I know, I know - I should go to some fancy schmancy place to get my eyebrows waxed. I also should get my hair dyed by a professional, but somehow - despite the best on intentions - I always end up with a box of dye and crazy Dexter-inspired gloves doing contortion-style moves in my mirror to make sure I don't miss any spots. Sometimes if I have extra cash I'll go to the Brow Bar at Ulta and spend $25. But usually by the time I get a chance to go anywhere I'm starting to resemble Chewbaca and need to go to the nearest salon STAT before my eyebrow hair interferes with my vision. Today was one of those Chewbaca days. And evidently, not just for my eyebrows.
We've all been there - sitting in the chair at the nail salon in front of your entire neighborhood (or so it feels like) - getting our brows done, when the nice Asian lady asks, "You want your lip done too?" Cue paranoia: My lip? What's wrong with my lip? Well jeez - if she's asking I must have a serious mustache sprouting. And the next thing you know, you're saying, "Yes! Yes! Please do my lip too!"
I'm not totally convinced that these nail salons don't pump a slight relaxing agent into the air - probably Valium or Xanax - to create a more agreeable client. I mean really - how else do you explain walking in to get your eyebrows waxed and leaving with the Sisteen Chapel painted on your toenails. I walk in and agree to pretty much anything they suggest. Today was no exception.
During the eyebrow grooming, the nice lady started stroking my sideburns. I instantly thought - "Oh my gosh! I knew there was something terrible about my sideburns!" She asked if I wanted them waxed. To be completely honest, I had been somewhat paranoid about my sideburns for the past few weeks. Why? Well I was flipping through pictures of Deacon's time in the hospital and I saw quite a few profile shots of my face - and I noticed an abundance of sideburn action going on. They've always been somewhat unruly, but I never thought of doing anything to them. It wasn't like they were growing into a goatee or chinstrap or anything scary/manly like that. Until I saw those pictures and decided my sideburns were in serious need of grooming. And then of course I started Googling. And next thing you know I was in the bathroom with scissors and a razor trying to take care of my newly discovered sideburn situation. It didn't end well. A snip on one side, then trying to match the other side. It was bad. I decided to let them grow back and forget about them like I had for my previous 27 years on Earth.
That was until today, when I found myself under the spell of a certain lady with a hot wax wand in her hand. Before you knew it, she was ripping hair off the side of my face like I was Teen Wolf. I was certain at one point that I must be bleeding. Either that or she was using the claws of a cat to pull out my sideburn hairs. When she was done I looked in the mirror - knowing that at this point it was a done deal - and I felt naked. I'd never seen my face without sideburns. Without that unruly bit of hair in front of my ears. It was a bit unnerving. But as I drove home it began to grow on me. And by the time I pulled into the driveway, I was kind of in love with not having sideburns. So maybe the sweet Asian lady was right... this time. I'm a little afraid at what I'll walk out without next time. Eek!
Oh, and BTW - I'm back : ) Instead of writing some lengthy apology or explanation for where I've been or why I stopped writing, I decided to jump right back in. Thanks for understanding. XOXO, Erica