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My Long and Boring Back Story
When I was a young lass, I had the most incredible eyesight. I could read small typed pages from across the room and identify licence plates from a staggering distance. It was really cool. For a while there, I was invincible. INVINCIBLE!

Life, however, always has a funny way of crash-landing you back to reality, and over the course of a few years, my eyesight went from fantastic to average to poor to complete crap. I would sit in class and squint at the blackboard all day and have absolutely no idea what I was looking at. In Grade Five, I became an expert note-taker by just writing down EVERYTHING my teacher said (which, incidentally, became a very handy skill none of my board-copying schoolmates had mastered when we all needed it in university) and spent my nights begging my mother for glasses. She didn't believe me. Also, she thought they would make me look nerdy.

I walked around half-blind for almost three years until the fateful day my mom caved in and took me to the eye doctor, hurray! But what was it that finally convinced dear Mum?

Was it the fact that I kept tripping on things I couldn't see in the street? No.

Was it the fact that three of my teachers and the school nurse told my mother that I needed glasses, IMMEDIATELY? No.

Was it the fact that I had to hold a book a centimetre from my face to actually make out the words? No.

What convinced my mom to take me to the eye doctor was my squinting and how much she hated it.

'You look like you're smelling boiled cabbage all the time, stop making that face!'

'You're going to have terrible wrinkles when you get older, stop making that face!'

'It's going to freeze like that forever, you know, stop making that face!'

And 'squintygirl' was born. It was, however, the same day I finally got glasses (the ugliest glasses you could ever possibly imagine, natch), so I never had to squint again. Nevertheless, I felt such an affinity for and alliance with squintygirl, that she stayed with me through successively uglier pairs of glasses as the years passed.

Today, I have less ugly glasses and still don't squint, but I continue to salute that industrious little girl. Incidentally, my face never did freeze that way, but I am worried about wrinkles, now that I'm a member of Threadless' Old Farts Club. I guess Mom was right about something. (She was also right about the nerdy thing, too.)

The Fighting Cacti, by Gina