Bad, bad, bad beck--a plucky girl!

I decided in a fit of boredom, disgust and the fact that I accidentally found the pluckers to pluck my eyebrows.

I was beginning to look neanderthal. Haven’t done this in, I don’t know, 10 years or something. The Lil’wrekker has ‘done me’ a couple times out of her own disgust at my inattentiveness to personal grooming.

Ya know, this isn’t easy with my vision impairments.
I get all set. The pluckers, the 4x-enlarged hand mirror and no kids or pets in the near vicinity judging me. I’ve got witch-hazel and Kleenex. Never know. Might be blood letting involved.

Start the right eye. It’s harder for me to do. My plan is to do the hard one first. So maybe I can finish.

Well…half way through I get the hiccups. Not good.
(Little back story: I’ve been having hiccups alot. I have a little personal-for-me-made video that scares the crap outta me every time I view it. Works everytime. Thx, Zo)

So I did the video. Stopped hiccups and plucked a few more hairs. Stopped to watch a bit of a movie I had on. Look again. Dang, gotta gap. Pluck around to make it better-ish. I noticed my hand tremor a couple times. This is worrying. My hand tremor is not supposed to happen. My brain has been fixed. Right, Doc?

More hiccups. More video viewing. More hand tremors. I got a nervous cough. Finally surrendered into giggles that may have turned into tears. Damnit. I’m just useless.

I lay back on my pillow. One eyebrow gapped, stoopid and unfinished. The easy eyebrow not even started.

I look up over my forehead, Bear and Meeko are now on the headboard looking down at me with a look of, no…that’s not concern, more like pity. I think.
Nothing more self-defeating than a pair of Snooty Siamese cats pitying you.

I just gave up. In my very active, busy life (ri—ght🤔, I napped) I forgot all about it.

Til dinnertime. The Lil’wrekker was eyeballing me across the table. I said “What!?” Oops. I remembered.

I did not raise my children to be judgemental. Maybe I preferred uneven, gapped, unfinished eyebrows. I gave her a dirty look. And ate.

She got up and was picking up plates and got around to me and leaned in and with some slimy snark in her voice said “Don’t worry, Ma, I can fix that little thing for you.” And patted my shoulder.

I have half a mind to just not do it. Just go around like this. Who really cares?

She did.
Came in, and in about 5 minutes. Perfect eyebrows. That girl is a wonder to behold!

The closest mall to us has been dying a long, drawn out death for years. Stores open and then close a few months later. There was a place that did “eyebrow threading” which I didn’t even know existed. But they lasted just a month or so.

I tried watching that threading one time. Thought there couldn’t be a worse job in cosmetology than pedicures and this tedious looking vocation.

As I get older, I’m 62, I’ve been keeping up with plucking unwanted hairs. Especially those thick, hard, wiry ones. Eyebrows and ears mostly. It’s a plucking pain in the pass.

My eyebrows are gonna do whatever my eyebrows are gonna do: a conclusion that I came to in my early 20’s.

However, some time after menopause I discovered that I was trying to grow a beard. If I could grow a good one, it would be somewhat tempting, if only to confuse people with; but it wouldn’t be a good one, it would be an utter straggle with a patch of hair here and a patch of hair there.

I strongly suspect that stubble would not be a good look, and would itch. Hair removal cream turns out to be expensive and time consuming. I can’t afford to and don’t want to spend time being handled by strangers at a salon. So I got an epilator. Which works, more or less; but it hurts, not much at some spots but more at others. And I keep forgetting to use it; until I get back from someplace and realize I went to town or a meeting with a distinct patch of hair sticking out of one side of my jaw.

There were some good things about being masked in public!

Humans of all the genders have hair where they should, and don’t [no longer do…] where they shouldn’t. Saves so much time, grief and sharp objects.

Threading is pretty popular around here, but most places also offer eyelash dying or facials or similar services. Like Beck, I struggle to pluck my own brows. Also like Beck, I tend to ignore them for too long. Unlike Beck, I don’t have a talented daughter around to pluck for me, so I get mine threaded…at a place in the mall.

Not only do I miss that aspect when I go somewhere sans mask, I masked absolutely everywhere for so long that I tend to forget that when people can see my chin, they’re going to think I’m working on a wispy hipster goatee. Luckily (?), the hairs are coming in mostly white.

Given what’s happening all around my mouth, I very rarely consider my eyebrows. Aren’t thick brows in now?

Does it hurt, @nelliebly ?

It does, but not as much as plucking, IME, and it’s faster. it also lasts longer.

Someone should make a video of themselves trying to pluck their eyebrows while they’re hiccuping, and thus suddenly snatching out a big painful hunk of eyebrow hair. Then you could watch that when you get the hiccups, and it would probably be scary enough to cure your hiccups. And probably of any desire to pluck your eyebrows, too. Problem solved!