New Glasses

I’m getting new glasses.

I had my peepers examined and the ophthalmologist who examined me said that my eyesight is deteriorating slowly.

My prescription from last year to this year hasn’t changed much.

But there’s one NOTABLE change.

I’m getting progressives.


Yes, indeed.

After 45+ years of life, my eyes finally need a little help reading things near AND far.

Hence, I will be getting glasses which I am supposed to wear on a regular basis.


The thing you need to know about me is that I CONSTANTLY am buying sunglasses because I lose them ALL THE TIME.

Glasses too.

I’ll wear them for a week, put them somewhere, forget about them, then forget to wear them for the next 350 days of the year until I get my next exam and glasses.

It’s just how I roll.

I’m really worried about remembering to wear my glasses and KEEP TRACK OF THEM.

But I’m also TOTALLY EXCITED to be able to see things again.

Lately, I can’t even read the menus on the wall above the cashier in a casual restaurant.

I have to squint and even then, I can barely read the menu.

Overall, I’m resigned to my bifocals.

My sister got them at 35 so my eyes are in better shape than hers.

But I’m somewhat sad that this is happening, and combined with all the gray hairs popping up on my head, one thing is certain.

I’m aging.

I remind myself to not complain about this too much, however.

Growing old is a luxury denied to many.

Silent Pleas

I finally broke down and visited the eye doctor yesterday.

I’ve known for some time that I need glasses but I kept putting it off and putting it off.

Because I sorta HATE the idea of having to wear glasses.

I’m near sighted, you see.

So I can see my computer screen just fine but street signs?

Not so much.

Everything is ever so blurry for me.

The thing is, I have had glasses before.

I just always lose them somehow.


I may need to get gorkies to keep the glasses around my neck where I won’t lose them.

I’m such an old fuddy duddy right now.

So there I am, sitting in the chair in the doctor’s office.

The doctor has put that big contraption in front of my face and that’s when it happened.

He took a good long stare at my cleavage.

Perhaps he thought I wouldn’t see with that huge piece of equipment in front of me, but I DID.

And I got a little grossed out by it.

And I could see him sneak peeks periodically.

So much so that when he stood up to put drops in my eyes, I LITERALLY BEGGED THE UNIVERSE TO NOT LET HIM TOUCH ME.

And he didn’t.

So there you have it.

Sometimes, the universe listens to my silent pleas.

Cougar needs some glasses


He walked into the French café I was sitting in.

I was brainstorming blog posts while sipping an iced coffee and enjoying an almond cookie.

Marzipan, yum!

He looked to be about 25 years old, and was probably a graduate student from the nearby university.

“Mr. Right”

That’s what his t-shirt said.

I got the BRILLIANT idea to tease/flirt with him.

He sat down at the table across from mine.

Facing me.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I said when I caught his eye.

“Excuse me?” he asked obviously confused.

“It’s a joke,” I said. “Your shirt. . . Mr. Right. . . ”

He gave me a quizzical look, straightened up in his chair, and stretched his shirt out for me to see.


Not “Mr. Right.”

Cougar needs some glasses.