Micheal,
Yet another year and another letter that I'm writing to you on the anniversary of a birthday that we'll never get to celebrate. Some of the sting has dissolved but the wound has not yet healed. I still miss you like it was yesterday. I still dream of you and I having conversations as if nothing has changed and until you tell me that it's time for you to go. Then the dream will vanish and I'm left with the harsh reality that you are truly gone. I think it's harder this year because my safe haven is gone. I always took comfort in knowing that with the cafe, a little bit of your legacy remained and I could go there to celebrate your life and your accomplishments. This year we do not have that. Everyone that I thought of as family in that restaurant have scattered like leaves in the wind. I understand that it had to close and everyone had to move on but it doesn't mean that it hurt any less. It felt like I lost that last little bit of you. I watched them slowly tear down all of the memories that I had made with not only you, but with everyone else that I met through Micheal's Cafe. What other people thought was just a restaurant was like a family home to me. To see that be torn to the ground was hell. I sometimes sit and wonder if things would have been different if you were still around. If we would still be as close as we were when you died or would we have moved on after a while and I wouldn't sit here every year writing letters like this to your ghost. I guess I'll never really know. Maybe the next time you visit my dreams I will remember to ask. But until then, please know that none of us have forgotten you and we all still love you and we will hold your memory in our hearts until the day that we join you. I'm sure you've found Eli and you guys are celebrating like fools wherever you both are. Until then, know that I miss you old friend. Happy Birthday.
Jenn
Friday, November 18, 2011
I See Said the Blind Lady
Last night I had my first eye appointment since I was in sixth grade. I've been getting headaches if I watch TV or spend time on the computer or, I don't know, open my eyes. So since the Naproxen and Nurofen plus have stopped working, I figured it was time. I've been putting it off because to me, getting glasses is basically a revocation of my youth card and a ticket on the train headed straight over the hill. The fact that I will be 30 in a few months doesn't really help.
First of all, I think the people that work there secretly take pleasure in shooting the little puff of air into other people's eyes. The lady had to do it three times to my one eye because I kept moving. Yes, it's because you are shooting air into my eye. I have a hard time putting on mascara because I get freaked out with the wand being near my eye so there is no way I was going to be able to sit still when I knew what was coming. After the third time, she just kind of rolled her eyes and sent me "down the hall." My judgement awaited me right behind that door.
After a few minutes, the doctor came in and started his routine. Read the letters. Is it better with this one or with that one? Would you say you get a lot of eye discharge? I did the song and dance and waited for his sentence.
Glasses is was. Ugh. I'm only wearing them when I read, watch TV or drive but I know it's only a matter of time until those things are shackled to my face permanently and they're throwing around words like "bi-focal" and "transitional lenses." I know they'll just get thicker and more expensive every time I go back. It's only a matter of time before I look like a hipster wannabe.
But not only did this OLD eye doctor give my youth a death sentence, he insulted me while he was at it. After my hefty, heartbroken sigh when I received the news, he says to me (in what I think may have been an attempt to comfort me), "This is just something that happens when you get old." Yeah, he fucking called me old. He included me in his club. I think it's time for a face lift and some cheek filler. Oh and Lasik.
The only thing that kept me from purchasing a shiny new pair of orthopedic shoes and support hose was the fact that Evel also had to get glasses. He's all about it, though. He lives in an age where kids now wear glasses before they start kindergarten. At least he doesn't have to worry as much about the four-eyes jokes and people stealing his glasses for a good spirited game or monkey in the middle (oh yes, I've seen this happen on the school playground). And he actually chose a pair of glasses that looked like something out of Revenge of the Nerds (and looked totally ADORABLE in them). They cost more than the wire rimmed frames that men actually want to wear now. I guess fashion has come full circle.
I think I'll fit in just fine as a nerdy old lady.
First of all, I think the people that work there secretly take pleasure in shooting the little puff of air into other people's eyes. The lady had to do it three times to my one eye because I kept moving. Yes, it's because you are shooting air into my eye. I have a hard time putting on mascara because I get freaked out with the wand being near my eye so there is no way I was going to be able to sit still when I knew what was coming. After the third time, she just kind of rolled her eyes and sent me "down the hall." My judgement awaited me right behind that door.
After a few minutes, the doctor came in and started his routine. Read the letters. Is it better with this one or with that one? Would you say you get a lot of eye discharge? I did the song and dance and waited for his sentence.
Glasses is was. Ugh. I'm only wearing them when I read, watch TV or drive but I know it's only a matter of time until those things are shackled to my face permanently and they're throwing around words like "bi-focal" and "transitional lenses." I know they'll just get thicker and more expensive every time I go back. It's only a matter of time before I look like a hipster wannabe.
But not only did this OLD eye doctor give my youth a death sentence, he insulted me while he was at it. After my hefty, heartbroken sigh when I received the news, he says to me (in what I think may have been an attempt to comfort me), "This is just something that happens when you get old." Yeah, he fucking called me old. He included me in his club. I think it's time for a face lift and some cheek filler. Oh and Lasik.
The only thing that kept me from purchasing a shiny new pair of orthopedic shoes and support hose was the fact that Evel also had to get glasses. He's all about it, though. He lives in an age where kids now wear glasses before they start kindergarten. At least he doesn't have to worry as much about the four-eyes jokes and people stealing his glasses for a good spirited game or monkey in the middle (oh yes, I've seen this happen on the school playground). And he actually chose a pair of glasses that looked like something out of Revenge of the Nerds (and looked totally ADORABLE in them). They cost more than the wire rimmed frames that men actually want to wear now. I guess fashion has come full circle.
I think I'll fit in just fine as a nerdy old lady.
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