How eyebrows can define your face?

So, as some may know, recently I have been in hot pursuit of regrowing my eyebrows. Why? Last October I made the decision to "attempt" to save money in numerous aspects of my life. One of the biggest arena's was in beauty supplies. I decided to use all those random, half empty bottles of Shampoo, Body Wash, Lotion, all hair products, make up, and basically all that other crap that causes 98% of all females bathrooms to be come a cluster of fruity goodness that we have grown tired of. It is now March and I have not purchased body wash in close to 8 months (this is also thanks to receiving about 5 bottles for Christmas) So, when I decided this I also made the decision to "attempt" to pluck my own eyebrows rather than pay the completely asinine $10 a months to let the Chinese lady wax them while, also, asking/attempting to wax my non-existent lip hair ... aka...mustache as well. Obvi, I decline. By the way, if there is a mustache, an no one has informed me, all of our friendships are over.
So, here I am, in my bathroom, tweezers in hand ready to begin the process of tweezing and shaping a rapidly growing uni-brow. While I have always been able to do the standard week to week clean up, being in charge of my own prettiness was never a forte. I pay people for that, it took this defining moment for me to realize I will continue to pay for that.
Actually, I should have never embarked on this adventure anyway, especially after living the bad haircut hell for 3 months. See this one time, after having my haircut by a new hairstylist, I was not a fan of my bangs. You know where this is going; of course I decided that because I had watched hairstylist go snip, snip for years, I too could go snip, snip. WRONG! I snip, snipped side swooping pangs to the exact same length straight across my forehead. I screamed as soon as I made the cut, I immediately knew a baseball cap was about to be my best friend. The next day I went to the hairstylist begging, pleading, practically crawling on my knees and only receiving a laugh in return because there was nothing she could do for this catastrophe except say "It will grow back!" Did I learn my lesson from this? Of courssssee not!
So back to the eyebrows, here I am, sitting in my sink, knees to my chest with mouth wide open ( I have a tendency of making the OH! face when focusing) so I can capture as much light from the bathroom mirror as to not miss anything. I am being as delicate as possible, trying not to rush because one wrong pluck, much like my bangs, can make a grown woman cry in complete dismay.
Then, as if Edward Scissorhand's had over come me, I made that one, ill-fated, wrong pluck and "accidentally" grabbed an entire section of tiny hairs and pulled; next thing I knew....my eyebrow's were two different lengths and I was sitting in a sink contemplating crying a river. I immediately stopped, went to the bitchy Chinese lady who talked about me in some Ching Chong that I didn't understand, possibly calling me a silly white girl for trying to do my own eyebrows. (I still love the little Chinese lady, but in this moment I was not a happy person). She, much like the hairstylist, attempted to play damage control, but they were to far gone. Accidentally shaving off an entire eyebrow, would have been the only thing worse.
I tried to grow them out for months, but I would get too frustrated by how horrifying they looked with all the little random hairs all over the place and would get the wax and pray that China didn't comment on them. She did, she said I needed to grown them out, I never listened, I just went to new salons and blamed the lack of symmetry on the previous person. Actually, I never blatantly stated that this was all my fault, just never said it wasn't another person's either. The worst part, thanks to my red hair and that no cosmetic supplier makes strawberry blonde/red eyebrow pencils, I could not even draw them in without it being blatantly obvious.
With all this being said, for future reference, It takes roughly a month for completely botched eyebrows to grown back in... and I am getting them waxed back to perfection this weekend!!!

Exploitations of a skanky girl...

Ok, so I may not be skanky. Scandalous may better suffice. Ok, so maybe not scandalous, I do have a reputation to uphold here.Well, that is, if there is still a reputation to uphold. I think there are few Saturday nights that could have ruined my reputation or created an entire new one. I'm not so sure, they were a bit hazy. None involve the stereotypical going home with a person I don't know, but most involve waking up with a phone number I'm unsure of, some have involved meeting a new guy when I'm out with another, and once or twice may involved dancing on a bar. But in terms of reputation, really why should I base my sole existence around some nonsense others think about me. Wouldn't we all be a little bit more free if we were not trying to maintain a reputation. Personal opinion, I don't think you really begin to live until you remove the bars that are surrounding your existence. Why do you think the skanks of the world can thrive in a celebrated fashion?
So here's what I say.....Live on skanks... live on the white trash, trailer park hood rats. I will be forever indebted to your cut off jorts, Pall Mall smoking, Natural light drinking, baby on your hip, K-Mart feet, chewing Big Red, with Johnston County hair (sincere apologies if that offended you, but it is a cross between the Kate Gosselin and the mullet), and rouge lipstick. You have perfected the art of embracing your skank-tastic reputation of looking dirty and cheap while flaunting your Tweetie bird tattoo and tramp stamp to a man that has no desire to even give you a quarter to call a person who cares. You find your self fascinating to everyone, when really it is only Bubba down the street with the beer belly and one tooth. And think about, what is the perfect vacation for the skank...a trip to Graceland wearing Jorts with their Camera and Pall Malls in an acid wash fanny pack.