When you're doing all this cancering, most other things get set aside(you should see my desk-it looks like a landslide about to happen) and that includes fun things.
If you recall and even if you don't, my Mom's advice in the last year of her existence upon this planet were the following: Keep having fun.
I've been feelin' way out of balance in a sort of a 'who am I now and how did I get here' way. Anybody else? I used to do things that didn't involve having a needle shoved in my arm(Didn't I?) and be a little more risky in the department of fun. Okay a lot more risky. Maybe that's something post-cancer that has to grow back. Your groove.
I work one job with a whole buncha 20 year olds who commonly use the phrase "I'm gonna quit" and in my heart I'm going....oh my God how bad do I want to regain the ability of feeling like I can ever do that again.
I also had the gift of somebody looking at me like I was crazy and that came from my co-worker Karen. She has cosmetic knowledge far beyond my scope and I remember I was saying how I bought all this stuff from this one line and she looked at me and I was like....uhhhwhut? Long story short she delivered the gift of reminding me that all of this is supposed to be fun.
Thank goodness for that.
Anyway. One of the casualties of-I think-the thyroid cancer and subsequent removal is that my eyebrows stopped growing. I mean like, full stop.
And that is very weird for me because ever since I met the glorious Jeanne Finneran in NYC, the one thing I always kept after was the maintenance of my brows. I mean no gigantic deal here-I'd go to the nail salon and get waxed or maybe I'd find a threader and yes(!)I realize that most of you do your own and that's fine for you but you're not me, okay, okay, okay, okay?
So here's the before:
Got a couple of Andy Rooney's going on but
ya know, just generally scraggly.
I made a 10:00 appointment at Anastasia at
Nordstroms in Oak Brook and the store opens at 10:00, so I got to go stare at my brows in the most important brow staring place.
That is correct. The rear view mirror.
I bet there's a connection with the increase of women drivers and the existence of brow maintainers.
It's not always easy to get an appointment at Anastasia. I've attempted to walk-in a couple of times and they're always like, sure we have an opening for Thursday. Next Thursday. So I finally wised-up and called ahead.
True confessions: There's a former co-worker of mine and occasionally when I'm thinking about eyebrows(actually not that often except maybe in the rear view mirror) I go to her instagram to gaze upon her impossible crayola'ed eyebrow.
One will look okay-ish but the other one is completely manufactured and I'd be always thinkin' does she think we don't realize that brow two is fake?
Then it was my turn.
So. This is me with one brow filled in according to a stencil. That little beige dot on the inner left?
That's where my brow is supposed to land.
Here I am starting to realize my resemblance to the thespian John Goodman.
Have I said how much fun this experience was? Big fun.
So here I am-all charcoaled in. If the universe was perfect, this is what we'd be working with. Whoa, huh?
This is how many sticks it took me to get waxed. They do not double-dip into their magical wax formula. *This will become important later.
Here's the set up of stuff. Nice and clean.
This is the magical wax. It belongs only to Anastasia.
Now you can see the process. Kinda cool, no?
Here is Sarah. She is-honestly-the loveliest human I've ever met in at a beauty counter-which can be a sort of a intimidating, hostile environment if you're over 50. Or if you're a woman.
If you decide to go, ask for her.
Okay back to the drama.
This is the mirror that you hold because the idea here is that they're teaching you about your brows.
Here Sarah is demonstrating what to do with the products. She draws a nice brow, doesn't she?
This is the stuff she recommended for me. I got two of them. The prices were not that of Beverly Hills-they were doable. I was really surprised.
So here's me at the very end-very much a work in progress but I can honestly say it was very high on the fun/adventure scale and well worth the price.
The price. Well, see for me? Because the brakes have been installed upon my brows? This is completely economical eventho it appears a bit splurgy.
And then the final test, the rear view mirror.
Dramatic twist: The next morning I woke up to an arc of red spots. I called and spoke to someone I'll call NotSarah who told me that it's not them because they don't *double dip(the wax) and it might be because I haven't been waxed in awhile, or that it might be hormones or That Time of the Month. She must mean, the time in which the mortgage must be paid, right? She suggested a little cortisone and then she suggested alcohol(maybe she meant wine) and I decided to just give my face a day off.
So. Here's me. One day later.
With no product and fresh outta bed.
Sarah was also kind enough to write out my instructions. That is SO COOL. I forget everything when I'm having this level of f.u.n.
And heads up/FYI. They're having a Masterclass on March 22nd at 6:00. $25 and you get that back that very day. Check it out, if you're long on Andy Rooneys and short on fun.
Nordstroms Oak Brook 630-571-2121
In other news, my stomach and it's not my stomach-I know that but I don't know what else to call it-has been giving me a little trouble lately. I'm playing around with the possibilities that some food is not agreeing with me or maybe I have to cut back on my one cuppa coffee or I dunno, but anyway, I have this day off today and I decided maybe it'd be a good idea to have a chat with my Primary Care.
I called and uhhhh guess what.
The insurance I thought I had-I do not. And the insurance that would allow me to continue to keep my primary care as my primary care got finished January 31st. So, while I am not currently uninsured which is a Very Good Thing, I have to work the phones today to see if I can get this straightened out.
Do you know what all that nonsense did to my stomach? I felt like someone was playing pool on top of my intestines.
It is a very funny thing. I was having a verbal log jam with someone I know AND my gut was frowning and I said to P, what IS this? (indicating my belly) and he said: Betty Sue.
And I thought yeah. Any kind of emotional drama seems to go straight to my gut now.
Even good things.