No Offense to Cholas/Chongas Anywhere

So yeah, I had an eyebrow accident earlier today. I've always had thick eyebrows, but have been happy with the arch in them so I've never done anything too drastic...I usually stick with waxing them a bit (due to the fact that I feel that plucking should be labeled under cruel and unusual torture due to the sheer nature and snail speed of it) but lately just haven't felt like dealing with the whole local salon scene* of six inch heels, bulimia, and  cattiness and my eyebrows have suffered because of it.

Earlier in the week I decided that pain aside, I had to do something about the crazy bushes growing above my eyes and resigned myself to squinting into a mirror holding the torture device and ouch ouch ouching my way into trying to get rid of my growing unibrow. Needless to say, I quickly abandoned this plan. I'm far from considering myself *ahem* a pussy, but there is just something about slowly pulling hair out by the root and only actually removing it half the time that just makes me shy away from the whole thing. 

Before hopping into the shower this afternoon I caught a glance of myself in the steamed up mirror. I wasn't  at the Frieda Kahlo point of no return, but I was pretty damn close. The tweezers seemed to mock me with their self righteous gleam from their lair next to the sink. Instead of giving in, I had the bright idea to shave the errant hairs from my eyebrows. Yes, I kid you not, I just wrote shave. 

Seconds into this ill-fated procedure I not only put a nick into the skin next to my left eyebrow but I managed to take three quarters of my left eyebrow off. Blinking back the blood, hot water from the shower, my pride, and dare I say it, tears- I stared at myself in the shower mirror, dumbfounded. Now, the rational response to this happening would probably be to PUT THE RAZOR DOWN and hope that you can fill in the mistake with eyebrow pencil. 

My lovely readers, I've never said that I'm rational. Instead, I decided to shave off my flipping eyebrows. The gash in my face is still bleeding and I'm still crying as I get out of the shower and get dressed. I avoid making eye contact with the main bathroom mirror out of sheer horror until Ruff wanderers over, drops his ball on my foot and  licks my hand because he is no doubt trying to figure out why his human is both crying and bleeding at the same time and wondering why his human now looks like some sort of fetus/alien hybrid. Yeah, it looked that bad.

Not to be beaten by a silly thing like eyebrows, I grabbed my eyebrow pencil and began to draw them...As I began doing this I couldn't stop thinking that I was going to end up looking like a Chonga (for those of you on the west coast, think Chola). I haven't gotten a response from Paul yet due to the fact that he's not home yet but I took some pics. Please try to stifle your laughter.

(A before picture)

(Now)

*of course, not all salons have workers like this, but most down here do.

Evil Mix Cds

I've always had the problem of over identifying with music. Different songs remind me of different people, situations, or times in my life...this can be a blessing mixed with a curse. 

Recently I've become more wary of placing my Ipod on random and forget old mix cds, they are the worst. I've been encountering the mix cd issue every-time my new ipod runs out of juice due to the fact that it won't charge in my car. I can either sit in silence, listen to the god-aweful radio or pop in one of the many unlabeled or ambiguously labeled cds that live in the side pocket of my door. The radio is a definite and resounding 'no'....so mystery cd it is. 

Suddenly my car is filled with My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult talking about Lucifer and his drug problem. I flash back to highschool and getting ready to go out. Not a bad memory in itself, until I continue that thought process and remember what happened when I actually reached my destination that night. I hurriedly click the next button as I brake my car at a red light. Synthesizers that vaguely remind me of whales screaming through the dark ocean envelop me as the light turns green. The singer from Switchblade Symphony starts to croon about how Wicked she has been. I can feel my mouth twist into a frown because I know the rest of this cd will just get worse. I pop it out and throw it back into the door pocket to be with it's malevolent CD brothers and sisters. I'm greeted with the abstract noise of my cars tires skimming over the road, and even though the music has ended, the damage is done- my thoughts are on my history, of a friendship turned sour and violent. 

Well, shit. I WAS having a good day. 

On a different, but similar note- I'm taking Ruff over to the dog park in a little bit. I'm taking my camera (so I may post later) and I'm going to make sure my ipod is FULLY charged before leaving. 

Duck and Cover!

The other day while wandering around Best Buy I noticed the Special Addition of Fall Out 3. Paul is a big fan of the fallout series of games, especially Tactics (which he will defend loudly when anyone brings up the fact that the creators don't consider it cannon for whatever reason). It was sitting on the shelf in it's collector lunch box touting all its neat collector type stuff so I decided I'd pick it up for him as a surprise.

Yeah, so 70 bucks and a few days later, he installed it and started playing. He hates it. Ok, maybe hate is the wrong word....lets try... abhors it? Yeah, that sounds about right. Absolutely ABHORS it. He didn't even play through the first area without putting down the keyboard and mouse (yeah btw, we got a new Sony LCD 46 inch tv for the front room which we have hooked up to one of the computers) and walked out of the room to go build houses on the sims 2.

It's too bad that Paul doesn't like it, but as of yet, I've been playing for a few hours now and I REALLY like it. I feel it has a really good amount of balance between BSU and interaction with NPCs- the graphics are good and as of yet I'm having a lot of fun. The customization of my chars skills and such have been neat. I saw on a forum someone saying something about how the Fallout games aren't for girls and that girls just don't like them. I feel like yelling Nee-ner Nee-ner and pulling a stupid face at them at the moment, because, well, I like it!