I am going to address something that plagues us all. Facial Hair. Especially after you turn 30. What is the deal? The hair on your head falls out in clumps, your eyebrows and lashes become sparse. But random hairs pop up in other places.
I swear, on my 30th birthday I developed “tuffs” on my upper lip. Not a full mustache. Just tuffs right along the edges. Long enough to twirl and swirl, and say creepy things like, “Excuse me Sonny.” Or just look super creepy like this guy. (Note: That is not me in the picture above. The first one, yes. I just photo shopped the beard. Only the beard.) The lady who waxed my tuffs that year (not so) gently explained to me in her heavy Greek accent…”Once you turn 30, you turn man.” Who says that? I went back to 29 that day.
Then age 31. A random hair on my chin. Just hanging out. Long, thick, black and proud. How did it grow so fast? I swear it was not there yesterday. I looked in the mirror, and Chinhair (yes, he got named) was like…”What’s up? I was wondering when you would notice me–since basically everyone else has already.” When you go to pluck this random chin hair–BEWARE! Mother Nature has prepared a special super glue making it the one of the hardest things in the universe to complete. It’s basically surgery and I now hold a medical license.
Age 32…the kicker. My family and I go to the Lazy 5 Ranch and we drive through, and the ostriches are creepy and eating out of the car. (HINT: pay the few extra bucks to ride the wagon! I am still vacuuming out the food from my car. Actually I’m not. It’s still there. But someone seriously needs to get that stuff out of my car. )
When we are finished with the tour, I pulled down the mirror to see if I had stuff in my teeth, or maybe to apply lip gloss for the 45th time that day. I was super grossed out to see there was a boar hair on my cheek. Yes, a boar hair. It was black and long and thick…like a piece of yarn or twine. I brushed it off, but it didn’t come off. IT DIDN’T COME OFF. It was not a boar hair. Or an ostrich hair. It was my hair. Coming out of my effing cheek.
It was so long and thick, I was able to pull it out without tweezers or anything. (I know this is gross and scary…especially if you are 25 and your butt is still on your back, your pores are still invisible, and your breasts do not resemble socks and rocks) I would like to go on record (since I like to go on record) and say this hair has never come back.
I know you wonder if I am exaggerating. I am not. Here is your visual.
My genius friend, Christine came up with the idea for emergency car tweezers. I thought I was a genius for having emergency car almonds. You know, in case we get stranded. My husband always makes fun of me for this. “What are you going to do? Walk to the service station and hold out your almonds and ask for some gas?” Ha. No babe. I will eat the almonds while I wait for you to come pick me up. Anyway, back to my genius friend. Have you ever looked at your face in the mirror in your car on a sunny day?
Don’t do it. Do it. But first, get some emergency car tweezers. And some almonds too.
See them? Right on top of my emergency hair bow, which is right on top of my emergency gum, which is on top of my emergency post-it notes. Beside that is my emergency almonds. (and an emergency 6-way nail file. You never know what is going to happen people. I could be stranded with a chin hair, needing a ponytail, starving, a broken nail, breath stinking, and of course needing to write a note on a sticky.)
Here is your Hey Girl, since you love me exploiting my husband.