midlife breakthrough

Sunday Sundries

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Today my brother told me about how he was on a walk earlier today and got stopped by some missionaries. He told them he grew up Mormon, so he knows their angle.

They asked why he stopped going to church.

They asked him if he still believes in God.

Those are not topics he’s going to talk to just anybody about.

Those are topics even I can barely broach with him.

I mean, people exercise their faith/philosophies very differently. And it sounded like those missionaries were trying pretty hard to get my brother to open up. And it would be one thing if he actually wanted to talk, but it sounded like one those situations that, no matter their efforts, because he didn’t want to talk, they weren’t getting further in that conversation. You know?

Today I only rinsed some of the conditioner from my hair during my shower. And now? My hair feels so silky! I just worry it’ll look and feel greasy tomorrow.

A few weeks ago I got my pixie cut cleaned up at a chain salon. As the stylist snipped, hair rained on the black cape. Not just my dark-brown-almost-black hair, but a bunch of grey, too. The question is: Do I call those lighter hairs grey (definitely with an E) or silver? I mean, I’ve dyed my hair silver in the past, and it has looked rad. And I’ve definitely earned mine, so.

I’ve started a nightly face cleansing routine. Pores and wrinkles and age spots in my face; the slightest crèping in my neck and décolletage. In my 20s and through my 30s I didn’t really wash my face at night. I guess I let the oils in my skin do all the work, and only occasionally my skin would break out and I’d call it yet another puberty. But now, it seems my skin is actually starting to dry out. If I can’t control my silvering hair, then I should be able to regularly clean my face, right? Besides, after washing and moisturizing, I like how soft my face feels.

So, there’s that.

Seeing Weeks Ahead

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I have been nearsighted since high school. Got my first glasses prescription around 11th grade, and I’ve worn corrective lenses in some form for almost 30 years. And my eyes have progressively gotten worse, though a few years in my 20s my vision slightly improved.

A few years ago, my up-close reading vision started blurring. Which: gross. I told my eye doctor I’d probably need a bifocal lens, so we did tests, and sure enough I needed to add an up-close adjustment to my nearsighted prescription.

This is my third year needing bifocals, and my eyes have learned to use progressive lenses in glasses, where the bottom part is for reading, while the top 2/3 helps me see far away.

But this year I decided to get contacts for seeing distance and readers for seeing up close. I could wear the glasses while wearing contacts. The optometrist office fitted me for contacts, and and I picked out frames for readers. They shipped a year’s supply of contacts that arrived within a few days. The readers took about two weeks.

Saturday late afternoon I picked up the readers. I came home and tried them on over my contact lenses. And. They. Did. Not. Work. I could see more clearly without the readers, but seeing up close with contacts was still blurry. Seems the readers were not adjusted for having them worn over contacts, because when I tried them without contacts, I could actually read books and phones and shit like that. It was slightly annoying.

So I went to the optometrist’s office today and told the manager about the situation. I wore my contact lenses there, and the manager didn’t know if he would be able to get me in to see the optometrist to fix the prescription. Since they were only readers, the manager talked to the optometrist between appointments, who told him to try a few lenses at different strengths to see what worked over the contacts.

So that’s what we did. I held thingies that looked like little magnifying glasses over my eyeballs and told him which strength looked best while I looked at a reading card. The manager took the faulty reading glasses and assured me he’d switch out the lenses, and they’d be ready for me as soon as possible.

I still have my pair of bifocal glasses as a backup whenever I’m not wearing contacts. And if I don’t have to read up close–like, if I’m watching tv or going for a run–the contacts work great.

There are way worse problems in the world. I guess I’m lucky.

Ink

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21 August 2019 I got a tattoo. I had been thinking about getting one for a long time: what it should be, how big it should be, where to put it.

I decided on a hummingbird. In many cultures this animal represents joy, happiness, good luck, and positive energy. Love and playfulness. These are all things Z embodies. I mean, spend two minutes with her and there’s no denying it.

I also like the idea of how quickly its wings move yet gives the impression of stillness and calm. The average hummingbird beats its wings 53 times per second. This speed allows it to hover mid-air, to take its time as it siphons nectar from various flowers. As hard as it works it presents beauty while seeming to enjoy life.

That’s important.

There are tons of images of hummingbirds all over the internet. At first I didn’t know if I wanted something more realistic or fantastic or simplistic. Somehow I decided on simple and clean.

I went to a tattoo studio that a coworker likes and set up an appointment. A week later I walked in with a printout of the image I wanted. We talked about size and placement. I wanted it on my right shoulder, and if I got it big enough, he could use the colors that were on the printout, and they would be easy to see. I went for it.

The artist made a template of the printout. He suggested that the hummingbird should be facing inward, aesthetically speaking. I trusted all of his advice, because this was my first tattoo, and I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

I lay on his table, and the artist got to work. The whole thing took just over an hour, maybe 70 minutes. A few times the pen buzzed against bone, which sort of hurt, compared to the merely annoying pressure of the rest of the piece. All in all, relatively quick and mostly painless.

I spent the next two weeks applying ointment to the tattoo and covering it with clingwrap. I spent the two weeks after that moisturizing it with lotion. Reilly helped with applying ointment and bandages from time to time.

It still looks as good as it did a year and a half ago. I love this reminder of the people in my life who possess hummingbird-like qualities, especially our glorious Z.

No regrets here.