occasions that called for sunglasses, I was stuck in these classy things:
from my childhood that make me feel fourteen and hideous. They contributed to the worst time I've ever had at a college party, but that's an even more petty story, and I'll save it for another time. Anyway, they hurt my nose, and made me grumpy every time I looked in the mirror.
And then. . .NOVEMBER 2005
When I originally started this post, this was the end of the story. I finally had my new, beautiful specs, and was awaiting public recognition for how sweet they were. They were publicly applauded, I was content, and I put them in their case every night before I went to bed. Yet there is now an addition to the story.
DECEMBER 30, 2005
I hunkered down with Ariana to watch Playing By Heart (Jon Stewart is, was, and always will be sexy), take my glasses off clean them, and they split above the right lens. My first thought was that I was having a nightmare, which would have been bad enough. Ariana had to attempt to calm my fears of them not getting replaced and having to wear my old glasses forever (which, this time, were in a different town than the initial break), not to mention leading me around Manhattan by the arm to keep me from running into things. She even read me road signs on the way home to keep me calm. I attempted to have them repaired, but after glue and acetone, they were a little more melty and no less crap.
Anyone that was wondering, this is why I wore my sunglasses to the New Year's Eve party. In case you were thinking I was just that cool.
Crandon and Crandon are my heroes, however, and ordered a new front part for my frames and fixed them within three days, no questions asked.
Since this latest development in the corrective lenses debauchal, I have taken to switching to my crap glasses before exercising, cleaning, extreme cooking, and past midnight. Just as long as no one will catch a glimpse of me wearing them. All for the love of my specs.
FIN
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