May 27- New Eyeballs

That's right, on May 27 I will have my substandard nearsighted eyeballs removed and replaced with sparkling new peepers. Well, actally they'll just repair my current peepers by slicing open my cornea and zappity zapping my eyeballs with freakin "laser" beams. But Jen, you say, you can see perfectly fine with your glasses on, why go through this icky process? I get asked this a fair bit, so I made a list of all the things that would much easier/more enjoyable without glasses (or contacts).

• Daily life. My glasses spontaneously dirty themselves about five seconds after I clean them, so I usually view the world through translucent oily blotches.
• Anything requiring a mirror. I often find myself bending over the sink to be "near" enough for my reflection to be "sighted". I wear glasses when I brush my teeth, but any sort of eyebrow-pluckage and make-up application (as if) requires leaning in, and subsequent shirt wetting.
• Shaving of legs. Nobody wears their glasses in the shower. As such, I'm forced to awkwardly fold myself in order to see my gorilla limbs in detail.
• Swimming. I don't wear any sort of vision aid to swim. When I get my new peepers I hope to be able to see everything from the sign that says "No running on the deck" the friends and family who swim farther than two feet away from me.
• Going to the zoo. Especially in the winter. Moving constantly from the freezing cold to a simulated tropical environment makes a glasses-wearer all foggy.
• Scuba diving. Not that I do this super often. But when I snorkeled in Mexico I had to wear my contacts. And salt water + contacts = paranoia
• Roller-coasters. Am I the only one who worries the glasses are going to fly off? Takes away from the enjoyment of the ride, says I.
• Being in the rain. Drippity drops. 'Nuff said.
• Watching movies. Especially at a drive-in. The translucent greasy blotches are now accompanied by a bug-splattered windshield. GAH!
• Cooking steamy stuff.
• Eating steamy stuff (like soup).
• Changing clothes. I once broke my glasses in half taking off a sweater, then got them taped with the aid of the first-aid nurse-man and some surgical tape.
• Sunglass shopping. Two reasons. One, I take off my glasses, put on sunglasses, and then try to determine if the beige blur in the mirror looks hot in her shades. Two, perscription sunglasses are a triffle more expensive than the does-zilch-but-block-sunlight variety.
• Watching tv. My glasses skew themselves at odd angles when I attempt to stretch out and rest my head on the couch.

I'm sure there's more. I can't begin to predict the wonders that await me after May 27.