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Rants & RAVES

indiewire.com

Eyes are the windows to the soul?

Irealized two things on a recent night as I was desperately rubbing my eyes to remove my contacts. No. 1 - The warning on the contact lens solution label where it says, “Do not rub solution directly into eyes” means you shouldn’t rub the solution directly into your eyes as it will burn like the heat of a thousand suns and melt most of your retinas. No. 2 - I didn’t have my contacts in. I wore glasses. It’s a good thing I can type by feel, since

I’m no longer able to see the keys and will probably have to get a pair of those creepy taxidermy eyes just to fill out my sockets. One of the things I have enjoyed the most about aging would be the ever-changing landscape that evolves as my vision slowly, but surely disintegrates. I mean I knew my nose, ears and feet were gonna keep growing, but I never thought my eyes would turn on me at such a young age. I have some thoughts about adapting to my new reality. Perhaps they could print my credit cards with bigger numbers so I wouldn’t have to ask total strangers behind me in line to read the super-secret code on the back of my card each time I want to purchase necessities like ice cream. Or, I guess I could hire an 8-year-old to shop with me. They know how to use an iPhone and can read my texts to me. They can also shout out the names of the street signs and exit ramps when I’m driving. That gives me extra time to turn off the radio and slow down in front of every house when I’m looking for an address.

And then we have people like my sister. She never remembers her cheaters when we go out for a meal. I tire so of reading her the menu and trying to make vegetarian entrees like tofu sound enticing. Inevitably, she gets her order and says, “Your dinner looks better, can I just have that?” She plays the, “You must have read me the wrong entree description” card and swipes my plate either way. Here’s a thought, bring your own damn glasses so the Brussels sprout surprise isn’t quite so surprising.

I had arrived at the big box hardware store and removed my prescription sunglasses as I entered (‘cuz I think we’re all pretty clear that only serial killers and hung-over sorority girls are allowed to wear their sunglasses indoors) and had to rely on some poor young employee to point me in the right direction. Basically, I was using him as a seeing-eye-dog. He didn’t seem to mind and even called me “Ma’am” a few times just to pour salt in my already aging wounds.

He got me as far as the flooring department. That’s when things went a bit awry. I was on the hunt for the elusive tile grout. Alas, all the labels on the little round containers were in a font size meant for mice, so I held up two options and asked the guy next to me which he thought was better. This is when I realized he thought I was hitting on him. His young daughter stepped in and saved him from the heaps of embarrassment he seemed to be suffering. I wasn’t being coy, I just needed someone who could translate the miniature font into words. She gave me an extra pathetic side eye as she pulled her poor Dad in the opposite direction.

I guess it’s a good thing I’m a gal who likes a giant handbag. I’m able to carry a flashlight and/or one of those miner hats to read the menu as most restaurants are lit like caves during a coal mining expedition. I guess it wouldn’t be quite as bad if I didn’t spend the majority of my day hunting for my prescription glasses, sunglasses or cheaters. I mean I don’t like to take away the excitement of foraging for my phone 30 times a day, but it’s a bit more of an adventure if you’re doing it all by feel. Once I find them, I’m so busy switching from my cheaters to my prescription glasses to my sunglasses and back to my contacts that I can barely see friends or consider long-term employment.

I’m always intrigued by those folks who are learning new languages and have successful side hustles. How do they have that kinda time? Who is carrying their eyewear around for them all day? Clearly (pun intended) they have perfect vision and have thereby opened up hours in their day that aren’t available to mere mortals like me.

So, I guess if the eyes really are the windows to the soul, mine are hella dirty and in need of those guys who are super good with the squeegees! 

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