Optics Timeline
My luck with glasses pretty much sums up my luck. I don't do it on purpose; I do, however, avoid new glasses on purpose. Because I know their lives will be brutal, and short. Poor dears. I think that, when people do remember me, it's usually because of "that guy with the glasses." Whether they be one of the reincarnations of ze Goggles (cape optional,) glasses held together by progressively more tape until they are literally solely composed out of said tape and a pair of lenses, or those same lenses superglued awkwardly into yet another pair of random frames, it is fairly rare for me to have normal, working glasses.
That said, it looks like I'm going to be actually getting some. That's right; Paying actual, real money in exchange for glasses. Strange, but apparently neccessary...
And so, in a homage to the fallen, I present a timeline of the deceased optical helpers, dating as far back as I can remember. Well, a timeline without actual dates. It's in chronological order, that's all that matters!
> Two pairs of glasses purchased; Spare set almost immediately lost. It's hard enough to keep track of ONE pair. God.
> Midnight snack gone horribly wrong, I believe. See, apparently, my dog likes to sleep in the middle of the stairs. And me, not exactly being the most attentive of people when entirely awake, entirely failed to notice this in time to prevent the ensuing tumble. Annnnnndddd, no more wings. Well, minus one wing.
> And the badly done MacGuyver events start. I have to work like this. But the glasses won't stay on my face with only one wing! What about... What about one wing, and one STRAW, taped on as an impromptu wing? It kind of sorta works. Not really, but close enough. But, alas, the other wing missed its brother and quickly decided that life was simply not worth living without him.
> So, with BOTH wings gone, it seemed a lost cause. Two straw-wings? It barely worked with one. Still, I tried it. No luck. Not enough support. So, for a short while, I tried simply using mass amounts of tape to hold the glasses directly to my face. Unfortunately, that only worked for a little while... Scotch tape could not long adhere to my greasy skin. So, it looked like I would have to kick it up a notch, to duct tape. Eep. Or some other sort of adhesive, like glue. Eeeep.
> However, thanks to Misha's mom and her old, gaudy sunglass frames, and a bit of ingenious wiring (Ok, Misha did it. Shut up,)... The Goggles are born. The surviving frame's bridge wired to the other bridge.
> These were meant to be temporary, but lasted quite a while -- They worked damn well. Eventually, I bring my partially broken glasses back to my optometrist and have them replaced via warranty. New glasses! And contacts, too. See how those work out. They worked out decently, for a short while...
> Turns out contacts are even harder to keep track of than spare glasses. So, I'm trying to take the damned things out one night, and they just won't do it. Bastards cling to my bloody eyes like... uh... something... very clingy. Klingons! ... ... ... Mih. Anyhow, I finally pop one out, and for all it's adhesivity (It is too a word.) to my eye, it had no love for my finger, and promptly flies off. Into the sink. Cursing, I swear to this day I entirely forgot about the OTHER EYE... ... Can eyes swallow? Because I think it swallowed. Oh well, I still had the actual glasses, right? ... ...
> Mornings just aren't my friend. So, apparently I must have jostled my nightstand or something, for my glasses were not were I left them. They were actually on the floor. So my alarm goes off. I awake, and swat at it until it stops beeping. I flop out of bed with a yawn. Crunch. Then I swear as a wing breaks off in my foot. Damned...
> Only one solution... I think. There may have been a bit more unsuccessful MacGuyverying done, I forget. But shortly after the tragedy I said screw it, snapped off the other wing, and ressurected the Goggles, Mk. II.
> These lasted a long time, and gave me a reason to wear my cape. I mean, really; It fit so well with the Goggles. In all honesty, I regret ever ditching them. It's like I lost a little piece of my soul. Alas, eventually I caved and -- Because my family fronted the money -- grudgingly went and purchased new frames.
> These lasted over a year! I was much impressed. All things consider. Eventually, they gave up on life. Nothing specific did them in. I just went to put them on my face and they EXPLODED. No word of a lie. They just entirely fell apart. I blame the year of abuse. One time Shannon actually slapped me hard enough for the glasses to fly across the room, hit the wall, and return to her feet before hitting the ground. Obviously, I should have gone for the adamantium frames.
> They became progressively more desperate, and my genius solution was to layer them in tape. Which only kind of worked. Luckily, I had a saviour; Stacy Crowell, a regular at the Irv. Through several stages of decay, she kept them relatively together. First glue. Then MORE glue. Than glue and tape. And then more tape. As I said, eventually they truely BECAME tape. Finally, when Stacy brought in a spare set of lenses and we took off all of the tape, there were at least seven seperate pieces of metal that were once frame.
> Anyways, the new frames worked decent. We apply glue and pop the lenses in, and wuah laah! New glasses. Kind of. Close enough.
> But Lenny is an evil bastard. I refused his offer of Cookie, so he MURDERED the poor bastards. He tried to drunkenly solder them back together, but I think he only managed to burn himself. Alas, poor bastards. I knew them not well at all. Anyhow, he gave me his spare set. They worked slightly better than nothing, anyways. I could see -- Just not well.
> Enter Banana. I don't know what happened, I usually hold my liquor better than that. But apparently the sugary death decided that I was going to be a relative lightweight that night. I remember very little, except that I should apologise for throwing up Nathan's own liquor on him, and that I was attacked by a very large tree. Damned trees. I blame public schooling. Eh, somewhere in the scuffle I tumbled over, and I guess when I got up the glasses were no longer with me.
Just the other day, Sarah and I searched the site of the mugging for clues. And perhaps the glasses themselves. We found... Uhm... Lenses. So either the tree had a taste for metal, or some poor sod like me found them and said "Hey, these might fit!" ... Douchebags.
> And now, it looks like it's time to get new ones. I've lost one of my lenses. So, I have one actual lense, scratched to hell, and two lenses that aren't even technically my prescription. Close enough? Nah. I'm typing this with my face about a centimeter from the screen, squinting like hell. Besides, it might be interesting to see how long they last, how they perish, and how they will be MacGuyvered back into shape.
That said, it looks like I'm going to be actually getting some. That's right; Paying actual, real money in exchange for glasses. Strange, but apparently neccessary...
And so, in a homage to the fallen, I present a timeline of the deceased optical helpers, dating as far back as I can remember. Well, a timeline without actual dates. It's in chronological order, that's all that matters!
> Two pairs of glasses purchased; Spare set almost immediately lost. It's hard enough to keep track of ONE pair. God.
> Midnight snack gone horribly wrong, I believe. See, apparently, my dog likes to sleep in the middle of the stairs. And me, not exactly being the most attentive of people when entirely awake, entirely failed to notice this in time to prevent the ensuing tumble. Annnnnndddd, no more wings. Well, minus one wing.
> And the badly done MacGuyver events start. I have to work like this. But the glasses won't stay on my face with only one wing! What about... What about one wing, and one STRAW, taped on as an impromptu wing? It kind of sorta works. Not really, but close enough. But, alas, the other wing missed its brother and quickly decided that life was simply not worth living without him.
> So, with BOTH wings gone, it seemed a lost cause. Two straw-wings? It barely worked with one. Still, I tried it. No luck. Not enough support. So, for a short while, I tried simply using mass amounts of tape to hold the glasses directly to my face. Unfortunately, that only worked for a little while... Scotch tape could not long adhere to my greasy skin. So, it looked like I would have to kick it up a notch, to duct tape. Eep. Or some other sort of adhesive, like glue. Eeeep.
> However, thanks to Misha's mom and her old, gaudy sunglass frames, and a bit of ingenious wiring (Ok, Misha did it. Shut up,)... The Goggles are born. The surviving frame's bridge wired to the other bridge.
> These were meant to be temporary, but lasted quite a while -- They worked damn well. Eventually, I bring my partially broken glasses back to my optometrist and have them replaced via warranty. New glasses! And contacts, too. See how those work out. They worked out decently, for a short while...
> Turns out contacts are even harder to keep track of than spare glasses. So, I'm trying to take the damned things out one night, and they just won't do it. Bastards cling to my bloody eyes like... uh... something... very clingy. Klingons! ... ... ... Mih. Anyhow, I finally pop one out, and for all it's adhesivity (It is too a word.) to my eye, it had no love for my finger, and promptly flies off. Into the sink. Cursing, I swear to this day I entirely forgot about the OTHER EYE... ... Can eyes swallow? Because I think it swallowed. Oh well, I still had the actual glasses, right? ... ...
> Mornings just aren't my friend. So, apparently I must have jostled my nightstand or something, for my glasses were not were I left them. They were actually on the floor. So my alarm goes off. I awake, and swat at it until it stops beeping. I flop out of bed with a yawn. Crunch. Then I swear as a wing breaks off in my foot. Damned...
> Only one solution... I think. There may have been a bit more unsuccessful MacGuyverying done, I forget. But shortly after the tragedy I said screw it, snapped off the other wing, and ressurected the Goggles, Mk. II.
> These lasted a long time, and gave me a reason to wear my cape. I mean, really; It fit so well with the Goggles. In all honesty, I regret ever ditching them. It's like I lost a little piece of my soul. Alas, eventually I caved and -- Because my family fronted the money -- grudgingly went and purchased new frames.
> These lasted over a year! I was much impressed. All things consider. Eventually, they gave up on life. Nothing specific did them in. I just went to put them on my face and they EXPLODED. No word of a lie. They just entirely fell apart. I blame the year of abuse. One time Shannon actually slapped me hard enough for the glasses to fly across the room, hit the wall, and return to her feet before hitting the ground. Obviously, I should have gone for the adamantium frames.
> They became progressively more desperate, and my genius solution was to layer them in tape. Which only kind of worked. Luckily, I had a saviour; Stacy Crowell, a regular at the Irv. Through several stages of decay, she kept them relatively together. First glue. Then MORE glue. Than glue and tape. And then more tape. As I said, eventually they truely BECAME tape. Finally, when Stacy brought in a spare set of lenses and we took off all of the tape, there were at least seven seperate pieces of metal that were once frame.
> Anyways, the new frames worked decent. We apply glue and pop the lenses in, and wuah laah! New glasses. Kind of. Close enough.
> But Lenny is an evil bastard. I refused his offer of Cookie, so he MURDERED the poor bastards. He tried to drunkenly solder them back together, but I think he only managed to burn himself. Alas, poor bastards. I knew them not well at all. Anyhow, he gave me his spare set. They worked slightly better than nothing, anyways. I could see -- Just not well.
> Enter Banana. I don't know what happened, I usually hold my liquor better than that. But apparently the sugary death decided that I was going to be a relative lightweight that night. I remember very little, except that I should apologise for throwing up Nathan's own liquor on him, and that I was attacked by a very large tree. Damned trees. I blame public schooling. Eh, somewhere in the scuffle I tumbled over, and I guess when I got up the glasses were no longer with me.
Just the other day, Sarah and I searched the site of the mugging for clues. And perhaps the glasses themselves. We found... Uhm... Lenses. So either the tree had a taste for metal, or some poor sod like me found them and said "Hey, these might fit!" ... Douchebags.
> And now, it looks like it's time to get new ones. I've lost one of my lenses. So, I have one actual lense, scratched to hell, and two lenses that aren't even technically my prescription. Close enough? Nah. I'm typing this with my face about a centimeter from the screen, squinting like hell. Besides, it might be interesting to see how long they last, how they perish, and how they will be MacGuyvered back into shape.