Eyebrow Threading

I got my eyebrows threaded yesterday. At first, I wasn't quite sure why I did it, but after an extended analysis, here is my conclusion: curiosity, convenience, and to save 8 dollars.
Eyebrow threading is where the threader (whose eyebrows were atrociously overgrown)uses cotton thread and masterfully and forcefully rips your hair out. The benefit of threading is that it is allegedly more precise and apparently, eyebrow roots go all the way to your brain stem and ripping them out this way slows their regrowth.

Let me recreate the scene.
You've seen people giving massages in the mall, right? Who would want to sit on a chair and have a strange person touch you while others walk by gawking at you. Well, threading is very similar. You sit in a chair made for someone who is 4'9" so your neck is unsupported and you feel like you are about to get beheaded.
Initially, the conversation went like this, "What do you do?" Her English was pretty good. I hesitated to answer because when I go to the salon and they say, "what do you do?" It is usually referring to occupation. Then she said, "you wax?" I was appreciative of her clarification. I said yes closed my eyes, ready to take a little nap. Then the lady said "go like this". She wanted me to cover my own closed eye with one hand and use my other hand to pull my forehead back toward my spine. So here I am in the middle of the mall, flopped on a chair with my elbows up in the air. How attractive.

Since I usually wax my eyebrows, I thought this would be relaxing. WRONG. Apparently, threading is a nice way of saying, "sit in this chair and we will make you feel like we are slitting through all three layers of skin to reveal your skull."

I thought she may've needed some feedback about what I was feeling in case pain was abnormal. My eye was watering, but she couldn't see this since it was blocked by my hands...
So I made a noise of discomfort. It may have sounded moan-like...I am not quite sure.
She didn't respond so I tried contorting my face so she could see my pain. No luck.
I finally resorted to sighing. Well, sort of sighing. It was more like gasping. Still no luck.
When she was finally finished with my public torture session, I paid and thought, "What was I thinking?!" Well, now I know what threading is...and you do too.

Who thought, "Hmmm, let's shove some heated round plastic into our hair and see what it does?"

Today I re-discovered why God has not called me to be a hairdresser...I will get to that in a moment. First, I am going to re-visit some early hair memories:
1. Mom told me I could not go away to camp until I could do my own hair. "Doing my own hair" meant brushing it and putting in into a ponytail. (Just in case anyone was wondering, I was a slow learner...I think I went away to camp in 3rd grade?? Maybe
4th?)
2. Dawn taught me how to do "hair exercises" when I was in 2nd grade. This is where you flip your head upside down and flop your hair from side to side and up and down. It is like singing "Inright, outright, upright, downright" and doing the motions with your hair instead of your hands. Dawn, do you think you could re-enact this and put it on youtube?
3. 4th grade. Bangs. Need I say more?
4. 7th and 8th grade I wore a messy bun every day. Mom about had a coronary.
5. All through high school I attempted to cut my own hair. Bad idea.
6. 12th grade. Christmas day. New curling iron that was too hot = completely singed bangs.
7. On my senior trip my best friend and I got "Hair Painting kits" to highlight our hair. When you use that type of a kit, it is best to use a cap so you don't end up "painting" inconsistently...we didn't use a cap. Can you say SPOTS?
8. I once tried giving Amanda a hair cut right before she left for camp. It was absolutely hideous (can you say "bob in the front, middle of the back in the back"? It was like a morphed mullet. Even mom was horrified. I lied to Amanda and told her it looked awesome. The poor girl had to leave for camp the next morning and I didn't want her to feel insecure the whole time.

It seemed like every Sunday afternoon in high school was spent messing with my hair. I tried using hot rollers several times with no luck. I even had these cool hot pink ones that bent and twisted...those ended up knotted in my hair. Mom always said it would just take practice and I always thought it was my lack of fine motor skills.

Well, today I tried using hot rollers again.
And had more right angles than curls.
I can't blame it on practice. I tried putting the same curler in 19 times. It definitely is a gift or maybe a creative gene that I just do not have.
As for my next hair event, I will be testing Rogaine. I got it free from CVS and could use some hair-replacement therapy due to my recent hot roller escapade.

Frozen

Lately is has been super cold. I know, I know. This is just the beginning, right? Anyway, this morning I got in my car and wondered why I had bird poop all over my back and side window. (Isn't it a little cold for this stuff?) As I look closer, I realize that bird poop would have been nice. Instead it was exploded Mt. Dew. Nice. Way to go, Jen. So I drive (quite erratically...and with the heat OFF so I don't melt the frozen dew) to the nearest working vacuum and Katie and I try to rid my car of the acid. I think we were successful.
I will find out in the spring when WI thaws out.

Twisted

I rarely put my nylons on incorrectly. Afterall, I've been wearing them nearly every of day since seventh grade. Once in a while, however, I put them on upside down (which yields bruise-like marks on the top of my nyloned feet and overall no other difference), or crooked(which pretty much make it feel like I am walking sideways all day. It is neither bad nor good...simply twisted). Well, today I put them on twisted. Since I was already onto my second pair (the first were torn) I decided to just deal with it. I was already behind schedule. I did this fully knowing the ramifications of a "crooked nylon day". It never fails. I just have weird days when my nylons are crooked. Today was no different. Here's the rundown:
1. My brand new necklace broke and beads went everywhere. EVERYWHERE.
2. I hurried and went to the staff meeting today at work. After returning, my co-worker asked if I had a GA meeting. I said, "no, it was a staff meeting." She then replied, "oh! do you mean the faculty meeting?" As I replayed the last hour in my head, it sunk in that I was the only non-faculty member in the room. Wow.
3. As I left for lunch, I fell off the sidewalk and skinned my knee. I was talking on the phone at the time and just played it cool. (I am pretty sure that I walked off the sidewalk because it is nearly impossible to walk in a straight line when the seam of my nylons is severing my femoral artery.)

After skinning my knee, I was forced to dispose of yet another pair of $4 nylons. I then had the unique opportunity to change my nylons mid-day.

The rest of my day was normal.

Dork Advice

Dork DON'T(s):
Don't randomly speak spanish to people. It causes confusion. The other day as I as photographing people for their yearbook headshots I said "hola!" Instead of "hello".
She was hispanic.
She may have thought I was mocking her?
It was totally unintentional.

Don't ask a guy how old he is while you are taking his picture for yearbook.
So my job was to get the person's name and year in school...
Jen asks, "What's your name?" followed by, "and how old are you?" It wouldn't have been bad if he was a freshman and didn't know any better. But he wasn't.

GPS glitch

Navigational systems are amazing. I have a TomTom and love it. LOVE it. One feature tomtom offers is a map-share. If I am driving and notice a road closed for construction or notice a new starbucks, I can add it to my GPS and then sync it on the web for other users to know. Well, I needed to run to Wal-mart after I left Pap's house in order to purchase a phone charger because the genius that I am left mine at home. So, I ask Tom where the closest one is. He has me get off the exit and travel all the way into Morgantown, WV to the West Virgina University campus. After I went up a steep hill and into a condo driveway, Tom said, "you have reached your destination". Very funny. Apparently someone thought it would be funny to lead new freshman or visitors like myself to his or her apartment under the guise of the name "Wal-mart". It added thirty minutes to my driving time, but I had a good laugh and eventually found a store in PA.

malfunctioning synapses in my brain?

SO yesterday i recieved a text from jimmy (my brother) that said, "one of my friends doesnt believe that texting is so easy a retard could do it, so could you text me back so i can prove him wrong?"
When i got this text, i thought. "Hmmmm. the guy thinks jimmy is mentally handicapped and unable to figure out how to text. i need to text him back to prove that jimmy did text me properly!" As i started my reply, however, i realized that jimmy was calling ME the retard. oh the joys of family!

DMV Dork

So last week, i flaunted my dorkiness at the DMV. i went in and walked up to the counter and had the following conversation:

Me: "I need to get a NH driver's license."
DMV guy: "Oh. we just gave out the last one."
Me: "OH MAN! are you serious?"
DMV guy: (asking the other DMV guy) "yeah, when are we getting more of those NH ones in?"
Other DMV guy: "Not until the first of the month."
Me: "for real? well, i guess i will hafta come back."

Now, the sad part is that i wasnt playing along. i seriously thought that i had to wait. sad, huh? after they burst into a fit of laughter, i realized that they were joking, but i must have had D-O-R-K written on my head all day.

Priceless

So today i was talking to mr. midcalf and felt the overwhelming urge to let him know that i blogged about him back in may. if you didnt read that post, you can see it here. anyway, as i was getting ready to tell him about it, he says
"are you talking about your blog?"
hahahaha. very funny. somebody ratted me out. Right then i wanted to crawl under my chair. who told him? when did he read it? as my face got brighter and my chin dropped lower, i just sat there in shock. my brain was telling my mouth to talk, but i couldnt. finally i said, "uhh. yes."
Well, he had already read my blog - and rightfully so. i feel honored that the head of the english department would lower himself to such trivialities as the blogosphere. anyway, the shocker came when mr. midcalf said, "i had to do a double-take when i saw the picture because i thought, "I dont remember posing for that!""
at this point i was emerging from behind the seat cushion. hahahahaha! now, it may've only been for a split second, but mr. midcalf had mistaken Will Farrell's picture for his own. now that my dear audience, is priceless.

Dork of the Day

I am such a dork.
so yesterday aaron was working at a house close to where i work and his crew ran out of water so he called me to see if i could bring them some. no problem. my boss at daycare donated a gallon of water, three plastic cups, and a huge ziploc bag full of ice.
aaron told me what road the house was on and said "you cant miss it, the yard is all torn up - it's all dirt."
so, here i go to this house. i pull up on the side of the road - feeling a little insecure. i get out of my car with the gallon of water, ice, and cups and this middle-aged man walks up to me with a huge smile on his face.
i think to myself "aww! he looks so appreciative!" but i actually say, "um. does. um. does aaron work here?"
he looks at me sorta amused and says, "i dont know no aaron."
"oh...i must have the wrong house." i reply as i pick try to act normal and get back in my car.
"i was wondering why you were bringing us water!!" (poor guy! he looked so disappointed!)

i then go further down the road to a house 4x the size of the one i stopped at and see aaron and the other guys out in the yard. phew. it only took two stops.

yeah. i am a dork. next time, i think i will ask him what house number!