Something’s Amiss

Back in high school I sported the very unattractive uni-brow. Why I listened to my Mother and did not try to put some shape into my brow, I still don’t know? She told me the longer I waited to pluck, the less headache I would have down the road. Well maybe Mom, but you weren’t the one getting-made fun of each day in school.

Luckily for me, my elder sister had already broken the no pluck rule and was ready to assist me in my misfortune. While on Christmas break, my sister told me to bring her a pair of tweezers, sit down in front of her and lay my head in her lap. One hour later, she handed me a mirror. I went from uni-brow to a pair of pencil thin perfectly arched eyebrows. An exact duplicate of her look. Don’t get me wrong. Her plucking abilities were gorgeous but I looked like a different person with red and swollen eyebrows. No wonder my eyes were tearing nonstop the entire time. It was a drastic change. It took almost the entire week for the redness and swelling to dissipate.

When I returned to school, of course I drew a lot of attention. Something I have never enjoyed, even now. I’d rather blend into the crowd than make an entrance. Sadly, this was not the case. Almost everyone who encountered me that day asked me the same questions:

1) Did you get contacts over break? ( I do not wear glasses)
2) New hair style? ( In high school I had long straight hair)
3) Something is different, what is it?

I cannot tell you how quickly all the attention wore me down. I would politely say no; hair style is the same and I don’t even wear glasses. I did not want to announce that the change involved my eyebrows. Too embarrassing I guess. Not the new brows, the attention they garnered.

I almost made it through the day without having to divulge my change in appearance. Then it happened, in History class. My new look completely baffled my teacher, Mr. Stewart. He would keep interrupting his lecture with the standard questions and I would tell him no, all is the same. He tried to continue with class but it was bugging him to no end. He asked me one last time. "Wicked, you look very different. What is the change?" I summoned up all my courage, stood up next to my desk and announced, "I plucked my eyebrows. Do you mind?!?!?!"

Well he finally understood that I did not want the attention. Good ole Mr. Stewart, he was dense that way. With that came a barrage of complements and one very backhanded one. Phillip whom I secretly had a crush on for most of my time in school told the class "oh yea, she doesn’t look Russian any more!" ( Gee, thanks Phillip - end of crush)

Mamas, don’t let your daughters grow up with bushy eyebrows. Trust me. You’ll thank me one day.