High Brow

I’ve just come from having my eyebrows threaded, and now my eyebrows look like a couple of poorly plucked chickens. I had asked the eyebrow technician (for lack of a better term) to take off “just a little” which she took to mean, “remove most of this woman’s eyebrows and just leave a few paltry hairs behind.”

 No these are not my brows, but the “before” photo comes close!

I really should know better. 99.8% of the time beautification procedures go off without a hitch. But when I have a big trip or event looming all bets are off. 

Once before a big date weekend in Indianapolis the brow tech burned my brows with hot wax. For weeks I peeled skin off of my forehead.

Just prior to a formal dress Christmas party with Studly’s co-workers I was having my brows waxed at the salon I’d always depended on when I heard the brow tech say, “oops!” Trust me, that’s not a good omen. The good news was she didn’t charge me. The bad news was one brow had been decimated. I wore a cleavage baring dress that night and hardly anyone looked aghast at my eyebrow.

You’d think I’d be the master of the eyebrow pencil by now, but sadly I’m pretty clumsy. I did sit at a makeup counter this afternoon while a beautifully made up college girl penciled in some killer brows for me. I even bought the pencil and a tiny brush. I asked her, in my saddest voice if she thought my brows might grow back by Wednesday when I leave for Guatemala. In response she patted my shoulder and said, “There, there. They aren’t THAT bad.”

In my next life, I plan on being a spoiled house cat. They’re always immaculately groomed and have perfect eyebrows.

Peace, people.