Reese Ryan

Last week I went to the eye doctor, a visit I’d been putting off for ages. My squinty eyes were desperate for a new prescription. Yet, my fragile ego was delaying the inevitable. The moment when the eye doctor confirmed that my eyes are showing signs of age. Specifically, difficulty seeing small print. For a person who spends as much time reading as much as I do (and is, frankly, sort of vain), that’s a hard pill to swallow.

After said eye doctor gave me the requisite speech regarding the sad truth of eyeballs growing old, he kindly gave me two options to address my dilemma–being blind as a bat, both long distance and when it comes to reading small print (i.e. anything less than 32 font. Just kidding. Sort of.)

For my contact prescription, I was given the option of some optometry voodoo which involves under correcting one eye. Essentially, I get 20/20 distance vision in my dominant eye. The other eye is optimized for reading, yet gives me slightly fuzzy distance vision. Somehow my brain is supposed to work all of this out and give me the best vision in both situations. The other option is to have both eyes corrected for the best distance vision and then wear a pair of reader specs when needed.

I opted for the optometry voodoo.

One week in and so far so good. I’ll try it a few more weeks before making a final decision.

As for my eyeglass prescription, the doctor barely had the question out of his mouth before I vehemently agreed that I wanted a progressive bifocal prescription. Progressive lenses give you clear distance and reading vision without the telltale lines found in traditional bifocal lenses. I’ll admit, if it weren’t for that little advance in technology, I’d probably have nixed the bifocals, too.

Just when I settled into the idea of wearing bifocals, (okay, my chest still hurts a little every time I say it), I had a second moment of “you might be getting old when…” clarity.

For a long time I’ve been wanting to see Mint Condition, one of my absolute favorite bands, in person. I’d missed the chance to see them on their most recent visits to Raleigh. I wanted to see them so badly I was ready to do a road trip to make it happen. So when Eventful sent an email to say that the band was coming to town I was absolutely ecstatic.

Finally!

I’d never been to the venue they’re playing at in October, so I did a Google search for pictures. To my dismay, it looks like one of those mosh pit kind of deals where everyone stands on their feet for the entire duration of the concert. To quote Stewie, “Say WHAAAT?”

I love the band. I really do. And I love a concert where the music is so good that everyone is up on their feet. But at this stage in the game, I’d also like the ability to sit down every once in a while. Because the last thing these old knees, feet, hips and back want to do is stand in place on concrete for two plus hours.

Sorry, Stokley. Guess I’ll have to hook up with you and the boys on a road trip after all.

That’s when I realized, though I’ll always be the girl who loves to rock it out at concerts, listens to hip-hop and enjoys an all-night reading session, some of these pieces/parts aren’t quite as young as they used to be. And that’s okay, too.

In other news, today I’m over in Hot M.A.M.A. Land talking about getting to know new-to-me multicultural authors and why the #WeNeedDiverseRomance movement isn’t just about opening the eyes of mainstream readers, but the eyes and wallets of us POC readers, too. Grab a cup of coffee and join me. I’d love to see you over there.

Smooches!

 

Stokley Williams of Mint Condition. Photo courtesy of Kenya Allmond.