Sunday, September 18, 2011

Contacts, Te Odio.

I'm not even going to talk about that game. At least any more than I just did.

Now, some of you may have gone through several years of your life easily, blissfully popping contacts in and out of your eyes. For some reason, I seem to be inherently incapable of putting them in. After some analysis, as I stood for an hour in my bathroom blinking my right contact out over and over, I have concluded there are 4 main reasons I am struggling so. Bryant Milesi, Catherine (my sister), and my optometrist.

First of all, I blame Bryant Milesi. Yes, Bryant, you are the source of my eye-related neurosis. Rewind to October 1992. 4 year old me was in kindergarten at Del Dayo elementary school. I clearly remember the day when Bryant chased me around the classroom flipping his eyelid inside out. It was gross, disturbing, and scarred me for life.

Catherine, second I blame you. Somehow you were able to pick up the most fabulous genes our family has to offer. You can shake out your blonde, straight hair right out of the shower, and it will look better than mine does after spending an hour using a straightener. While I am the only individual in my family with near-sighted vision, I am also the only one with deep set eyes and long thick lashes. Which may be nice when I forget mascara, but they are currently the bane of my existence. Every time I try and go in with a contact there is always eyelid or eyelash in the way.

Optometrist, I don't even know your name, but I blame you too. I would have been perfectly happy with just glasses, but you had to go and tell me that you have had several like 3 year-old patients getting contacts in with no problem. So, now, I can't just give up because I know there are a bunch of toddlers running around doing something I can't. The more stressed out I get thinking about it, the worse I do. So, gracias.

Finally, I blame me. Yeah, it's mostly just my fault.

If anyone has any encouraging contact-related words, advice, anecdotes, or experiences, feel free to call me, skype me, text me, facebook chat me, or track me down at my house. I'll still be here, in my bathroom, using way too many commas, and trying to get these stupid contacts in.