Thursday, June 10, 2010
I can’t believe I do it. My Mother would be horrified. Yet, I am a woman of a certain age and don’t care so much what the committee of “They” thinks, says or sees: I groom errant hair when the light is good, whether I am in public or not.
The lighting in my bathroom is awful and better served by the scissors that I have stashed in the vanity. I think these scissors came from a sewing kit owned by my Grandma Pansy (yes, Pansy). These are the sharpest tiny scissors I have ever used. Some people wax; I mow the downy carpet on my chin and cheeks with Pansy scissors.
Finding good light sometimes just happens. I find some of the best in the bathroom at work . . . the overhead light seems to highlight the thicker hairs on my upper lip; so I use the tweezers in my purse. I always listen for footsteps down the hall and have narrowly skirted discovery mid-pluck on numerous occasions. Some days this is as close as I get to excitement in my middle age.
Speaking of skirts, the other day I was reaching into my car to extract my lunch box before heading into work for the day and felt those tickly hairs around my bare ankle catch a breeze! As luck would have it, my gym bag with the dull razor was also stashed in the car. I peered down and, oh my!, I must have missed those miscreants for at least a month. Yes, I looked both ways as if crossing the street, which, in a way I was (to the dark side), and did a dry shave. Much better.
Occasionally, I am surprised at how good the light will be in an unexpected place and time; out come the traveling tweezers. The most recent intersection of place and time was at a traffic light on Fifth Avenue and Arlington while driving home. The West-setting sun highlighted those bad boys perfectly. Mind you; I don’t text while I drive, but I do pluck. I mean I have to! Once you loose sight of that deviating hair, you may not find it for a month or more! By then it has become a log that even my Auntie could see . . . but apparently I cannot; not with the now omnipresent bifocals that only help with something directly in front of me.
Which reminds me . . . where are my friends who see me every day? If you are my friend, you should tell me, or better yet, just reach over with your own pair of traveling tweezers and pluck.