“If the Eyes are the Windows to the Soul, Then the Eyebrows are the Draperies of the Damned”


Flashback to my childhood and the building of my discontent–I remember my Grandmother once telling me how very pretty her most beautiful grandchild was–and it wasn’t ME…horrors! I knew that I wasn’t as smart as my brainiac older sister (who, as a side note, wouldn’t know to come in out of the rain) nor as popular and athletic as my younger sis (she could leap her 5000 closest friends in a single bound), so all I had were my looks. So this was a real “dream dashing” moment for me! Hell, I was already dating at the age of 8 and had a nice collection of “promise” rings–and had pledged to love and cherish each and every one of the suitors in my stable forever–so I thought I was on my game and destined for greatness. Shit…


But after hearing the audible “gasp” that escaped my young lungs in this ego-destroying moment, Grandma offered the ultimate consolation prize–she actually said to me “But at least you have great eyebrows and won’t ever have to do anything with them.” WTF? They were EYEBROWS…they were useless and didn’t do anything anyway. I was doomed.


I’m sure this little “life beat down” was responsible for getting in my head years later when I only won second runner up in the Junior Miss Pageant. But I DID win the coveted “Junior Miss Spirit Award” (which is the MOST important award for it is voted on by your peers). This was a “poor man’s” version of Miss Congeniality. Perhaps if I had more going for me than remedial perkiness and great eyebrows, I could have been a contender!


They weren’t offering any trophies in that pageant for “Best Eyebrows That Do Absolutely NOTHING”. Sigh. I am quite certain that some dude has said “Hey, check out that chick’s eyebrows”…like, NEVER!

And it was many years later that life came full circle, for I found myself fighting for my life in a stupid hospital bed…AND, wait for it…HALF MY EYEBROWS FELL OUT! I was a shell of a woman now, fer shizzle. My eyebrows were, after all (according to Grandma) my freakin’ crowning glory and truly, all I had to live for. To date, I have to draw them in to complete them. Now I understand the life lesson that Grandma was trying to impart on me–and that is…


Life is a series of disappointments…all you have is what you were given and even THAT can be taken from you with a couple of chemo treatments. But with a strong will and a little eyebrow pencil, you can straighten that shit out.


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