Age 6: I fell in love with coffee.
I'd had little tastes before then, always on vacation. A sip here, a sip there. Finally, while spending a week on my aunt's house boat, I was allowed my own small cup of coffee. It was tan, filled with too much cream and too much sugar, and it was hot and beautiful and delicious. I still remember sitting on the couch, feeling the wet touch of morning fog on my forehead and the edge of the boat under the ball of my foot. I felt so grown up and content, and it's as if the world slowed to a crawl while I drank. I wasn't allowed seconds.
I'm 34 now. The world still slows down when I drink coffee, always with too much cream and too much sugar.
6th grade: I got my first glasses.
I played softball and had been in a hitting slump for a year. They finally took me to the optometrist and learned that I wasn't dropping my shoulder-- I was going blind. I picked out two pairs of glasses. At first, I was excited, because I like change. Then I realized that glasses made me feel less pretty, gave me headaches, and narrowed my view of the world.
I grew to hate my glasses.
When I was 15, I got my first contacts and never looked back. Since then, I've really only worn glasses at home, at night, when sick. I've been wearing them steadily for the last two weeks, leading up to Thursday's Lasik.
I'm so excited I can barely function. To think-- I'll be able to watch a midnight movie! I'll see the alarm clock without squinting! I'll be able to wear heavy eye makeup!
And all they have to do is cut open my eyeballs for a little while.
If all goes well, that picture will be the last one you see of me in glasses.
Coffee forever. Glasses no more!