OK, gods of hirsuteness, what gives?
I know it seems like I must never look at myself in the mirror or how would I ever have missed the giant hair growing out of my neck? But I do look in the mirror. Tonight I looked in the mirror at my eye because I had a husband-related injury to my eye earlier this evening. We’re calling it a noggin-caressing incident gone horribly wrong.
While I was checking my eyeball for fingerprints in the mirror, I noticed a loose hair near my tear hole (I believe “tear hole” is the technical term—look it up if you need to). I tried to wipe the hair away with my finger but I couldn’t get it. I grabbed the tweezers and very slowly and carefully moved them toward my eye region. It took a few tries, but I finally grabbed the hair. I gave it a gentle pull, and guess what?
It wouldn’t come off my face. Why not, you ask? Because it was growing out of my face.
Yes, this means I am pretty as a hobgoblin.
I’m still waiting for my regular eyelashes to look like a normal person’s, but I have a lash coming from my tear hole. And when I got a better look with the photo I took, I saw that there are actually TWO hairs growing in that spot. Dark ones, like all lashy-like. Who thinks this is funny? Nobody. Nobody thinks this is funny. Especially me. If I pluck these two hairs, it will hurt like a mofo. If I leave them where they are, I will be a freak of nature.
Since I’m on the subject of hair and other eye-related matters, here’s further analysis of my eye photo:
Oh gods of hirsuteness, you can bite my big white (and probably hairy) arse. I hate you.