Eyeball deathmatch 5/30 '18
Did you know that you have a dominant eye? I knew this, but had never considered what it might mean for my life.
So... put your arms straight out ahead of you, palms facing away from you, fingers pointing towards the ceiling. Now twist your wrists inward a teeny bit to touch your thumb-tips together and your pointer-fingertips together... this makes a diamond-shaped hole. Now find something on a wall about 10-20 feet away and look at it through the hole in your hands (make sure both eyes are open). Now close one eye. Now switch eyes. Make sure your hands didn't move. When you closed one eye your hand blocked the thing, right? And when you closed the other eye you could see it through the hole, right? Whichever eyeball you could see the distant thing through is your dominant eyeball.
I'm sure there was an easier way for me to describe how to do that, but okay.
Anyhoo, this morning I went to the eye doctor-- it had probably been nearly 10 years since I've been there. My prescription has never been all that strong, and it's only ever been for distance. Even though I only ever was supposed to wear my glasses for driving and for watching movies, I'd just keep them on all the time because it was just easier. They're so weak that they never really got in the way or me seeing stuff.
Today's eye exam showed that my distance-prescription has gotten just a teeeeeny bit worse in 10-ish years... and both my eyeballs continue to have the same prescription as each other, which is nifty. He asked if I'd resorted to cheater/reading glasses yet now that I'm 47, and I told him that just in the last year I find that if I need to read something I have to take my glasses off and read it with my naked eyes... but I don't need cheater/reading glasses yet. (Matt owns a pair of cheaters and I only use them if I'm doing REALLY close/fine detail painting for an extended period of time. But general reading and dicking with my phone, nope, still all good.)
So he asked me how I felt about contacts. I told him I only ever really wear contacts for any gigs where I need to glance at sheet music or lyrics (I keep the sheet music/lyrics far away so they don't block the audience's view-- so my everyday distance glasses/contacts work great) otherwise I don't wear contacts... my glasses are fine for everyday life. I have a gig where I don't need lyrics/music, I prefer the "psychic distance" having a slightly-fuzzy audience provides. Proof: The last time I ordered contacts was 2009, and I just used my last pair about a month ago. So I really don't wear them often.
(I brought the empty contacts box with me just so he could see my old prescription, and he said "You just used these? You realize these expired in 2016, right?" Oopsie.)
He asked if I was averse to contacts, and I said no. So he suggested we try an experiment. He figured out which eye is my dominant eye, and then did a few tests to see how dominant my dominant eye is... and as luck would have it, my dominant eye is more of a switch. ;-) This means I'm a great candidate for Eyeball Shennanigans™ -- which means I wear a distance-contact in my non-dominant eye, and I leave my dominant eye nekkid. So if I need to read, my dominant eyeball springs into action, and if I need to see far, my brain switches to my other eye with the distance-lens in it. Ta-daaaa!
So we popped one contact-lens in at noon today and HOLY SHITBALLS my life has changed. I can see EVERYTHING. It's so cool! Fuckin' eyeballs, how do they work?
For the record, eyeball dominance has nothing to do with which eye is less-blind or which eye has an astigmatism or anything. It's also not related to your dominant hand. It's just a brain thing. (My left eye is my dominant eye. Neat!)
#themoreyouknow
(Hi. My name is Jill, and I take 87 years to say what anyone else could convey in 6 sentences. Go me!)
She said "we should sit on the left side of the theater because the majority of people are right eyed" and I almost blacked out laughing.
I didn't realize that eye dominance was a thing then, but I still consider it an absurd factor in deciding where to sit at a movie.