Lip Service

As with all obligations and comittments to grooming, one sometimes has to sacrifice a bit of dignity to keep up appearences and/or not frighten young children. I woke up on Friday morning, looked in the mirror, and wondered with amazement where my three extra eyebrows had come from. Seriously, no longer eyebrows, welcome EYESBROW. I was shocked- how had i not noticed this, did I need the extra fur to protect me from the cold? Regardless of subconcious intentions, I decide that they need to go- NOW. I look at my day and realize that I am not sure I will have the time to pluck all of these little guys out.... I need a wax. stat! After heading to the gym, in true Claire fashion I agree to go to the local bar with my brother and Andrew for lunch and a few pre-celebration beers. I am looking pretty classy at this time as I went straight from the gym to the bar. (its really the only way to do it) Not to worry, this bar has very low standards so there was no way that anyone was offended by either the look or the smell of me post gym. I convinced the boys to help me track down a salon that would be open so I could get rid of these monsters shading my view... even my brother said,"Jesus Claire, what happened?" I know-
So we set off and after three closed salons I was a bit discouraged, and then the holy land, there it was- I don't even know the name, but I saw the neon light "Walk Ins Welcome" there may be a God after all. I step in, send the boys off, and declare that I have an eyebrow emergency. The girl says in her sweet angelic voice, "Come on back, Claire" Oh bless you. After I lean back,she says,"ohh." and I ring in" yeah, I've really let myself go here, if you could do your best to at least seperate them so they look like two different eyebrows, you would really make my day." Then she kept asking me if I was celebrating, having a good day, with an implied tone... and then I realized that as she is less than a foot away from my face, she probably smells the beer. So I say, you know, getting started a bit early, a few beers with lunch... What are you, a cop? She gets me all cleaned up and the dreaded words fall from her lips unto my newly shaped expressive eyes, "DID YOU WANT ME TO DO YOUR LIP?" ugh. This is code for, you have a mustache and should really take care of it. I have had this done once before, as I do not have dark hair om my lip, but the blonde ones do get a tad unruly at times. I guess it was the time. I reply," Yeah, I guess I shouldn't sport a mustache for New Years, but I am warning you, I have only had this done once before and cannot be held responsible for the words that come out of my mouth. As soon as you rip the wax from my lip, I will begin swearing, just so you know." She takes one for the team,"I can handle that." Really? She smears me lip with the warm wax and it feels nice for a minute and then counts... ONE.. TWO..... RIP... THREE.... that bitch tricked me. Me: Jesus Christ! Motherf**k, son of a bitch...ahhhhh! Her: You weren't kidding Me: I don't joke about hair removal. And we went through this once more upon the removal of the other half. I comforted her with the fact that I do not ususally use these phrases as a part of my regular dialogue but something scary happens in that second when the hair is ripped away, and damn, it turns me into a trucker. My family would be so proud.

Now- here is the never ending dilema. Do I wax for a smooth lip and its accompanying little bumps and random spots that follow? or do I opt for the manageable but a bit hairy lip. I have yet to find the balance. I will continue to maintain the eyes, that is an unspoken. I am a bit ashamed at how I let myself go. Even though my porcelin complexion is tainted with a zit the size of Texas from the "mosturizer" the use post wax. I think its Crisco, because it does nothing but clog 'em up.

loving my mustache,
c