The time I got my eyebrows waxed

I have big black eyebrows. They're not as big as they used to be though, because I've sort of grown into them. When I was a kid, I was ALL eyebrows. I had no forehead at all.

Even now that I'm old, I'm still afraid that when people look right at me, they're just looking at my eyebrows. I was called all sorts of things in school, "Barbara BUSH", "Bert" and "The Muppet" were just a few of those things.

I thought if I went and got my eyebrows waxed, I'd look better, and then I'd be less paranoid about the whole eyebrow issue.

How wrong I was.

A few years ago, I went and got my eyebrows waxed. The lady told me that I had very nice eyebrows, and that she'd just clean then up a bit and that was it. I looked fine—there really wasn't enough of a difference to even notice. I went back three times and was very pleased. Until one day, I went in the place to have my eyebrows touched up, and I was told that the lady I liked so much had quit and that Kimmy was the one waxing eyebrows at that day and time.
I thought Kimmy would probably be ok, I mean, how hard is it to wax eyebrows? I should have known it wasn't a good idea when I saw that Kimmy had no eyebrows, and had indeed, drawn her eyebrows on her forehead with a marker—or a pencil, I don't know which. She then informed me that she used to have eyebrows just like mine. I should have run away then, but alas, I did not.

She waxed my eyebrows, I thanked her, gave her tip, and went on my way.

The first person I encountered after the waxing was my brother Josh.

Who said, and I quote, "Yo cracky, what happened to your face?"

I said, "What do you mean?"

Instead of explaining to me what the issue was, Josh instead told me, and I quote, "I don't know why you're here, I haven't got any crack. You should get back on the street corner if you want to score some."

I left, because I found Josh's comments to be confusing and offensive.

Instead, I went to go see my friend Margaret. Who said, when I saw her, and I quote, "Gosh, it is true."

To which I responded, "What's that?"

"There are aliens."

And I was just like, "How do you know that, Margaret?"

"Because, you must have seen one—you looked so surprised!" HA HA HA

When I saw my mother, she gasped, "My God Barbie," She said to me, "You know, I knew a girl who did that to her face once, and her eyebrows never did grow back!"

Man, I thought I was paranoid about my eyebrows BEFORE I got the damn things waxed. I looked like an idiot. After I realized how cracked out I looked, I began staring at my bald forehead and praying like hell that my damn huge, bushy, brows would grow back.

In my rush to get my eyebrows to return, I even considered using Rogaine with Monoxinal. I went so far as to send away for a catalog from the Hair Club for men.

My plan was to use it on my forehead to get my eyebrows to grow back.

Luckily, I never got any of the Rogaine, instead, I tracked the return of my eyebrows in the mirror, and watched as they slowly grew back.

I felt strange with no eyebrows. Like a part of me was missing.

Once they grew back in, I never messed with them again. Sure, I pluck in between them, and I get any stray hairs, but by God my eyebrows are large and proud. I 'm just glad to have them, that's the way I feel about it.

I love my eyebrows now, dammit. Their big and I like that. I think the smartest people in the world have big damn eyebrows. When I get to be an old lady, I'm going to slick them straight up on my forehead with Brillow cream, just like Herman Munster did.