24 June 2004

Yesterday I had the pleasure of spending 45 minutes with a beautiful woman, gazing inquisitively into my eyes.

Sadly, twas not Sharleen Spiteri wanting to understand me as a person and what really makes me tick (although... she will be mine. Oh yes, she will be mine). It was an optician trying to prescribe me new glasses.

Still. Best looking optician I've ever met. Quite depressingly, I'd estimate that she's about my age too (I hate these people with careers that are achieving things).

Having not had my eyes tested at all for about 5 years, I was actually worrying that my eyes had got better (wouldn't be the first time they have) as I could see better without my glasses than with them.

Why should that be a cause for worry? Surely I should be happy to not need glasses any more? Well no, actually. Glasses are incredibly sexy. I am not at all sexy. Me + glasses = someone who could possibly pass as sexy in a darkened room, as long as you could only see my face therefore not how fat I am.

I also like the fact that glasses make me look clever. I am not at all clever. Therefore me + glasses = someone who could pass as clever as long as she's not left to talk for too long. When I was 15 I went through a phase of wearing full-time the glasses that I only actually needed to wear for reading and writing. Because I thought they made me look cute and clever (I should point at that at this age I also regularly wore patchwork dungarees and my hair in pigtails because I thought the overall look was "quirky").

It turns out that I need not of worried. The reason I couldn't see through my glasses wasn't because my eyes had gotten better, but because my left eye had gotten so much worse.

How could I of not noticed that I could hardly see anything out of my left eye? I guess it's because in life I generally go round with both my eyes open (I rarely have cause to wink at people. Though I do often close my left eye to check that my nose stud is still in the right hand side of my nose, I think leading people passing me in the street to think I'm winking at them, when I'm really not).

What perhaps worries me most is that I'm still perfectly legally safe to drive without my glasses on ("though you might be more comfortable wearing them"). How low is the standard for the driving sight test? But, then, I suppose I do drive with both eyes open.

I'm quite jealous of short-sighted people. "Myopia" is such a cool word. I, being so self-obsessed, love the fact that it begins with "My" for starters. I however have Hyperopia, which just sounds like the eye drops I have to apply twice daily should contain Ritalin rather than Rapitil. Not only can I not see things close to me because of Hyperopia, I generally can't see things wherever they are because I also have Astigmatism in both eyes. Another slightly misleading word as it sounds less like something that should affect the eyes, and more like I should have to wear bandages on my hands and feet over the Easter holidays.

So, yes. Yesterday turned out to be sexy new specs day (twas also sexy new hair day... until I got rained on on my way to The Comedy Cafe and my hair just went big). This was truly as relief as I can finally dispose of my glasses which I've had since my late teens which look like the result of an unfortunate and slightly messy collision between Harry Potter and Su Pollard. Though, of course, I don't think I could actually bring myself to throw them in a bin. If nothing else, they'll come in handy when I decide to launch a career as a clown catering to children's birthday parties. A friend and I once wrote some sketches about "Butwarts" after seeking inspiration from my optical attire. I wonder why those sketches were never staged...

No comments:

Post a Comment