3-2-1 Contacts

Today Precocious Daughter got contact lenses.

And of course, I don't post pictures of PDaughter on this blog, but if you happen to be one of my IRL friends you can see the picture I posted of her sans spectacles on Facebook. If not, take my word for it: Today my baby girl went from being an adorable geek to a stunning young lady with huge blue eyes and nothing standing between them and the world.

This stock-photo of a blue eye is freaking hideous
compared to my child's eyes, she said with utter impartiality.

She is now officially growing up way too fast. And I am growing old at a correspondingly excessively rapid rate.

Shit. I mean...shit.

I'm now going to tell you all the story of how I started carrying a purse.

This is totally related to everything that has preceded it, I promise.

When I was a junior in high school, I got contact lenses. In my case, contacts didn't turn me into a teenage beauty queen, per every cheesy summer movie/music video ever. They simply turned me from a four-eyed chunky awkward nobody to a two-eyed chunky awkward nobody.

Goddammit Tina Fey, I love/hate you
so much.

One day, in drama class, I was approached by Erik L. I had the biggest crush on him; he was super-cute and could play the Beatles' "Blackbird" on the guitar. He had pretty much no idea I existed, for which I can hardly blame him, because at that point in my life, pretty much nobody had any idea I existed.

It will all be in the book, I promise.

Anyway, Erik L. approached me and said, "So...you wear contacts now, don't you?"

And my heart exploded. Erik L. had spoken to me. More than that, he had noticed - and commented upon - a change in my appearance. If you don't understand how close I came to physical death at that moment, then you obviously have never been a 15-year-old girl.

Zooey Deschanel, what I said to Tina Fey up there?
Goes triple for you.

I'm pretty sure I managed to stammer "yes," although honestly I might simply have nodded and drooled, which would have seemed strange to no one back then. What was this about? Where was it leading? Was Erik L. going to compliment me? Ask me out? Declare his undying love?

All of these thoughts went through my head in, like, 1.5 seconds. It was definitely a quantity over quality situation in my brain.

And what did Erik L. say after asking about my contacts?

He said, "Do you have any eye drops I can borrow?"

Goddamn subconjunctival hemorrhage.

My world took an astonishingly short amount of time to come crashing down around me. I could feel my face freeze, instinctively denying the world the spiteful joy of seeing my crushing disappointment manifest itself in my expression. Erik L. wanted eye drops, and I had none to give him.

Because I didn't carry a purse.

I don't remember if it was that night, or that weekend. But the first chance I got, I went out and bought a goddamn purse. And into it I put my eye drops, my saline solution, my contact lens case, and anything else I thought Erik L. might ever conceivably ask for.

Because he had asked me for eye drops, and I failed him.

At the time I believed failure was an event. I have since learned
that it is a continuum.

But the next time Erik L. approached me and asked for something, I was able to fulfill his needs and satisfy his desires.

Just kidding. I'm pretty sure he never spoke to me again.

But he got me to start carrying a purse, and I thank him for that. Today, my purse is more or less the crucible of my existence.

And I haven't worn contact lenses in years. I got lazy and cheap.

That may happen to PDaughter eventually, especially when she has to start paying for her own contacts. But for now, I'm psyched to understand her joy at seeing the world without having to push glasses up her nose every 10 minutes.

And I'm certainly not going to harsh that buzz by telling her the story of Erik L.