I dunno. This may or may not be the brave smiling face of buyer's remorse. It's certainly the face of trying to figure out where to look to see what I want to look at, and how far away exactly to hold the book this time around. I think they're kind of too wide and wish I had pushed the woman to let me try on kids' frames, but maybe I will get used to them. Well: I will certainly get used to them. I don't think I get another frame allowance until 2015.
Wearing glasses is good for you in more ways than one, I will say that, especially if you can't take them off. They're the mortification through which you see the world -- without which you can't see the world. That is, they're a mortification unless you're Epiphany, whose new little half-rim glasses are so cute that I can't stop looking at them. Or couldn't, while she was here to be looked at. Now I just have to wait for her to post pictures of herself in various ecclesio-classical locales, and then when she does I tend to notice her, and then her surroundings, more than I notice her glasses. But they are awfully cute. They came from the kids' rack, and somehow still worked with her no-line bifocal thing, which is what you get when you're nineteen and have my genes.
I really liked my old glasses. Wah, just a little. No wonder I don't go to the eye doctor very often. The outcome is always a minor life trauma. But I'll probably be over it in a day or so.