Well it happened. I’m officially old. And I’m not talking numerically, I’m talking visually.

Yesterday I got new glasses! Yet this big news is of no huge revelation considering I’ve worn glasses or contacts since I was fifteen. However, the huge revelation is in the type of glasses.

My eye doctor likes to call them progressive lenses, but we all know they’re the b-word. The dreaded bifocals—old people specs.

I knew it was coming. All signs pointed to it, but I was hoping I could continue wearing my regular old glasses forever. I was hoping to opt out of the b-word, but everyone in my family are blind bats. I’m the youngest of six siblings and all six—plus mom and pop—sport specs, so how could I run from my bloodlines.

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And although I’m deeply grateful my new specs are the no-line bifocals—without that noticeably, inappropriate line at the bottom (do they even make those anymore?), I’m pretty sure I’ve lost my “cool points” by wearing these glasses. But guess what? I like them. And guess what else? They kinda look better than my old ones. Go figure.

So go ahead, you may call me the b-word if you like because I’m over here rockin’ my new specs with sass and grace.

[NaNoWriMo Update: Got a few more chapters under my belt, but starting to wonder if I’m in over my head.]

Photo by Maggie Smith