During the last four months of college, I completely neglected my eyebrows and other facial hair. I had nobody to impress, after all. But when I came back to San Diego, I felt like a lowland gorilla. I was a few days away from being followed around by Jane Goodall. It was a serious situation.
Luckily, my mom came to the rescue and gave me the business card of her trusted eyebrow lady. I went to the appointment relaxed and ready to say goodbye to my faint mustache and unibrow. I’m not Frida Kahlo so I don’t feel like I can pull off the whole facial hair thing.
I lounged in the chair of the salon as the waxing lady made small talk. The conversation was interrupted by a burning sensation underneath my left eyebrow. Now, I’m no eyebrow wax amateur, I knew this burning was par for the course. As she deftly removed the wax, I felt more pain than usual but wrote it off to misremembering the intensity of the pain after not waxing for four months.
To add insult to injury, as she was waxing off my cool handlebar mustache (just kidding, it was mostly a Frida-like mustache – very feminine, very in this season), she asked if I wanted my lower lip waxed. Oh great, now in addition to my ’stache and unibrow, I’m growing a BEARD??? Of course, I replied, “Yes, please.”
Finally, the hair-ripping was over and I gazed into the mirror.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the hairless-est of them all?
You are, my Queen. But there is one who will overtake your hairlessness. She lives underground and her name is Snow Naked-Mole-Rat White.
As I looked into mirror more closely, however, I noticed a patch of red below my left eyebrow. The waxing lady asked, “Oh, do you have sensitive skin? It’s quite red up there.”
It took all of my self-control not to retort: “No, I don’t. You just suck at waxing and ripped part of my face off in addition to giving me third degree burns.”
As I left the salon, I immediately put huge sunglasses on my face and there they have stayed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful I have groomed eyebrows and all, I just wish it didn’t come at the price of facial disfigurement.
Luckily, some concealer and dark lighting makes it less visible. And I can’t even see it when I’m in a pitch black room! So, that’s something.
Now, if only I could convince my father to take care of those giant caterpillars trying their darnedest to meet together to form an even bigger, monster caterpillar.