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“Competence, like truth, beauty, and contact lenses, is in the eye of the beholder.”

-Dr. Laurence J. Peter

            My right eye has been itching at the most inopportune times for the past few months now. It’s been unnecessarily tearing up (as in tearing up because of sadness, not tearing up my heart because of the ‘N Sync) during the end of romantic comedies, or my Business Calculus II class, or the last five minutes of LOST finales and so, armed with my trusty mini-bottle of Bausch and Lomb Opcon-A®, I’ve been forced to regularly cleanse my watery right tear duct to prevent a very slight discomfort.

            Life sucks.

            What’s even worse is when, because of this very slight discomfort, I rub my right eye with my right backhand and my right contact falls out. And what’s even worse than this is when it happens in the darkness of a Ben-Affleck-directed-Boston thrill-ride in the local cinema.

            So for the last hour-and-four minutes of the movie I had to awkwardly, and rather constantly, wink at the projected Jon Hamm on the screen in front of me. But it made me concentrate on the movie more, forcing me to focus on the supposedly-critically-acclaimed dialogue and the Academy-lauded-pained-expressions. It made me concentrate on any of the deeper themes or over-arching, subtle metaphors. I couldn’t find much, especially with my poor depth perception even more fucked up than usual.

            Conclusion: the movie wasn’t that great, one contact missing or not.