My sister Katy and I hung out the other night, topping off our evening with a viewing of the motion picture Predators. She and I used to go see bad horror movies together all the time; we don’t do it much anymore, but from time to time it helps keep us young. Or something like that.
Also, let’s be clear: Predators is not actually a bad movie. I daresay, in fact, that it’s close to being a good one, if you keep your expectations at the right level. Though it’s by all accounts a modern movie, parts of it feel like a throwback to late 80s/early 90s action films; brawny dudes exchanging wisecracks, shooting big guns, and being dispatched in ridiculously gory ways, with a token badass woman and a grouchy, misunderstood, more-to-him-that-it-seems-at-first hero. The movie takes place on another planet and is sort of a sci-fi/horror “The most dangerous game,” with Topher Grace as a weird/nerdy/probably-miscast doctor and Lawrence Fishburne as an even weirder crazy dude. People fall out of the sky and have no idea where they are. There’s a “good” predator. The sun doesn’t move in the sky. There are creepy horned “dogs.” It’s a lot of fun.
On our way to the theater, Katy asked me if I was going to wear contact lenses for my wedding. I thought about it, scratched my chin, made a “thinky” face, and eventually replied that after several months of deep internal debate, I simply don’t know.
I got my first pair of glasses at a very young age – maybe as young as 4? – and have had pretty bad eyesight ever since. After my first pair, I wore the exact same kind of frames until I was a teenager, and for some reason I’ve kept them all – I have a drawer in my bedside table with increasingly large glasses. It wasn’t until four or five years ago that I finally got myself a “stylish” pair of pseudo-hipster glasses, and it wasn’t until a few months ago that I picked out a pair all by my little self. I was pretty proud of that, actually. I get a lot of compliments on the frames. “What, these ol’ things?” I usually say.
Towards the end of high school and all the way through college, I wore contacts every day. I’d decided I’d had enough of having a plastic contraption on my face that slid off when I was sweaty and discouraged sharp peripheral vision, among other drawbacks. But after college, I just stopped wearing them. I don’t know if it was laziness, the constant irritation in my eyes, or the combination, but now I only wear contacts for me weekly softball games and the occasional athletic event I participate in.
What I said to Katy was this:
“For a while, I was sure I’d wear my glasses for my wedding. My glasses are way more “me” than my contacts. Everyone is used to me wearing them. But then I started thinking about that, and realized that that rationale doesn’t make a lot of sense: the entire wedding is not very “me” at all. I’ll be wearing a suit – or at least fancy clothes – which I rarely ever do. I’ll be proclaiming my love for a hot babe in front of 150 people, which I do rarely, if ever. I’ll be spending $10,000 on one single evening, which sometimes seems so crazy I can’t even rationalize it. I may be baking 300 dinner rolls, which is about 10 times as many as I’ve ever made before.”
The point is, I shouldn’t wear or not wear glasses because it reflects my true self the best. In reality, I probably should just do whatever the heck I want, whatever feels the most comfortable to me.
My guess is that I’ll wear them, because I won’t have to worry about my eyes getting red or my contacts falling out. But then again, maybe I’ll wear them for the ceremony and then take them off for the dance-times.
I imagine all of you will wait with bated breath to find out what I choose.