If a cow ever got the chance...

sooo... I picked up my ironic new hipster glasses today... my insurance gives me a new pair of frames every two years, and my old ones were literally being held together with scotch tape so I figured it was time. well, the frame salespeople talked me into getting these tiny, very dark frames that look like the unholy union of those cats'-eye glasses from the 1950s and a stopsign (not for the color, for the octagon-ness). When you look at them from one angle they are a deep blue, from another angle they are a weird sort of tan. They're very hip. I think the sales chick was misled by my eyebrow ring and the pretty pink streaks in my hair into thinking that I am some sort of trendy club-going young thing, when really the glasses that would best express my personality would have been those 1970s mirrored aviator shades...

I really liked these glasses when I was in the store, but now as my eyes attempt to adjust I can barely see; everything is kind of large and wavery and I have to concentrate to make things come into focus. It's like being drunk, only without the automatic self-esteem boost and loss of anxiety. It's like being drunk alone. Plus no one has said anything, which makes me think that either the glasses look really bad or that no one actually sees me...

Gah. I don't know how much more of my own self-pity I can take. I really am going to have to get drunk now, just to shut myself up... Things are, objectively, fine; it just bothers me way too much when my vision is whacked out. If I can stand to wear these glasses for another 24 hours or so, my brain will adjust and life will be good again.

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