8/22/2016: Dustin & Whitney

Our posts have hit legal age, so let's get wild! Today we share a collage and a short humorous essay about the frustrations of life with contacts.

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Alternate Endings by D.H. Currier

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The Future of Contacts by whitney lamora currier

The modern set of contacts is the first item in my everyday life considered a recent achievement that I can already imagine as antiquated.

I often struggle with wondering how the next iPhone could be better, how we can like it more, how the camera can offer more, how much slimmer, brighter, clearer - but then they always deliver. The future of a contact wearer is right in front of my eyes (move along) today, though- because we already have it. It’s called Lasik and we’re all of us idiots who haven’t gotten it done already.

Sure- the image of a masked doctor scraping my corneas while I’m completely conscious elected on a voluntary basis stops me from bringing it up casually on my annual eye doctor trip. If I’m being completely honest I limit what I say at all throughout, fear of sharing my definite coffee breath with my pregnant opthamologist. Between muttering C’s and O’s, Z’s and 2’s and confirming that one-is-clearer-actually-can-I-see-two-again-no-one-is-clearer-ers, a quick, nearly painless solution to this year by year nonsense fails to leave my lips as an option.

I can imagine my friend’s kids and our conversations I’d have with them after they got their childhood Lasik done (because why wouldn’t we? Piercing ears, braces - add it to the line of weird body modifications we have all agreed are okay to do to kids when they’re super young). Aunt Whitney? You used to put little rubber glasses in your eyes? Every day? Didn’t that hurt?

Yes it hurts and you never totally see clearly and they dry out your eyes and your prescription is never perfectly correct even though you perform in that yearly exam like your life depends on it and it never changes. Yes sometimes they rip in your eyes while you’re just trying to get through your 9-5, making everything both blurry and more painful. Yes, we created an insane amount of waste by offering monthly, then bi-weekly, then fucking daily pairs of contacts- filling our oceans and dumps with individually wrapped promises of eye bliss for that day and that day only.

I’ll eventually crumble under the future of Lasik- contacts becoming what they should have been considered all along: an embarrassment to the eye. Until then, I’ll silently curse when dragging them out of the tiny prison baskets I put them in every night while they fold and crumple beneath my fingernails, hoping that I didn’t smudge them or if I did at least, God, let me realize it before I leave the house.