Dr. T.J. Eckleburg

I sat in the trying-on room of the oculist today, surrounded by fake glasses and rotating through four frames as the minutes marched by. Maybe mentally starting a blog post helps me make decisions. Maybe deciding where to go to grad school and where to work and whether or not to cut my hair short has prepared me for deciding which glasses to buy. Whatever the process, I started at the eye doctor and ended at my family's dinosaur desktop (back up your files, ye who believe your laptop will never die), reflecting on the following:

About me #1: I've had eye exams before, but this was the first time I went intent on leaving with glasses. I went to a different doctor, wanting to squeeze in a visit before I leave (who knew eye doctors are in such high demand in Vermont? Apparently even the healthiest people in the Union need glasses).

About me #2: I HATE any sort of sharp object near my body. (I almost cried the first time I had a manicure, and I haven't been back.)

This spry 69-year-old doctor only freaked me out once: when he tested for glaucoma by shooting the head of a tiny pin at my eyeball to see how fast the pin would bounce back. Luckily, I survived.

About me #3: I like sparkly things and bright colors and Jude Law.

As a glasses innocent, I made the mistake of going alone, without someone to tell me, "Don't buy hot-pink-and-yellow-spotted glasses, Rebecca. No one will take you seriously." Fortunately Dad told me that back when I bought my phone case, so I demurely declined the rhinestone-heavy options and narrowed the walls of frames down to four pairs.

Options A and B were cheap and similar and common, the rectangular sort that you tend to see on non-hipster, New England, female twenty-somethings. Option C reminded me of Jude Law's in the film The Holiday. As beneficial as it might be to think of Jude Law every time I pass a mirror, I decided that could be a faulty rubric for choosing accessories. However, now that I look at a photo of Jude's glasses, I realize they're much closer to Option D, the one I actually chose. But as I learned from the show LOST (if you've never seen it and don't have 121 episodes worth of time to devote to television in the near future, don't start), "the universe has a way of correcting itself." Must be true.

In other news, Baby Dell is going to run track at the University of Southern Maine. Our family has come a long way since my last post. I am so proud.