When I turned 8, I got my first pair of glasses. They were HUGE and I immediately felt self conscious in them. It was the beginning of my dorkness. As puberty hit, so did a bigger pair of glasses. My eyeballs only wanted to see things close up. So, as my nearsighted-ness worsened, so did the lenses. They grew thicker and thicker through my teen years. I was sure that I was hideous. I was sure that no one would ever find me attractive. I was sure that about 75% of my problems were caused by the fact that I had to wear glasses. (I’m now aware that my tendency to be over-dramatic, and towards depression, and that I lived in a small town where I fit in like a flamingo at a drag race, didn’t help. But mostly, it was the glasses.) So 10 years into the vision enhancement experience, my parents decided I could finally get contact lenses! Woo Hoo! Maybe now, boys would make passes at me, because as everybody knows, boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses. My nose might not be getting thinner and my boobs may never get bigger, but at least I didn’t have to wear those ugly-ass glasses! I remember breaking my contacts in. When I was 18, my summer job consisted of mowing lawns for old ladies. As it was a small town, the job options were few. The eye doctor said I could only wear the lenses for 2 hours at a time, and I planned those times when I would be out pushing a mower in high August heat. The sweat and dust totally got into my eyes, but the usual red imprint of sweat on my nose wasn’t there! Everything...