I'm going to let you in on a little secret...as long as you promise not to tell!
My girlfriends will probably hate me for telling you this. But when a girl approaches 30, she starts to do weird things....and I finally did what all my other friends have done.
I was at the salon the other day, getting my eyebrows waxed, and this has come to be one of my most favorite mental uplifts. So, as the cosmetologist was waxing, plucking, and shaping them into two distinct brows instead of the singular giant one I was born with, I decided to go out on a limb.
I asked her the question I had long been avoiding. "Does my upper lip need it?"
A pair of gay guys were beside me washing hair, giggling at me as she responded, "Well, I think so, but then, I'm used to noticing stuff like that."
And so, like the Queen of Hearts declared in Alice in Wonderland, it was "Off with her head!" time. And, truly, it felt like my head was indeed being ripped off when she did it.
The little hairs above my lip were blonde and soft and barely noticeable, I think, but I was ready to let them go. And yet these gentle little companions of mine were anything but gentle when they made their exit. I think I actually heard them scream when they were pulled away from me.
I walked out of the salon looking like a clown, my lips looking huge because the area above them was just as red. In fact, I felt so humiliated that I escaped the mall as quickly as I could by finding the nearest exit and then walking the perimeter of the mall to my car.
Will it be another 29 years before I have to wax my upper lip again? I certainly hope so...