Walking on Broken Glass(es)

Posted: March 21, 2012 in Photography
Tags: , , , , ,

Back in 2009, I found the geek glasses of my dreams, and though there was a small issue of miscommunication between myself and the Japanese salesgirl (I needed the legs to be tighter, and she was spreading them like it was Basic Instinct 3), she soon had them soldered back to perfection. Over time, however, they quietly crept back into a state of bowleggedness, which is why I paid a quick visit to Boots Opticians earlier this year and asked if they could do anything to alleviate the spectacles’ ever-deepening rickets. Scarcely five minutes had passed when the optician returned, and – joy of joys – handed me a pair of glasses that were the correct shape for my head for the first time in about three years…an elation that lasted all of two months until they literally snapped apart in my hands while I was in the middle of cleaning them.

My resulting horror is threefold, owing to the fact that I a) paid about a third of a month’s wage for these glasses at a time when I was being vastly overpaid by the Japanese government, b) have but one spare pair, and those with a prescription that’s so out of date that I gave myself eye strain within an hour of wearing them, and c) have resorted to fixing the broken pair with honest-to-god tape, which has removed all the irony of wearing geek glasses in the first place and left me a neck-brace short of the nerd who dies first in an ’80s horror movie. And lest we forget d) the fact that three independent opticians have pronounced them irreparable.

At present, I’m exploring two avenues of rescue: either by somehow tracking down the exact same frames through the magic of the internet (which would, in turn, eliminate the cost of buying new lenses since I could cannibalise them from the existing pair) or using this otherwise disaster to justify the purchase of a new and completely different pair as I was so idly considering doing before any of this happened. The only problem with the latter solution: I am notoriously difficult to please (in all avenues of life, but especially when it comes to something that will be attached to my face), and also that I can’t tell if I’m attracted to these Oliver Goldsmith frames, or just the model wearing them. More on this situation as it develops.

In lighter news: a few recent photos, predominantly – though not exclusively – feline in nature. Contain your shock.

John got his hair did! And then we went out and bought new clippers because that beard situation was getting out of control.

He also made Cullen Skink – inversely delicious as to how the name makes it sound. (Also Scottish, which I was not aware of.)

Alf was far less amused with his impromptu Wizard of Oz re-enactment than we were.

He’s recently migrated from the sink to the draining board.

I forgot to take a picture of the “Gin & Titonic” ice cube tray I bought for my mum, but this is the one I gave to John. Who has a phobia of sharks.

Wilfred has been giving the best face this week.

Case in point (and precursor to this.)

On one of mum’s recent visits to Glasgow, Wilfred was unceremoniously bundled into her jumper, where he proceeded to fall asleep.

I think he was actually quite content in there.

My guess is they just heard a rustling in the direction where the food lives.

And, somewhat less photogenically, a list of things I hovered up from under the sofa one day, as stashed there by the cats:

– 1 bottle lid
– 1 teacake wrapper
– 5 ping pong balls
– and a roll of surgical tape (?!)

They were unearthed for roughly the length of time it took me to grab this picture before the cats reclaimed their rightful property. And so the cycle continues.

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