Pigeon.

I had an appointment with the optometrist lately who told me it was time for bifocals. I can't say I was surprised, as I have been using off-the-rack readers to read with when I was wearing my contact lenses for over a year now.  However, I was surprised because up to now I've felt like I could read fine when not wearing my lenses.  Apparently that's no longer the case. So I now have progressive, lineless bifocals.

I can't say I'm crazy about them.

I don't know if it's being obliged to wear glasses again after more than ten years in contact lenses, or the bifocals themselves that bother me. For one thing, judging from the pain in my skull, it appears the temples are wearing grooves in the bone at the back of my ears. I remember suffering an adjustment period to new glasses in the past, but this seems extreme. For another thing, though there is no line on my bifocals, there is a "sweet spot" for each range of vision, and it's not always right in front of your eyes. For reading, it's easy, because I'm looking down.  For distance vision it's relatively easy, because I look straight ahead. But it's that in-between range that has me bobbing my head up and down like one of those drinking birds. When I look at you I'm likely to make several small adjustments to my head, looking for that magic place where your face is actually in focus. It gives me something of the aspect of a nervous bird.  So much so that Grayson told me he was going to start introducing me as "My Mom... the pigeon."

One of my coworkers informed me he'd never seen me being so agreeable before, as I now constantly appear to be nodding my head. Ha freakin' ha ha. Very funny.

I assure myself that I'll get used to it. I'll learn to adjust automatically, and won't be bothered by the vaguely out-of-focus peripheral areas. I just have to stick with it.  But the jury remains decidedly out.

John loves the new glasses.  He's always said he likes me in glasses, but he also said that he would choose the blackest, ugliest frames for me if he had the choice, to repell any potential rivals.  Not that he has any, the dear man. So now I"m wondering, does he like me in glasses because he thinks I look good, or because I look bad? Or perhaps because he has some weird librarian fetish that has yet to reveal itself?  Unknown.

For myself, I'm not crazy about the look.  The frames seem to square my face off too much.  The technician who fitted me for them had a lot to say about my choice.  I tried on pair after pair and she'd just say "No.  Too big for your face." She seemed to know what she was talking about, so I listened to her. I also felt sort of rushed in my choice, and ended up taking the ones she said were "geek chic," but she thought I could "pull it off."  So I'm pulling. I'm not sure if it's coming off or not.

I suppose Geek Chic is apropos for someone who sits at a computer all day writing about art. But I'm not sure if I want to look the part all the time. I wish I still had contacts I could use for a little variety, but I can't afford both, so glasses it is.