This was supposed to be about my Lasik eye surgery, but is really about the beach
About 7 1/2 years ago I had Lasik eye surgery. I went from severely nearsighted to very slightly nearsighted. It was freedom! I could get up in the middle of the night with a crying baby and not have to search in my foggy sleep stupor for where I place the glasses on my headboard. Freedom meant I could swim and actually see where I was headed in the water. (There is a story of getting lost on the beach here. . .
When I was 13 years-old I went with a church group to southern California. We went to Sea World, Disneyland and the beach. It had been a great trip! There were 20+ girls there and the final full day of the adventure was spent at the beach. We got there early and set up our towels and bags in several small bunchings. There was a huge red flag set up to separate the regular beach goers away from the rougher waters and riptides. (Being from the desert I didn't fully understand what this meant). There were surfers out on the other side of the red flag and we watched them for awhile and then all headed into the water ourselves on the 'safe' side of the water. This was my first experience with boogie-boarding and we were having a blast! I had left my glasses up with my bag and towel on the beach. So, after going out to catch a wave to boogie in on I would look (well mostly listen) for my friends and rejoin them on the beach. I went out to get another wave and I ended up further out than I had planned. I lay, stomach-down, on that boogie-board and kicked to come back to shore. Now, I wasn't kicking all that hard and didn't think for an instance that anything was wrong. I was still just waiting for that wave to pull me in. Suddenly, next to the board an amazingly gorgeous blond head popped up out of the water. A lifeguard had come to save me! I didn't even realize I needed saving. He told me that the riptide had changed and he would pull me into the shore. I never realized I was in any danger, or even caught up in a strong current. But apparently I had been pulled quite a ways north from where I had entered the water. The lifeguard failed to mention this. He probably thought I knew how far I had been gently pulled. But I couldn't see. I didn't even know there was a lifeguard coming until he poked up next to my boogie-board. He was so cute, I was rather speechless. Me speechless at 13 was a rather rare thing indeed. So he pulled me to shore and I, blushing from embarrassment of having been rescued, ran off toward the other side of that red flag where my group had camped out. I couldn't find anyone. I strained my ears to find a familiar voice. I squinted in the bright sun to try to make out anyone that might be familiar. I walked up the beach. I walked up the beach further. I stayed right by the waters edge, knowing if I wandered into the throng of people who arrived I would become completely disoriented. (Of course, I really was already completely lost) The funniest thing is that I never felt really afraid. I think my partial blindness gave me a sense of anonymity. As if everyone I passed only saw me as well as I saw them. Which meant, I was hardly there at all. So I looked and looked up the beach and then back down the beach. There were so many people and as I grew completely exhausted from walking up and down the beach, dragging the boogie-board, I wondered what had happened to all those people I knew. Then I was found. A couple of the other 13 year old girls found me. Talking over each other, they told me all about how everyone was terribly worried about me. How they had talked with the lifeguard who had rescued me. How everyone had split into teams and was wandering the beach to find me. I felt horrible. Immediately my sense of anonymity was shattered and I was sure I had destroyed everyone's afternoon at the beach. So, again, embarrassment silenced me. I was brought back to the group and I dug my glasses from my bag. Look around I was startled to realize I was nowhere near where we had set up camp at first arriving. Apparently, tides and currents change. They had moved my 'find my stuff marker', that huge red flag. No wonder I couldn't find anyone! It wasn't my fault at all. Parking lots always have huge signs to tell you where you parked your car. To my fuzzy eyes that flag had been the perfect marker to find my towel again. Riptides were not my friend that day.
How funny to get drawn into telling that story. When I started typing this post I was going to complain about how I have to wear glasses again. It seems my eyes have developed astigmatisms which makes reading a computer screen difficult. So, about a month ago I relented and got some glasses. Now, when I don't wear the glasses I end up leaning in to see everything I am writing. I didn't used to do that. I think my eyes are so happy I got them some clarity, they rebel against doing things without it. So, I got sucked into telling that long story, and I, without said glasses, find my neck aching a bit as I am leaning into my monitor to see this.
I am so silly sometimes.
When I was 13 years-old I went with a church group to southern California. We went to Sea World, Disneyland and the beach. It had been a great trip! There were 20+ girls there and the final full day of the adventure was spent at the beach. We got there early and set up our towels and bags in several small bunchings. There was a huge red flag set up to separate the regular beach goers away from the rougher waters and riptides. (Being from the desert I didn't fully understand what this meant). There were surfers out on the other side of the red flag and we watched them for awhile and then all headed into the water ourselves on the 'safe' side of the water. This was my first experience with boogie-boarding and we were having a blast! I had left my glasses up with my bag and towel on the beach. So, after going out to catch a wave to boogie in on I would look (well mostly listen) for my friends and rejoin them on the beach. I went out to get another wave and I ended up further out than I had planned. I lay, stomach-down, on that boogie-board and kicked to come back to shore. Now, I wasn't kicking all that hard and didn't think for an instance that anything was wrong. I was still just waiting for that wave to pull me in. Suddenly, next to the board an amazingly gorgeous blond head popped up out of the water. A lifeguard had come to save me! I didn't even realize I needed saving. He told me that the riptide had changed and he would pull me into the shore. I never realized I was in any danger, or even caught up in a strong current. But apparently I had been pulled quite a ways north from where I had entered the water. The lifeguard failed to mention this. He probably thought I knew how far I had been gently pulled. But I couldn't see. I didn't even know there was a lifeguard coming until he poked up next to my boogie-board. He was so cute, I was rather speechless. Me speechless at 13 was a rather rare thing indeed. So he pulled me to shore and I, blushing from embarrassment of having been rescued, ran off toward the other side of that red flag where my group had camped out. I couldn't find anyone. I strained my ears to find a familiar voice. I squinted in the bright sun to try to make out anyone that might be familiar. I walked up the beach. I walked up the beach further. I stayed right by the waters edge, knowing if I wandered into the throng of people who arrived I would become completely disoriented. (Of course, I really was already completely lost) The funniest thing is that I never felt really afraid. I think my partial blindness gave me a sense of anonymity. As if everyone I passed only saw me as well as I saw them. Which meant, I was hardly there at all. So I looked and looked up the beach and then back down the beach. There were so many people and as I grew completely exhausted from walking up and down the beach, dragging the boogie-board, I wondered what had happened to all those people I knew. Then I was found. A couple of the other 13 year old girls found me. Talking over each other, they told me all about how everyone was terribly worried about me. How they had talked with the lifeguard who had rescued me. How everyone had split into teams and was wandering the beach to find me. I felt horrible. Immediately my sense of anonymity was shattered and I was sure I had destroyed everyone's afternoon at the beach. So, again, embarrassment silenced me. I was brought back to the group and I dug my glasses from my bag. Look around I was startled to realize I was nowhere near where we had set up camp at first arriving. Apparently, tides and currents change. They had moved my 'find my stuff marker', that huge red flag. No wonder I couldn't find anyone! It wasn't my fault at all. Parking lots always have huge signs to tell you where you parked your car. To my fuzzy eyes that flag had been the perfect marker to find my towel again. Riptides were not my friend that day.
How funny to get drawn into telling that story. When I started typing this post I was going to complain about how I have to wear glasses again. It seems my eyes have developed astigmatisms which makes reading a computer screen difficult. So, about a month ago I relented and got some glasses. Now, when I don't wear the glasses I end up leaning in to see everything I am writing. I didn't used to do that. I think my eyes are so happy I got them some clarity, they rebel against doing things without it. So, I got sucked into telling that long story, and I, without said glasses, find my neck aching a bit as I am leaning into my monitor to see this.
I am so silly sometimes.
3 Comments:
Yes. You are silly sometimes.
Oh, and hey! Who's this amazingly gorgeous blond lifeguard that you never told me about?
It isn't this guy is it? Maybe in his younger, blonder years?
-= M =-
I feel your pain. I gave up on contacts a while ago and lose my glasses often. I do find taking my glasses off a refreshing alternative to having to vacuum every day. If I can't see it, it isn't there.
I went back to wearing glasses only about 6 weeks ago. My 6 yr-old got glasses for the first time just a week before me. She is constantly bringing me my glasses and reminding me to wear them. I suppose it is only fair, since I do the same to her.
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