threading

there are three things that instantly make me feel a thousand times better about myself...i would love to say its kind gestures from a thoughtful mate (like the roses that arrived last week) or words of affirmation from a sweet three year old (like the 'youre a great valentine' props from the peach), but unfortunately im just not that great of a person. the three things that always make me feel better are: a tan, freshly waxed eyebrows and a shift down (ever so slight) on the scale. its that simple. im that simple. so last week while out with a friend when she mentioned this new threading thing she had done to her brows, my interest was peaked. i decided then that the first opportunity i had sans little people, i would try out this new and exciting brow shaping thing.

four days later i found myself in an interesting salon (i use 'salon' very loosely as there was the faint smell of possum urine and hazy green smoke lingering) without an appointment. nice woman from nepal puts down some strange cuisine and comes over just as the smell was having me reconsider the whole thing. i explained i was a threading virgin and was up for the thrill of manicured brows. it was at this moment with my excitement reaching an unnaturally climactic high that i realized i dont get out nearly enough. nepali chick realized it too and joining in my unnatural joy, enthusiastically led me to a seat. and while i was hoping for some cucumber water or tea, the ripped plastic chair and weird smell were all the ambiance i was going to get.

she jerked my head back and began rubbing my brows before threading a long piece of string through her fingers and...mouth. at this point i closed my eyes and happily imagined aveda like thoughts. she kindly explained i would need to hold my brow area taut to make her job a bit easier. fine. no more pretending i was somewhere else, i now had to actively participate in this fun. whatever. at this point there is some rapid ripping of brow hair going on and it is only the thought of what might happen if i move keeping me stiff and still as a board in the seat. she says something about me being 'strong lady' and 'handle pain well' as she continues tearing hair out at an alarmingly fast rate. never one to just shut up and color, i cannot resist the urge to chime in with 'well, i did have a baby not too long ago'...ha ha ha. lame, i know and pretty stupid since at the time of having a baby i had no feeling in my body, was ready to run away with my anesthesiologist and wouldnt have known the difference between birthing a baby human or elephant calf. anyway, she finishes up with one brow and while there is still a slight stinging sensation going on the entire side of my face, im not about to cut this session short with one brow looking great and the other looking like ive just spent 3o days on survivor. besides, after having my pain tolerance talked up, im feeling a wee bit over confident. mostly because im an idiot and partly because its just that easy to stroke my fragile ego.

and so begins the other side. or as i now refer to it, 'the side of hell'. within moments of me once again holding my brow taut for the brow ripping, i realize the only thing keeping my entire body from flinching out of the chair is the flexing of every muscle i have. i begin to remember one of the girls at the salon i worked at in college telling me everyone has an 'easy' brow and a 'hard' brow. basically one that lets go of the hair easier and one that doesnt. clearly, we have just discovered which is which for me. nice lady now starts saying things like, 'tearing is very normal' and 'this wont take much longer' and finally, 'a lot of people cry a bit'. nice. im not crying, i simply cannot control the excessive watering that is now coming from my eye.

the good news is, they really look much better than a wax, there is no redness (although based on the pain level, i was surprised there wasnt blood dripping from my face) and she assured me that it would be less painful next time. yes, but will it still smell like possum piss?