I looked in the mirror yesterday and I spotted quite possibly the world’s longest eyebrow hair. It was over an inch long. My first instinct was to pluck it, so I wound the end of it around my finger and prepared to yank it out… yeah it was long enough to actually wind it around my finger. I squinted a little bit, I braced myself, but I couldn’t bring do it.
It’s not like I’m not gonna grow another one. I trim my eyebrows every week. It’s like a healthy forest – you gotta have a controlled burn every so often. I think THAT’s why I was so impressed by this massive eyebrow hair. Despite routine clear cutting, I still managed to harvest this huge thick luscious brow hair. You could cut this thing in half and count the rings. This had to be old growth — it was like the tree of souls in Avatar.
I stood there for a minute trying to dissect just why it was I couldn’t bring myself to pluck this world record eye brow hair. I certainly wasn’t afraid of the pain. I did want it gone. That’s when it occurred to me that I was proud-barrassed of it. Both proud and embarrassed at the same time. I had to show somebody. It was a matter of public record.
I’d hate to think of trying to show it to someone after the fact, cause they would never believe it was an eyebrow. They’d think I plucked a bristle off a paintbrush or something and I was working on the world’s lamest practical joke. So I did. I had a little exhibition of my friend, after which I managed to yank it out and felt better. My question for you: what are YOU proud-barrassed of?