My eyes are somewhat unusual, at least from what I've seen. They are greyish-green, with a strange little circle of orange ringing my pupils. Since I was old enough to have boyfriends, I have sat across from them in booth seats in cheap restaurants, feet kicking, hands fidgeting, eyes shut tight, and asked, "What color are my eyes?"

Somehow I thought that guys were taught by their fathers to respond to this question in a very serious and flattering manner, always including the words limpid, beautiful, and pools. I felt for whatever reason that this question was very grave, and if the boy was wrong, that he must not love me. The worst was to be told brown, because my eyes are light, and this told me that the boy in question was not the one for me. He obviously did not think I was all that great if he couldn't remember (or worse, didn't know) what color my eyes were.

I have never been satisfied by any answer that I have been given. I have been told green, grey, hazel, brown, blue, dunno, trout, and most recently, wooden. Wooden is only an acceptable response because it comes from someone I love and accept, and because it makes no sense. My strange attachment of meaning to a question also makes no sense. It took a long time to realize that, but still I take offense to the wrong answer. I suppose it's a point of vanity for me.