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.