Little blind girl goes to the art gallery

CC Image courtesy of iambents on Flickr

Remember that post where I said that if you’re taking me on a date, don’t take me to an art gallery because I’m legally blind and I won’t be able to see anything?  I take it back.  I went with Potential Boy Friend to a college art exhibit and found that art has changed quite a bit even since the last time I attempted to appreciate it, or at least I think it has:

 

LBG:  I’m really not sure about this.  I can’t see any of the paintings.

PBF:  That’s OK, I’ll describe them to you.  And some of them aren’t paintings.

LBG:  Photographs?

PBF:  Modern art exhibits.  There’s one that’s a collage of old heating bills in the shape of Paris Hilton.  It’s titled, “That’s Hot!”

LBG:  Very funny!  You are kidding, right?

PBF:  All the yellow highlighted bits that say “This bill is overdue” form her hair extensions.  There’s another that’s just an empty frame, entitled “Occupy This Space.”

LBG:  That I might actually believe.

PBF:  It’s listed for $7500.00.

LBG:  Not buying it in so many ways.

PBF:  Over here is a portrait of a young man in cap and gown who appears to be signing a student loan contract, while a man in a business suit stands over him holding a baby.  Let’s see what the title is–

LBG:  This should be good–

PBF:  Ah, Sale of a First-Born Child.  A striking commentary on a post-modern society.

LBG:  It speaks to me.

PBF:  And here we have a sculpture of a woman in a pose of agony, clutching a large group of children to her while staring at an envelope.

LBG:  Let me guess:  “Final Welfare Check”?

PBF:  Close:  “Niobe’s Child Care Bill Arrives.”

LBG:  I like mine better.  (Peers more closely at card with title of work)  Oh, my God!

PBF:  You totally thought I was making that up.

LBG:  Oh, my God.

PBF:  And I haven’t even told you about the woman sitting in a harness hanging from the ceiling.

LBG:  Don’t tell me.

PBF:  Her harness rises and falls with the current level of the stock market.

LBG:  Oh, my God, get me out of here!

And thus ends the latest installment in the adventures of the Little Blind Girl.  Stay tuned for the next exciting episode, Little Blind Girl goes to the Firing Range!

The results of fashion hubris

Where'd I Leave My Sunglasses

CC Image courtesy of Thomas Hawk on Flickr

This is what happens when blind girls try to be cool:

I recently went on a second date with a guy, my first second date in quite a while.  He’s tall, and I picture him as dark and handsome, and he has a great voice, so all is well thus far.  He asked where I wanted to go, and I said “Anywhere where I can wear flats,” so he took me to a meditation seminar.  Promisinger and promisinger.  Then, after the meditation seminar, we went out for extremely unhealthy food and mocked the seminar presenter mercilessly.  Could it get any better?  Yes, yes it could.

He dropped me off–at my door, after leading me up the steps because he knows I’m legally blind (I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I walk those steps every day of my life and could walk them if I were completely blind).  It wasn’t until then, at the end of the date, that I realized that I was actually wearing two different kinds of shoes!  And I’d been going on and on about what a relief it was to wear flats!  All afternoon!  I tempted the wrath of the fashion gods with my hubristic desire for comfort, and this was the result.

I exclaimed in dismay.  He, bless him, laughed and said…well, on second thought, I’m not going to tell you what he said.  Or what he did, because this isn’t that kind of blog.  But it made up for the blind equivalent of realizing I had spinach on my teeth all evening.  And there will be a third date because, let me tell you, he’s looking very good to me right now.

Blind dating

Applying cosmetics

Image via Wikipedia

I’ve been going on a long string of first dates recently, and I’ve noticed that there are a lot of dating pitfalls for the blind.  First of all, the obvious:  whenever I tell people I have a date, they ask “Is this a blind date” and snicker.  Cause, you know, I’ve never heard that one before, ever.

But if that were all, I’d take it and be grateful.  The bigger problems come before the date even starts.  Imagine trying to curl your hair blind.  Go ahead, blindfold yourself and try.  I usually end up throwing the curling iron across the room and screaming “I’m shaving my head, I swear to God!”  Then, of course, there’s the makeup application.  I’m good at foundation, blush, powder, and lip color.  It’s the eyes that get me.  There’s the eyeliner–no way am I ever going to get a straight line right by my lashes.  It will always be crooked and leave space between my lashes and the eyeliner.  Mascara, you ask?  It is for to laugh.  I usually just put on some dark eyeshadow and hope he doesn’t notice.

Then there’s the beginning of the date.  Either the guy picks me up in my parking lot or I meet him wherever we’re having our date.  Either way, I’ll be squinting and peering around, trying to recognize my date, and that posture is just so attractive!  Gotta love that first impression, a bleary-eyed hunchback.  It does accentuate the cleavage, though.  Then, since most first dates involve dinner, we reach the adventures in silverware.  Fork, knife, spoon, and no depth perception.  Fabulous!  The napkin is my friend.  I usually have to ask for extra napkins, actually, which makes me feel super-smooth.  I like this part of the date, though, because I get to sit down.  It’s hard, though not impossible, to bump into things while you’re sitting down.  My dates always laugh when I tell them that if I’m about to walk into a streetlamp, they shouldn’t assume I’m aware of it.  That Chris, she’s so funny!  Oh, my God, who knew a head wound could bleed so much?

If any guy who is preparing for a date with me is reading this, please do the following, and I will guarantee a second date:  1.  Ask me to wear flats.  2.  Warn me when there’s a step up or down.  3.  Don’t, for the love of God, take me to an art gallery.  For Christ’s sake, I’m blind!  4.  Talk to me.  I can’t see a thing, but I’m a world-class listener.  How often does that come around?  Not too much to ask, I think.  Oh, and try not to laugh too loudly when I accidentally spill the mushrooms.  It’s endearing, right?