Pluck That

Hola, Readers!  I’ll bet you thought I’d died, or I’d done something like Cassidy’s In-Home SRS Process!  Nope, nothing quite as dramatic.  I’ve just been working my butt off, I’ve been sick, and I’ve been tired.  As well, I haven’t had much to say, either, and who wants to hear me ramble when I’ve got jack coming out?

Thoughts have moved forward, and with the cold weather where I’m at I’ve tuned my eye to watching what all the ladies are wearing.  Next winter I’m so gonna rock a pair of flat-heeled boots, I’m telling you.  And some leggings and a skirt and a nice sweater.  Will the girls chat me up and tell me I look great?  Humm . . . probably not, but who gives a shit?  I’ll think I look nice, and I’ll post pictures so the gallery can thumbs me up or down.

But last night . . . damn you, eyebrows.  I have the worst set of eyebrows.  Frida Kahlo would check me out and go, “Chica, please, you gotta do something with that brow.”  It’s not only the Monobrow From Hell, but it’s starting to turn gray, as well as just sort of hanging out all over the place.  One more example of how testosterone has robed me of the Christina Hendricks I know I have inside.

I have a trimmer I use for things like the hair in my ears (I know), and grooming the back of my neck.  I got a hair cut last week, and I was going to work my brows down a little, but the cold I’d had two weeks before was trying to sneak back into the home I call my body, and I was feeling totally crappy.  So no trimming took place.

Last night, however,  just couldn’t stand it.  I pulled out the trimmer, put in a new battery, and just starting . . . cutting.

I got most of the stuff that was sticking out cut down.  Then I trimmed it down just a little more, thinning it a bit.  Then I looked to the sides and thought, “Yeah, I can do that,” and started slowly moving the borders back just a touch.

About ten minutes of work took place, but when I was done things looked–well, not fantastic, but a hell of a lot better than it had been. There’s work to do still, but as I thought about what I wanted to do, I realized I didn’t know what do to.  I know nothing about getting your brows into shape, you know?  So today I need to do my research   I need to know what is needed to get those brows looking a little better, bit by bit, until the time comes when they’re very pretty.  Or what’s going to pass for pretty for me.

It’s like with makeup; I need to know more before I start in on prettying myself up, ’cause the last thing I want is to end up looking like some Candy Coated Clown when I head out into the public.

Sigh.  This would have been a lot easier if I’d started doing it at thirteen . . .