Tuesday, November 10, 2015

My First Warby Parker Experience: Simply AMAZING!

Remember how I stoked I was to be told by my optometrist last week that I needed a pair of spectacles?

Well tonight, I walked into my building's vestibule and nearly (okay, actually) squealed when I saw the Warby Parker package awaiting me.

I hurried into my apartment and eagerly opened my Home Try-On Kit.

And man oh man, was it ever cool.

I knew it would be cute, but I wasn't expecting it to be this adorable and clever!

I tried on all of the glasses countless time. And then I subjected Adam to watching me try them all on a few more times. Just for good measure.

Naturally, I couldn't decide upon a single pair so went with two.

The Otis...

...and the Welty.

I think the Otis will make me look smarter than I actually am and vaguely Harry Potter-esque.

As for the Welty, my hopes are that I will appear cool and eclectic. You know, the kind of girl who runs a nonprofit on the side and knows how to use Photoshop.

I'm just so impressed with the whole Warby Parker experience. From choosing my five frames for my home trial—I accidentally ordered two of the same pair, and the company's Customer Service was super friendly and helpful—to how exciting it was to receive a cute package in the mail with awesome glasses frames to model, ordering a pair (or two) of Warby Parker glasses was just so...well...happy.

And on top of all of the fun? The ordering experience was super easy and user-friendly. The company even allows you to submit a photo of your prescription rather than you trying to discern all of the details yourself.

Oh, Warby Parker, I'm smitten.

I'm already keeping my fingers crossed for a prescription change in two years! ;)

Monday, November 9, 2015

Just as I am

I'm fairly sure I've been a hopeless romantic since the day I was born.

I can remember lying on my stomach in front of the television as my mom and I laughed and swooned over While You Were Sleeping. I was only seven or eight at the time, and while I didn't understand all of the dialogue or humor (Peter's basketball "accident," just for example...cringe!), I did know one thing: I loved love. 
My teenage years were filled with crushes on boys who hardly knew I existed, and my first serious boyfriend ended up being gay. 

Things weren't off to such a great start. 

But still, I knew that someday, I would find someone great. My own Jack Callaghan, if you will. 
And so I continued on, muddling my way through brief relationships and flings with guys who either lacked that certain zsa zsa zsu or simply weren't the right fit for me.

I figured I'd meet Mr. Right later, maybe in my early thirties when I was living in a posh city and was a published author. You know, when I was thinner and had longer, shinier hair. And perhaps a more stylish wardrobe. 


I never let myself get bent out of shape over the fact that I was chronically single. I enjoy my own company, and I liked the stories and adventures of being a singleton. 

But then on a muggy night in June, with frizzy hair and wearing my favorite red rain boots, I met Adam in a crowded bar. 

He asked me out that following week, and like a typical anxious person, my worries and apprehension grew and grew as the date drew closer.

What if he was a total weirdo? What if he didn't look anything like I remembered? What if we had nothing in common and sat in silence for hours? What if he was a kidnapper? What if this was all some sort of sick Lifetime movie plot about to go down?

Normal singleton fears.

All of my hesitation vanished though the moment I saw Adam that night.

It reminds me of this scene from Big Fish

They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that's true. 

I felt something very special—that magical mix of intense excitement and complete comfort. 

It's an odd and wonderful mingling of feelings.

Those feelings become even more extraordinary when you the object of them is someone who likes—and then loves—you exactly as you are. 

You know, just like the famous line from Mark Darcy in Bridget Jones's Diary!

Anyways, I'm writing all of this because I'm having one of those nights where I just feel all gushy and grateful for Adam.

Last night, Adam made us shepherd's pie. And even though he had a lot of freelance work to do, he still sat beside me on the couch, his laptop perched on his knees, as I watched every Christmas episode of The Office

And this evening, when I was having a nervy-b about medicine I had forgotten at his apartment, he insisted on driving it downtown to me, including a bag of homemade beef jerky (not so classy, I know) with the delivery.

I knew I would meet someone special someday, but I never expected someone this special. I never thought I would find a person who could make me feel so happy, warm, and free, all through such a big and accepting kind of love.

I've learned to love myself more through Adam, and I'm constantly trying to be more like him, as he is much kinder and more giving than me. 

Thank you for being you, Adam, and for supporting, challenging, and loving me despite all of my weird quirks, tears over anything remotely emotional, and constant phases (Remember the water color kit?). 

I love you, and I like you.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Clem's Night at the Spa

This evening, I came home from work and promptly informed Clem that she was going to have a spa night.

Unlike most women, Clem hates spa nights.

Still, I try to win her over with luxurious shampoo, scented candles, and a jacuzzi full of warm, bubbly water.

What's not to love?

While Clem still did not exactly adore her bath, she did behave better than usual. She didn't try to escape, and she only whined once.

Best of all, my little gal is now fresh as a daisy!

City girls need to keep up appearances and all.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

An Afternoon at the Optometrist

For the past month or so, my right eye has been perpetually watering.

It's annoying, sometimes painful, and super embarrassing.

Because it looks like I'm crying and all.

Walking around town. In meetings at work. Out at the bar.


So many tears and so much silly embarrassment.

What was even worse? My left eye wasn't doing so hot either.

Often, I would wake up in the morning with eye pain and watering from that side, as well.

When I had to go home early on Halloween night due to eye discomfort, Adam finally got real with me.

"This week, you have to make an appointment with the eye doctor," he said seriously.

I knew he meant business. And I knew he was right.

So this afternoon, I made my first visit to the optometrist in five years.

My optometrist is tall and thin. She excitedly whirls between her various instruments and tools. She reminds me of a kind, breezy mad scientist. She does everything with a flourish, full of passion for your eyeballs.

Even when she told me everything that was wrong with my eyes, it came out sounding all, And isn't this interesting and cool?

It turns out that I have dry eyes (for which I was given artificial tears), an astigmatism, blind spots, and I need glasses.

Yes, bloggers.

Finally, finally! I got to log on to Warby Parker tonight and place my order for five pairs of super hip, super cool frames to try on at home before choosing my parfait pair.

The frames below are probably the ones I am most excited about.
Apparently so excited that I stupidly placed two pairs in my cart.

Amateur mistake.

Anyhow! I've been waiting for this day since I tried purposefully failing my eye exam in the second grade.

My day has finally arrived.

Monday, November 2, 2015

A Late-Autumn's Walk

Thoughts as I walked home from work this evening...

As I twirl my way out of the revolving doors and onto the city sidewalk, I feel proud.

I've had a great day at work—busy and productive (and full of entirely too much leftover Halloween candy).

I also fit in an energizing workout and even scored a treadmill in front of a TV, meaning I got to watch "Say Yes to the Dress" for an entire hour. This is a real luxury for a girl who doesn't love to work out and also does not have cable at home.

Regardless, I always feel proud when I leave my building. I work for an incredible company, and I have a career where I actually get to use my undergraduate and master's degrees.

Je suis une fille chanceuse.

The evening is warm, especially for the first week of November, and I leave my coat unbuttoned as I stride towards home.

I look inside each and every window I pass.

The restaurants are my favorite. I get to look at fancy dinner plates and cozy couples. I watch wine glasses touch and can practically hear them clink. I can smell savory meats and onions cooking. It makes me hungry.

I see that the holiday lights have already been strung throughout the trees surrounding Fountain Square, and it makes me happy.

Stopped at a crosswalk, I look at my reflection in a shop window.

I'm wearing a formal, white pea coat. I'm not sure why, but I love how it looks paired with my yoga pants and gym shoes. It looks silly yet somehow confident and sure.

I pass beneath the lighted archways that cover the park near my apartment. Most of the leaves have already fallen from the trees.

I stop and take a photo, wanting to remember the moment.

A jogger, a girl around my age, stops and runs in place while I take the photo. She's thoughtfully trying to stay out of the shot.

"Merp. Sorry," I smile, embarrassed.

She laughs and nods before running away.

I wish I could be a runner.

I look inside the barber shop as I get closer to home. The walls are a light green, and the elderly barber is still busy. He has two clients in his chairs and a few on deck waiting. He sells potato chips and candy for customers while they wait. And he has a giant photo of Chicago on one wall. His fluorescent lights glow bright and hearty laughter booms from inside.

Finally, I arrive to my pink brownstone.

After checking my mailbox, I open and then close my apartment door loudly, so that my darling (and deaf) Clementine can feel the vibrations and know I'm home.

I call out to her and stomp my feet around a few times.

Groggily, she walks out of my bedroom, sleep in her big, foggy eyes and her movement slow.

When she makes out my figure, her ears perk up and she gallops down the long, long hallway towards me, her long tail wagging and her butt waddling.

I feel sure that some of the happiest moments of my day happen during my evening walk home.