Eyebrows... the key to the face.

I awoke this morning a bit peeved. This is not usual for me as I am quite a morning person and usually look forward to the possibility that each day brings. Not today. I rolled out of bed early to head to pilates and when I reached the bathroom I was rudely reminded of my loss. Yesterday, sadly and to my complete dismay, I was butchered.

Let me explain. You see yesterday afternoon I went to my monthly wax appointment to get a little trimming done on the face. Yes, I said face. I am now openly owning up to the fact that I wax my eyebrows and lip. If you've ever seen my Hawaiian father, and the abundance of hair that covers his body, than you understand. I've kept up this practice since early junior high years, yes a little while now. I personally hold great value in perfectly shaped brows. I feel they are the key to the face and can really make or break your expression. They show surprise, disbelief, or mild disapproval in a way that no other facial feature can quite capture.

The woman whom I would normally call a waxing goddess completely slaughtered my brows yesterday. For some reason only known to she and Buddha, she took a step back into the year 2000 and gave me an anorexic brow! Argh!!!! I absolutely hate this look. And the hardest part? My eyebrows are not of the extremely furry vintage. Oh no, they are sparse and take FOREVER to grow.

Eyebrows are very important. I recall a fond memory of my dear sweet Grandma when she had just recently had her eyebrows tattooed. Now while I am not interested in this permanent procedure because of the ink -- again my Hawaiian Father: my hair is DARK, all of my hair is DARK. I've seen girls with dark brows get them tattooed only for the ink to fade into a lovely lavender color. But my Grandmother doesn't have the same dark hair that I do and over the years her tattooed brows have proven to be a pretty good investment. One specific afternoon while she was still in the healing process (this means that she had to goop them up and they were quite bold) we caught her watching Fear Factor with my brother. She then inquired about a certain item the contestants were ingesting, and with her goopy angry brows the emphasis came at quite a shock. "Buffalo testicles?" Needless to say that this statement still illicits a laugh.

Now Jeff, lucky guy, has the opposite problem. My how his brows groweth! In fact I found one aforementioned brow hair that had decided to hook up with one of his ear hairs. (they groweth abundantly too.) I'm not kidding you this one hair was about two inches long. Lucky guy. He could change the shape every couple of weeks. A browhawk one week, anorexic brows the next.

I guess this experience is to teach me humility. Or to find a new wax goddess. Maybe both...