If children are required to use their wordss, then shouldn't you, too?

I'm not an animal, guys. Use your words. Although, some people do have full out conversations with their pets… and I guess I am an animal (we all are), a domesticated one, too. So does this negate my whole argument?...
Anyway, as I stepped onto the Q train today, I awkwardly fumbled for the pole. In the process of doing this, I probably nearly kayoed someone with my flailing hand. But I did eventually find it.
But, by that point, the person had gotten up. I thought I'd seen it (the person rise irritably) but I second-guess my vision a lot so I just continued holding the pole.
Then, for a second, I thought I heard a muttered "you can sit." But I was not certain so I did what most people do when they are unsure: nothing.
In the next seconds my arm is shoved and I believe I heard "sit."

Is that how you would treat the old lady crossing the street? Unless your goal is thievery (or worse) would you just grab at her and force her across the stree? Or would you ask first?
I've never helped that old lady. I've probably bumped into them.So it's a genuine question.

I don't know how many times I was dragged to a seat or shouted at to sit. Countless people have told me that it would make them feel better were I seated, even after explaining that I only have one or two stops, or that I just don't want to sit.
Why do I care what sooths your nerves? Maybe standing soothes mine.

The only thing wrong with me is my vision (and I am a bit strange). I get that the vision thing may seem like this huge barrier (I'm a little awkward around other disabled people). But all of our basic composition is the same.

Just Another Day On The Bus (the events in this post occurred LastFriday Afternoon)

  "God bless you,"  a hoarse, slightly Caribbean-accented voice says from beside me.

  Is he talking to me? I wonder.

"Um, thank you,: I reply tentatively.

"Yes, bless you and I will pray for you."

"Thank you," if confusion only tinted my tone before, it was now fully colored in with a bright orange Crayola.

"I'll ask God to help you get your sight back."

  Where'd it go? is what I think. I never had twenty/twenty but neither am I fully blind. Sure, I lost a bit of vision (I didn't take my drops for a few years), but again, what exactly are you giving back...? What I say aloud, however, is another mumbled thank you.

  Then a group of my raucous peers (otherwise known as teenagers, clamber onto the bus.

  "Yo I  think there's a blind girl on tha bus," a male voice.

  Oh yeah? Where is she? I think to say belatedly.

  "Look at her," a female voice not to far from me.

"How does she do that?" Her friend asks.

How did I know they were talking about me? one might wonder.

"I think she textin'" says Girl One.

"And she not even lookin'!" was the brilliant reply of Girl Two.

Then, a few stops later, Hoarse Voice tells me to stay strong and that he would be praying... 

sigh.

People are so contradictory.  They  say that everything happens for a reason, right? God has his reasons for doing everything? So why do you persist in trying to change it? Why am I brave for smiling and laughing. How am I any braver than the woman standing before me whose "problems aren't so clear-cut?

But that rant is for another post.

He Acknowledged Me!

            "Last Friday night", my sister and I went to a Cuban restaurant.  Upon taking my sister's order, the waiter turns to me with no hesitation and says:

            "And you?"

            I was beyond ecstatic.

            "He acknowledged me!" I stage-whispered to my sister after he left us.

            The first time it happened—a waiter acknowledging me—was at a sushi restaurant a few years ago (also with my sister).  The guy seemed a little flustered on how to address me, but he did.  I think I might have teared up then.

            I get that my eyes can be...  startling but were my vision problems not so obvious, most people would not know.

            Usually, the waiters go "And what will she be having?" And even, sometimes, when I speak up they still talk to the other person.

            Sigh.

What;s Wrong With Hitting On The Blind Girl?

            I've just walked through the door of the stairway after weight training, cane in my right hand and my favorite blue hoodie—with the words "Chicago The Windy City est. 1837" written across the front of it, the words separated by the zipper—slung over my left arm.  There were a group of boys standing there, talking and joking around.  I attempted to walk around them, just as they noticed me and started jostling around to try to get out of my way.  If they had just stayed still, I would not have brushed shoulders with one of them but luckily that was the only damage done.

            As I walked away from them, their voices followed me down the hallway.

            "Did you just check her out?" One boy says.

            "No!" Another replies

            "You so were, I saw you."

            "Alright, maybe."

            "That's messed up, man."

            There laughter followed me out of earshot and I miss how the conversation resolved though I did hear one of them call the other a jerk…

ar one of them call the other a jerk...

What's wrong with checking out the blind girl?

Awww

Forgive any typos/spelling errors. I am writing on my phone.

  Originally, I was going to start our relationship off with a rant. But they say first impressions are crucial so I decided to go via the route of possitivity.

I am currently at my niece's seventh birthday party and I am bored out of my mind. The people I haven't seen in awhile but who were there as I grew up are firing questionss at me about my nonexistent love life and who I am texting currently. I am sitting in a corner (literally)  and waiting for food.

But what did add a highlight or two to the night was this little, three-year-old girl telling me that my eyes were beautiful. She kept coming back to me to say it. The second to last time she told me that I was beautiful just the way I was. And the final time was to invite me to her Frozen party...awwwIn case your wondering, both of my eyes are blue with what looks like a white film on or around them. The filmy stuff is from corneal scarring as a baby. They, my eyes, move (I have nystagnus). Forgive me if that last word was spelt incorrectly.

Ps. Now that I've finally written someting, posts should come regularly. Expect anything from one-liners to novellas.