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Veeda recently talked me into trying contacts for the first time. I have been wearing prescription glasses for about 10 years (funny because it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long). I chose to wear glasses instead of contacts for a couple of reasons: 1) I saw as an outward expression of my inner nerdiness, and; 2) because I don’t like poking myself in the eye. In spite of what my brothers might tell you, I wasn’t terribly comitted to looking like a nerd but the thought of poking those little things into my eyes on a daily basis held the desire to see without glasses at bay. My eyes are very sensitive and begin to water with every ambient breeze and seeing the bloodshot eyes of family and friends and hearing their complaints about their contact lenses convinced me that contacts were not for me. Well, my wife has an influence over me which I can’t argue with and so I’ve been poking myself in the eye’s for better vision for the last week.

I used to go weeks or months without getting poked in the eye. I can’t even remember a time in the last year that I got poked in the eye. I’ve enjoyed the protection my glasses have offered me over the years, but at some point you have to leave your protective bubble and allow yourself to experience pain. Only by living with pain can one understand true happiness. I feel like wearing contacts has catapulted me into an adult world I was afraid to engage with. I just didn’t want to grow up. However, now I get to poke myself in the eyes at least twice a day FOR EACH EYE! Sometimes I get to poke myself in the eyes several times. It sometimes takes 3 or 4 tries to get the contacts in and then I can look forward to poking myself in the eye again at the end of the day to take them out. On top of that, I’m still used to wearing glasses and have come close to poking myself in the eyes when I’ve reached up to my face to adjust the glasses that I’m no longer wearing. Airborne projectiles hurled up by the breeze have also found a place in my occular cavities. Now that my eyes get poked so often I truly appreciate the times when my eyes aren’t being poked. I didn’t realize how much I took that for granted.

Posted by poweredbyapathy at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I did a quick search on the statement “I’ve never been punched in the head” and amongst the detritus I found this forum for Star Wars enthusiasts where they were having a discussion about being mocked and abused while as adults, they paraded in their homemade underroos. Below you will find some of my favorite posts:

My favorite line that I only kind of understand: she broke one of my pouches and put a tiny scratch in my Graflex, then she decided to hang on to my friends tabbards and undid his sash

Posted by poweredbyapathy at 10:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Veeda has, on occasion, spoken in her sleep. In our first month of marriage she did it at least a couple of times when I was awake to hear it. I can’t remember one of the times which part of me is convinced was the funniest time of all but I remember her sleeping in my lap and suddenly asking me, “what’s marscapone?” I wasn’t sure, but I gave my best answer with a disclaimer about my probable inaccuracy. She didn’t respond and I noticed shortly that she was breathing the breath of a deeper sleep than her speaking gave evidence to.

Last night as we were layed down to sleep she came out of left field with the statement, “I’ve never been punched in the head.” I had no idea what she was talking about. I asked her, “what are you talking about (because this seemed like the thing to ask at the time),” and she said nothing. So, I said, “I’m glad you’ve never been punched in the head, I hope you never get punched in the head.” Apparently, I made too big a deal out of the whole thing cause then she started patting me on the face and saying, “go to sleep dear,” like I was the crazy one.

Posted by poweredbyapathy at 10:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)