So, I needed to raise five hundred dollars for Suzuki camp in August. Although babysitting is lots of fun, it wasn't bringing in enough money fast enough. Several fellow violin students had gone downtown to play their violins and made some good money. I will confess it took me six months to get up the courage to try it (For three months the snowy weather was a good excuse, however). Finally, after talking to several people about it, I decided to try playing for just one, tiny hour.
Mom dropped me off at the corner, and I walked up the street to where my friends had told me was the best place. Phew, there was a bench open, so I set my case on it and got out my violin. Better start with something super easy, yet cheerful, I thought. So the clear strains of Minuet 2 floated out into the air. My teacher had told me to smile, so I tried but ended up with some sort of weird lip-stretching. I licked them, and tried again, this time achieving a small grin. The piece ended, and I quickly started Musette. I kept trying to smile, and finally after my fifth piece I could do it without appearing to be an escapee from an insane asylum. I was starting to relax. Several people had smiled back at me. Well, even if I don't make any money, at least I've made people smile today.
Then, wonder of wonders, a man walking up the street dropped three quarters into my case. Bless you! I cried silently. My playing took on new zest as I saw those three quarters. Then a rather tough-looking man came by and dropped a few dollar bills in. "Keep music in your life," he told me, and walked on. Soon people were getting the idea, and dollar bills started filling up my case. I played piece after piece, repeating my favorite ones over, and smiling as wide as I could.
Eventually someone came up to me, and told me I better do something before my money started blowing away. I looked down at my case, and to my surprise, I couldn't see the bottom! Rummaging through the compartments, I found a few cases of old rosin, and I threw those in to weigh the money down. Before enough time had passed to seem an hour, I saw Mom driving down the road. I finished my piece, and packed up. Counting my money in the car, I had made forty-three dollars!
As of today, I am about two hundred dollars closer to my goal. Now all I have to worry about is practicing! God is so good!
"Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name." Psalm 103:1
June 18, 2010
May 16, 2010
Sweet Sixteen
April 30th was the big day; I turned sixteen!! The celebration was spread out over the next few days, since Mom had to work. It made it all the more special, because each day I had something fun to look forward to.
Finally we were able to walk through the turnstiles. As everyone went in front of me, the lady would ask them what their birthday was. She came to me, "Today!" I said excitedly. "Oh my goodness, yes! I was looking right at it, and I didn't see. Happy birthday, my dear."
John and Britt had raincoats on, so they were brave (or foolhardy, depending on who you are) and ventured out in the rain. So we waited, and waited, and waited some more. I reflected that we could very well be here for the rest of our lives. Fortunately Daddy had had the foresight to provide us with nuts, so we wouldn't starve. Finally it stopped raining, and we waded out into a stream of brightly colored ponchoes. The park employees had informed us that no rides would open until the storm was at least 15 miles away, so we went across the swinging bridge and into Grandfather's Mansion. 
We couldn't find the lease, so we headed over to Fire in the Hole again, to go help get rid of those pesky Baldknobbers. We emerged, shaken from our near run-in with a train, to be greeted with more rain. The Saloon being nearby, we stepped in on the porch for a bit. Daddy got hungry (big surprise), and we scittered across to the Lumber Camp and purchased a funnel cake. It was devoured in seconds, and we waited about ten minutes more. Finally, out came the sun and dried up all the rain, so the eensy weensy spider went up the spout again. But instead of climbing up the spout we were finally able to enjoy our lovely day at the park. 
By this time, most of the people had left, so we were able to walk right on to every ride. On Thunderation we met a Mr. Matt, who assured us quite gravely that his name was really Ttam. Suzy discovered a hearse in the Fireman's Cemetery and was rather tickled. Daddy taught us all how to jump and click our heels together. Suzy and I raced against John, Britt, and Chrissy on the teacups; we didn't win, because I was laughing so hard I couldn't spin the wheel (which was probably a good thing, because I felt slightly seasick at the end). And I found this crazy lady in a pavilion. Altogether, it was a pretty awesome birthday. 
On the actual day, Friday, Daddy took us to Silver Dollar City. It took awhile, but after several false starts, and running over to Mom at work to get our passes, then McDonald's to get some lunch, we were finally there! It was a good thing the park was open late that day, or I would have been seriously upset. :-) As was to be expected, Daddy got a phone call right as we walked into the park. During the discourse that ensued, us kids had fun taking some crazy pictures. Occasionally a fiery phrase reached our ears, but it was no matter. Once you started Daddy on government, it was hard to get him stopped. So we patiently waited.
Finally we were able to walk through the turnstiles. As everyone went in front of me, the lady would ask them what their birthday was. She came to me, "Today!" I said excitedly. "Oh my goodness, yes! I was looking right at it, and I didn't see. Happy birthday, my dear."The others wanted to ride Wildfire, so I volunteered to sit with Suzers. Then we went and did Fire In the Hole. On our way to the City we had noticed some dark clouds, so when we came out of Fire in the Hole and raced over to Powderkeg we were not surprised to hear that lightening had been spotted, and the ride was closed. No problemo, we figured, let's just go on Thunderation. We arrived just in time to see an employee hooking a cable across the entrance. After suitable inquiries we discovered that all rides were being shut down until further notice. So we walked down the hill to the glass shop, where us girls oohed and aahed while Daddy listened to his radio. By the time we were bored of looking at all the untouchable glass things it had started sprinkling slightly. I asked Daddy if we could go to the pottery shop, since we could watch the potter work, and he agreed. It was raining a little harder as we walked down, and soon after we walked in the front door it came down in sheets!
John and Britt had raincoats on, so they were brave (or foolhardy, depending on who you are) and ventured out in the rain. So we waited, and waited, and waited some more. I reflected that we could very well be here for the rest of our lives. Fortunately Daddy had had the foresight to provide us with nuts, so we wouldn't starve. Finally it stopped raining, and we waded out into a stream of brightly colored ponchoes. The park employees had informed us that no rides would open until the storm was at least 15 miles away, so we went across the swinging bridge and into Grandfather's Mansion. 
We couldn't find the lease, so we headed over to Fire in the Hole again, to go help get rid of those pesky Baldknobbers. We emerged, shaken from our near run-in with a train, to be greeted with more rain. The Saloon being nearby, we stepped in on the porch for a bit. Daddy got hungry (big surprise), and we scittered across to the Lumber Camp and purchased a funnel cake. It was devoured in seconds, and we waited about ten minutes more. Finally, out came the sun and dried up all the rain, so the eensy weensy spider went up the spout again. But instead of climbing up the spout we were finally able to enjoy our lovely day at the park. 
By this time, most of the people had left, so we were able to walk right on to every ride. On Thunderation we met a Mr. Matt, who assured us quite gravely that his name was really Ttam. Suzy discovered a hearse in the Fireman's Cemetery and was rather tickled. Daddy taught us all how to jump and click our heels together. Suzy and I raced against John, Britt, and Chrissy on the teacups; we didn't win, because I was laughing so hard I couldn't spin the wheel (which was probably a good thing, because I felt slightly seasick at the end). And I found this crazy lady in a pavilion. Altogether, it was a pretty awesome birthday. 
March 18, 2010
First Spring Photoshoot
Today was the first photoshoot of spring!! It was sunny and breezy with a high of 64 degrees; a perfect day to run around and take pictures. We were all suffering from an extreme case of cabin fever. And, let's be honest, a person can only take so much MarioKart before they start to go a little crazy.
In honor of the occasion I unearthed Daddy's big Canon EOS; I had used it before I got my little Powershot. It's an awesome camera, with lots of cool functions, an amazing telephoto lens being one of them. The only thing about it is you have to guard it with your life, since "You break it, you pay for it," is Dad's motto.
There isn't as much background-variety around as there will be when the trees get their leaves, but we still had a lot of fun. Although sometimes the others and I had conflicting ideas: John was always wanting to stare at the ground, or shoot his gun at the camera. Britt didn't really want to smile, she just made silly faces and slouched. Chrissy was little Miss Supermodel, and tried to pull off all sorts of poses. Suzy was perfect! Naw, I'm sure she was just as difficult, I just can't remember. (That's how she works, by the way).
Usually I have trouble getting models, but after numerous bribe offers and pleading on my knees I got three willing ones and one semi-willing. (You can guess who that is) I got them all to dress up in their PSU shirts with jeans and whatever props they wanted. John took a machine gun that yelled "Fire!" when you pressed a button; of course Suzers took one too, and Britt and Chrissy just brought themselves.
There isn't as much background-variety around as there will be when the trees get their leaves, but we still had a lot of fun. Although sometimes the others and I had conflicting ideas: John was always wanting to stare at the ground, or shoot his gun at the camera. Britt didn't really want to smile, she just made silly faces and slouched. Chrissy was little Miss Supermodel, and tried to pull off all sorts of poses. Suzy was perfect! Naw, I'm sure she was just as difficult, I just can't remember. (That's how she works, by the way).
And then, of course, when you have Britt and John in the same fifty-foot vicinity, things can get a little crazy. What with the sparring matches, and the hurling sharp objects in the air, and the setting the dog on the chickens, and the picking up worms and shoving them in Chrissy's face, and the inexplicable urge to yell at the top of their lungs; the list goes on. Like time.
But our family has lots of fun, and even though being cooped up with a deadly ninja, two drama queens, one Shepherd-with-Beagle-sound-effects, one ginormous Shepherd, and a squirmy worm can get wearing sometimes, I wouldn't trade it all for anything. Not even a million bucks (although I would be tempted). :-)
March 8, 2010
A Five-Minute Introduction to Our Generation’s World
Here's an interesting video...
A Five-Minute Introduction to Our Generation’s World
And here's my Daddy's response to it.
"Yes, this is the information explosion generation. The key to all of this is not knowing all the information in the world, but knowing the RIGHT information. That's where wisdom comes into play."
A Five-Minute Introduction to Our Generation’s World
And here's my Daddy's response to it.
"Yes, this is the information explosion generation. The key to all of this is not knowing all the information in the world, but knowing the RIGHT information. That's where wisdom comes into play."
February 20, 2010
Sweetheart Dinner
Last Friday evening, the choice for diners looking for a romantic getaway was the exclusive restaurant Little Italy. A perfect mix of old and new, Little Italy charmed its visitors. Candles glowed on tables, strings of lights hung from the ceiling, and potted plants gave a touch of green to the plaster walls. Big-band music was playing on a stereo, and after a few volume adjustments made a lovely background.
Note: all photographs were taken after the couples had left, and are of the servers, NOT the patrons!
The service was extremely polite, and while somewhat inexperienced, still added to the atmosphere. The servers, drink-refillers, host and hostess, bus boy, and clean-up girl all looked extremely correct in black slacks with a solid top. This writer particularly like the bus boy's Winnie the Pooh tie. Appetizers and salad were served promptly, as were drinks, but the entrees did take a little while in emerging from the kitchen. It was well worth the wait, however, as the servers attested to.
The menu consisted of choice gourmet Italian food. Bruschetta, sausage cups and cheese pinwheels were served as appetizers. A delicious Caesar salad was next, with the diner's choice of spaghetti and meatballs or chicken alfredo on fettucine following. Miniature cherry cheesecakes, or a scoop of cherry pie-filling wrapped in a won ton and fried (known as a Cherry Yum Yum) concluded the evening. Coffee, raspberry lemonade, and water flowed freely throughout, served by waiters who did not spill.
Note: all photographs were taken after the couples had left, and are of the servers, NOT the patrons!
The service was extremely polite, and while somewhat inexperienced, still added to the atmosphere. The servers, drink-refillers, host and hostess, bus boy, and clean-up girl all looked extremely correct in black slacks with a solid top. This writer particularly like the bus boy's Winnie the Pooh tie. Appetizers and salad were served promptly, as were drinks, but the entrees did take a little while in emerging from the kitchen. It was well worth the wait, however, as the servers attested to.
The menu consisted of choice gourmet Italian food. Bruschetta, sausage cups and cheese pinwheels were served as appetizers. A delicious Caesar salad was next, with the diner's choice of spaghetti and meatballs or chicken alfredo on fettucine following. Miniature cherry cheesecakes, or a scoop of cherry pie-filling wrapped in a won ton and fried (known as a Cherry Yum Yum) concluded the evening. Coffee, raspberry lemonade, and water flowed freely throughout, served by waiters who did not spill.
The atmosphere of Little Italy was relaxed and romantic. So much so that there were even a few dancers on the floor. Tables were wrapped in white shelf-paper. Conversation hearts, pink M&Ms, and red crayons made creative centerpieces, while a single candle on each table provided mood lighting.
The hosts took patrons' coats as they walked through the door, then guided them to a table. Servers appeared with appetizers, then took drink, salad, and entree orders. The bus boy served entrees, drink-refillers glided from table to table, and the clean-up girl stacked dishes then disappeared into the kitchen. A photographer circulated among the tables, snapping photos of distinguished patrons.
Little Italy charmed its visitors. One diner observed, "This is the best nightclub we have ever been to." Superb food, attentive service, and a charming atmosphere all combined to make a wonderful evening. It is hoped that Little Italy will appear again next Valentine's Day.
A special thank you is due to Eric and Sarah for their amazing leadership through this whole project, and unfailing patience. Also to the dishwashers Collin and Will!
Coffee and Other Bloopers:
Have you ever had a waitress who forgot to ask how you liked your coffee and had to come back? Who did it twice? Who remembered in the middle of her question that she was talking to the person who didn't need food, and quickly turned her head just in time to say the last word to the correct person? Who almost spilled her tray multiple times? Who asked you if you wanted dessert while you were in the middle of eating your entree? Who referred to the desserts as "Fattening" and "More Fattening"? Who accidentally sprayed whipped cream all over her slacks while she was garnishing a dessert?
Well, guess who that was!! ;-)
January 17, 2010
A Day in the Life of Snickers
One day I was with all of my brothers and sisters, happily playing away, when this strange lady walked into my home. She carried a cardboard box with a towel in it, and I sniffed it. It smelled like nothing I had ever smelled before. After exchanging greetings with my family and our masters, she picked me up and put me in the strange box. I was too busy sniffing the inside of the box to know that I was being carried away from my home. By the time I had found all of the smells in the box, I realized I was in a strange moving thing. It scared me, so I lifted up my nose and howled. I howled for a long time before the moving thing stopped. Then the strange lady picked up my box, and carried me into a strange place. Four other small people were in the strange place, and they picked me up and cuddled me. I liked that. I licked their faces, and the strange lady's face too. The strange lady buckled a red collar on me. It is very pretty, and I look very nice. Then the small people put me in a wire house. There was a pink rope in it, and a small bone. I was very happy. Then, the Beast came!
The Beast was a large dog, like my mother, only bigger. At first he did not know who I was, and so he growled at me. I was scared, so I howled. The strange lady got very mad at him, and I was quiet, knowing that I was protected. The Beast was very penitent, and sniffed me very meekly. I snapped at him, because I did not want him to growl at me again. He licked me, and then we were friends.
Since then I have learned that the strange lady's name is Mom. Four of the small people are called Brittany, Chrissy, John and Suzy. A few days after I came to this strange place, a medium person came. Her name is Betsey. She is very nice, too. I am also hearing talk about another person, whose name is Daddy. How many people are in this family? Every day as soon as I wake up, one of the small people takes me outside. Then I come back in, and chomp on my breakfast. I get to go outside lots every day, and sometimes I am allowed to go see the strange birds that are fat and make funny noises. I am glad that I am not a bird. 
One of my favorite games used to be that I would pick up my water bowl by the side, and drag it all over the floor. It made a big mess, and was very fun. Then the medium person gave me a shiny bowl that can't tip. It is not so fun, in fact I do not like it.
I have learned that the Beast is called Rizzo. He and I are great friends. He lets me climb on top of him, and jump on his side, and run with him. His nose is an excellent chew toy. He likes to steal my toys out of my mouth, but it is only because I am tired of them. Everywhere we go, Rizzo and I wrestle together.
I dearly love to chew, but the people do not like it as well as I do. There is a delicious piano leg that is my favorite, but every time I chew it, my people get very mad at me. So I think I will stop. I also like to practice my howl. It is coming along very nicely. My people do not like it very much, so I try to howl quietly.
I have learned that the Beast is called Rizzo. He and I are great friends. He lets me climb on top of him, and jump on his side, and run with him. His nose is an excellent chew toy. He likes to steal my toys out of my mouth, but it is only because I am tired of them. Everywhere we go, Rizzo and I wrestle together.
I dearly love to chew, but the people do not like it as well as I do. There is a delicious piano leg that is my favorite, but every time I chew it, my people get very mad at me. So I think I will stop. I also like to practice my howl. It is coming along very nicely. My people do not like it very much, so I try to howl quietly.
This is my life so far, and I love it. There are big hills in the back of my house, with lot of trees and promising smells. My people say that when I get bigger, I can go there, so I am growing just as fast as I can. Oh my goodness, Rizzo is here! I must go now. Bye!
January 5, 2010
Snow!
Mom and I had just finished a chick flick late at night, and we decided to take just one last look at Facebook. (Famous last words, right?) One of her friend's status was about "it's snowing, and I wouldn't have known had I not logged on to good ol' FB". So we were like hmmm, let's take a look outside. Sure enough, the deck was covered and lacy snowflakes were still falling. Racing back to the computer we typed in "Ditto! That just happened to us!!".
So the next morning, sleds were unearthed, patched up, and filled with air. Coats were buttoned, scarves wound around necks, and boots pulled onto feet. At the last minute, I couldn't find any gloves that would fit me. The only ones that were left were a very small glove and a big pink glove. And the Great Glove Fight began. Each person explained in depth why they of all people could not give up their gloves; then they all questioned why couldn't someone else give up their gloves; at the same time bemoaning the fact that today of all days I couldn't find any and was I sure I had looked hard enough; you get the picture. Eventually we arrived at a solution: Suzy gave John one of her mittens in exhange for the small glove I had found; John gave me one of his gloves; I gave Britt the big pink glove in exchange for one of her gloves, and we were all happy.
The next two days were spent racing down the tracks, giving Bob the snowman a makeover, and screaming at the top of our lungs. The only thing that slightly marred our enjoyment was Rizzo. He never could figure out that we were having fun; he kept trying to catch us and stop us when we were sledding. Silly boy, but what else can you expect of a dog who dips his nose in the snow, then licks it to get a drink? He did look magnificent against the white snow, though.
A funny incident happened when I was sledding down the hill. Britt pushed me off before John could get out of the way, so I shot down the hill and bumped into him. Naturally he fell down, and by some weird reflex clutched the handle. I continued on my merry way screaming, with my arms flailing, and John dragging behind. He held on all the way to the bottom. Later Britt said it looked like I was dragging him by his head.
The three younger ones walking down the "shortcut".
A pileup!
Weird huh? The snow kept blowing up in my face when I slid down the hill. 
Suzers!
Bob the snowman
January 2, 2010
Suzers
Today's featured family member is.......Suzy! Affectionately known as Suzers, SuzyQ, Suzybelle, and Suze. A little blonde-headed pixie, she bounces around creating sunshine for us all. Her laugh is the most infectious thing ever, and she is extremely ticklish. She and John are buds, and oftentimes she will condescend to let me hug her. For Christmas she gave me a story that she had written herself, entitled "Betsey and her puppies" complete with illustrations. She loves the first grade, and is super smart, getting all A's in everything. Her fashion sense is rather interesting; she never wears matching socks, and the colors of her clothes must never match (except for church). 
For the first two years of her life, she and I shared a room together. It was an awesome deal for me, since I got most of the room to arrange as I pleased, and only had to put up with her napping schedule. I was a very callous big sister, always sleeping through her cries; Mom had to come soothe her. As Suzy got older, she would occasionally sleep in my bed with me, which was very pleasant. (One time though, I woke up to her throwing up everywhere; that was not so pleasant.) 
Suzy has recently "discovered" reading, and likes to read aloud to herself. One time, I was reading with a bowl of pretzels in my lap, (there's nothing better than yummy food and a good book) and Suzy would get up, (still reading) walk slowly over to my chair, grope in my lap for a handful, then go back to her own spot. Eventually, the bowl was emptied, and I set it up on the table by my chair. So Suzy came over, and groped around for the pretzels. After about thirty seconds she finally looked up from her book and discovered that there were no more pretzels to be had!
Daddy calls her his "medicine", and when he is grumpy, a hug from her will do wonders! Altogether, she is a little "package" of joy and fun.
January 1, 2010
Adventure with Contacts
"So, young lady, how are you with sticking stuff into your eyes?" asked the doctor.
"Uuuuuum, I'm not really sure," I answered nervously.
"Well, I think you're gonna love them." He ushered me into a tiny room, more of a closet really, and pointed to the sink in the corner.
"Wash your hands."
While I busily swished and scrubbed, lathered and rinsed, he pulled down flat trays, thumbing through little blue-and-white packages. Apparently what he was looking for was there, for he tossed two little blue-and-white packages on the counter.
"Here you are, and the ladies will be right in to help you with those," the doctor said.
After pointing me to a chair, he left the room/closet while I pulled out miles and miles of white paper towels--not real ones, just those cheap, thin excuses for paper towels--to dry my hands. I had disposed of the excuses for paper towels, and seated myself in the chair, when a lady in a white lab coat walked through the door.
After the usual pleasantries, formalities, and how-do-ye-dos, we settled down to business. She pulled up a magnifying mirror, and I took one look.
I am supposed to stare into that thing while I put contacts in? I thought. You've got to be kidding. I can see all the way up my nose! I am going to die.As it turns out, I wasn't going to die. Not yet, anyway. The lady told me to open my little blue-and-white packages. There was a little white arrow in a corner of each, which obviously meant to pull the wrapper up there. I pulled, and it wouldn't open. So I stuck my nail under the wrapper, and it still wouldn't open. Not because of the wrapper, but because of my violinist nail, which is really not a nail at all. (If that makes any sense at all.) Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I was able to open up the package, and was staring down into a little tub of water with what seemed like the top of a jellyfish inside. The lady told me to take off my glasses, and I obeyed. Then she told me to take out the little top-of-a-jellyfish-that-was-really-a-contact and place it on the tip of my finger.
"What contact?" I asked.
"It's right in there, can't you see it?"
"No," I said.
The lady then told me to put my glasses on, take the contact and place it on the tip of my finger. I put my glasses on, so far so good. I then tried to take the contact out of the solution and place it on the tip of my finger. No go. Mr. Contact wanted to stay in the solution, and when I got him out, he wanted to stay plastered to my finger, and not raise up in a nice little bowl. Or he wanted to pretend he was a flying saucer and tilt lopsidedly all over my finger. I finally ended up giving Mr. Contact a nice little talking to, and then he settled down.
Then the lady told me to take my fingers, pull my top eyelid up, take my other hand and pull my bottom eyelid down, and place the contact in my eye, creating a gruesome spectacle.
My goodness, I thought, I've got to make myself look like that and do all those things at the same time? Oh well, the price of beauty, I guess...
So, for the price of beauty, I endeavored to make myself look like that and do all those things at the same time. And, guess what, it did not work. Big surprise! I mean, who on earth expects a person to make themselves look like that and do all those things at the same time on the first try? Absolutely no one. Except, of course, perfectionists. Who are really disillusioned people. But that's getting off subject.
So I tried again. And a third time. And a fourth. And a fifth, and a sixth, and a seventh, and an eighth, and a ninth, and so on. After about the fifteenth try, the lady suggested I try the other eye. So I did that for about twenty tries, and then switched eyes again. During this time I had received lots of helpful advice from the lady, my mom, and the eye doctor. I had also received a couple of "whoa, you look wierd"'s from my middle sister. Not to mention I had used up about fifty tissues in dabbing at my tearing eyes and running nose. I had also sprinkled about five gallons worth of contact solution all over the table, and on my face. But I was not going to give up. We Karakos may be a sinful lot, in fact we ARE a sinful lot, but we are not quitters. So I kept pulling, and poking, and blinking, and rubbing, and finally I managed to pop one contact in my eye.
"Whoa," I exclaimed. "I can SEE!!"
"All right," said the lady, "See, that wasn't so bad. Now we just have to get the other one in."
Being able to see a little bit, even if it is only out of one eye, helped a lot. I got the second contact in after about fifteen tries! New record! Fireworks, confetti, skywriting, parades, and general happiness prevailed. I was ecstatic. I could see EVERYTHING!! There was no line around my vision that dictated the boundaries of my sight. There was just clearness everywhere. I mean, sure it felt like I had flexible frisbees in my eyes, and the world was focussing like a stuck record, but I could see. That is the main point of this whole story. It's like, DUH, if I can't see, it's end of story. In fact, there would be no story.
In the midst of my celebration, I heard this voice penetrate the mists of happiness:
"Now, we just have to see you take them out."
"I'm sorry, I think I heard you incorrectly. Did you just say I had to take these OUT???"
"Mm-hm."
"But, but, but, but, but, I just worked so HARD," I wailed.
I was informed that I would still have to take them out, so it was no use pretending I was a broken boat motor. So, with a sigh, I sat back down and prepared to undo all my hard work.
And, staying with the usual trend of this story, it took about forty tries on each eye before I was able to pluck a contact out. I had received advice from everyone listed above, with the addition of a new lady, and a couple more "whoa you look wierd"s. And then I had to put it back in, so I could at least walk home without tripping over the floor. Fortunately I succeeded after about three tries that time. After I had collected my little bottle of solution, my purse, my former eyes, and all my various paraphenalia, I staggered out of the door, and into the great big world. For the first time in 10 years, I was walking in public without my glasses on, and able to see. So, doing what any normal person would do who had been unable to wear them for ten years, I headed straight for the sunglasses department. I picked out a pair of big, white, sparkly sunglasses without looking at the price tag, and bought them. Then I strutted out of the store, a new person.
And so, dear readers, the moral of my story is that if at first you don't succeed, try try again. And always remember that no matter how much it may seem to the contrary, YOU are the boss of your contacts.
The End
Note: This event occured in early August.
"Uuuuuum, I'm not really sure," I answered nervously.
"Well, I think you're gonna love them." He ushered me into a tiny room, more of a closet really, and pointed to the sink in the corner.
"Wash your hands."
While I busily swished and scrubbed, lathered and rinsed, he pulled down flat trays, thumbing through little blue-and-white packages. Apparently what he was looking for was there, for he tossed two little blue-and-white packages on the counter.
"Here you are, and the ladies will be right in to help you with those," the doctor said.
After pointing me to a chair, he left the room/closet while I pulled out miles and miles of white paper towels--not real ones, just those cheap, thin excuses for paper towels--to dry my hands. I had disposed of the excuses for paper towels, and seated myself in the chair, when a lady in a white lab coat walked through the door.
After the usual pleasantries, formalities, and how-do-ye-dos, we settled down to business. She pulled up a magnifying mirror, and I took one look.
I am supposed to stare into that thing while I put contacts in? I thought. You've got to be kidding. I can see all the way up my nose! I am going to die.As it turns out, I wasn't going to die. Not yet, anyway. The lady told me to open my little blue-and-white packages. There was a little white arrow in a corner of each, which obviously meant to pull the wrapper up there. I pulled, and it wouldn't open. So I stuck my nail under the wrapper, and it still wouldn't open. Not because of the wrapper, but because of my violinist nail, which is really not a nail at all. (If that makes any sense at all.) Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I was able to open up the package, and was staring down into a little tub of water with what seemed like the top of a jellyfish inside. The lady told me to take off my glasses, and I obeyed. Then she told me to take out the little top-of-a-jellyfish-that-was-really-a-contact and place it on the tip of my finger.
"What contact?" I asked.
"It's right in there, can't you see it?"
"No," I said.
The lady then told me to put my glasses on, take the contact and place it on the tip of my finger. I put my glasses on, so far so good. I then tried to take the contact out of the solution and place it on the tip of my finger. No go. Mr. Contact wanted to stay in the solution, and when I got him out, he wanted to stay plastered to my finger, and not raise up in a nice little bowl. Or he wanted to pretend he was a flying saucer and tilt lopsidedly all over my finger. I finally ended up giving Mr. Contact a nice little talking to, and then he settled down.
Then the lady told me to take my fingers, pull my top eyelid up, take my other hand and pull my bottom eyelid down, and place the contact in my eye, creating a gruesome spectacle.
My goodness, I thought, I've got to make myself look like that and do all those things at the same time? Oh well, the price of beauty, I guess...
So, for the price of beauty, I endeavored to make myself look like that and do all those things at the same time. And, guess what, it did not work. Big surprise! I mean, who on earth expects a person to make themselves look like that and do all those things at the same time on the first try? Absolutely no one. Except, of course, perfectionists. Who are really disillusioned people. But that's getting off subject.
So I tried again. And a third time. And a fourth. And a fifth, and a sixth, and a seventh, and an eighth, and a ninth, and so on. After about the fifteenth try, the lady suggested I try the other eye. So I did that for about twenty tries, and then switched eyes again. During this time I had received lots of helpful advice from the lady, my mom, and the eye doctor. I had also received a couple of "whoa, you look wierd"'s from my middle sister. Not to mention I had used up about fifty tissues in dabbing at my tearing eyes and running nose. I had also sprinkled about five gallons worth of contact solution all over the table, and on my face. But I was not going to give up. We Karakos may be a sinful lot, in fact we ARE a sinful lot, but we are not quitters. So I kept pulling, and poking, and blinking, and rubbing, and finally I managed to pop one contact in my eye.
"Whoa," I exclaimed. "I can SEE!!"
"All right," said the lady, "See, that wasn't so bad. Now we just have to get the other one in."
Being able to see a little bit, even if it is only out of one eye, helped a lot. I got the second contact in after about fifteen tries! New record! Fireworks, confetti, skywriting, parades, and general happiness prevailed. I was ecstatic. I could see EVERYTHING!! There was no line around my vision that dictated the boundaries of my sight. There was just clearness everywhere. I mean, sure it felt like I had flexible frisbees in my eyes, and the world was focussing like a stuck record, but I could see. That is the main point of this whole story. It's like, DUH, if I can't see, it's end of story. In fact, there would be no story.
In the midst of my celebration, I heard this voice penetrate the mists of happiness:
"Now, we just have to see you take them out."
"I'm sorry, I think I heard you incorrectly. Did you just say I had to take these OUT???"
"Mm-hm."
"But, but, but, but, but, I just worked so HARD," I wailed.
I was informed that I would still have to take them out, so it was no use pretending I was a broken boat motor. So, with a sigh, I sat back down and prepared to undo all my hard work.
And, staying with the usual trend of this story, it took about forty tries on each eye before I was able to pluck a contact out. I had received advice from everyone listed above, with the addition of a new lady, and a couple more "whoa you look wierd"s. And then I had to put it back in, so I could at least walk home without tripping over the floor. Fortunately I succeeded after about three tries that time. After I had collected my little bottle of solution, my purse, my former eyes, and all my various paraphenalia, I staggered out of the door, and into the great big world. For the first time in 10 years, I was walking in public without my glasses on, and able to see. So, doing what any normal person would do who had been unable to wear them for ten years, I headed straight for the sunglasses department. I picked out a pair of big, white, sparkly sunglasses without looking at the price tag, and bought them. Then I strutted out of the store, a new person.
And so, dear readers, the moral of my story is that if at first you don't succeed, try try again. And always remember that no matter how much it may seem to the contrary, YOU are the boss of your contacts.
The End
Note: This event occured in early August.
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