Backstory info dump: I’ve worn glasses since I was a little girl. Maybe six or seven? I don’t remember when I got my first pair, although I do remember two things very clearly. 1) I could read words written on the chalkboard at school (I’m chalkboard-years-old) and finally figured out how my classmates knew things I didn’t. And 2) I felt very much like Mr. Magoo for the first few days. (I’m also I-know-who-Mr. Magoo-is years old.)
But I got used to them and, over the years, they just became part of my face. I’ve never considered contact lenses because I wasn’t a very responsible kid and I’m not really faring any better as an adult. They seem like a lot of work. And there are dusty days on the ATVs when, despite my face shield, my eyes are red and gritty from the dust and my tear ducts are packed with mud. I’m not sure that’s a contacts-friendly activity.
In January of 2008, I got my first pair of the glasses that magically tint when the sun hits them. I think because glasses had been part of my face for so long, I was super sensitive to the tinting and felt something akin to motion sickness as they changed for the first few days. Several years ago, when I turned bifocals-years-old, I stayed with the magic tint. (I forget the actual word for them. UV something something.) But I also bought a spare pair without the tint for head shots outdoors in natural lighting. (Which are still on my to do list.)
The tinting in the sun is something I haven’t given any thought to since the first pair, once I stopped feeling swimmy when they’d darken. Occasionally I’d see a picture taken outside and realize it looks like I’m wearing sunglasses, even though they didn’t look different to me.
Recently, I’ve been struggling with my glasses. I can never get them clean and parts of them seemed blurry or smudged. (I don’t care what the lady at Lenscrafter said, the new anti-glare coatings attract the oils from your skin—fingers, cheek, taking it off your freaking eyelashes—like crazy.) Yesterday I decided to put on the spare pair while giving my glasses a thorough cleaning.
Yeah, there’s no cleaning that. I know I’m well overdue for an eye exam/new lenses, but I didn’t realize how overdue. (And I’m sure cleaning the dust off with the hem of my shirt while four-wheeling doesn’t help.) The coatings are pretty much gone and I seem to be grinding them into a whole new prescription. You’d think since I can’t even tell my own kid from some other kid when I’m in the same room without them, I’d be better at taking care of them. (See again: why Shannon doesn’t just wear contacts.)
So now I’m wearing the backup pair, which seemed fine despite being so very clear my eyes couldn’t cope and I got a headache. Then I went outside this morning with Taz.
And the snow glare pierced my skull like a blast of lightning from Thor. Picture me staggering around a yard full of snow reflecting the brilliant sun at me like a mirror, with my eyes closedÂ and my hand over my eyes while pain throbbed between my eyebrows.
My pupils were all “eh, the glasses got this” and the glasses didn’t have that.
I can’t go outside. đŸ˜‚