scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

16.4.05

what would dooce do?

grrrrr.

well, let's get it all over with. i lie to my mother.

what do i lie about?

she said, Liz, do you pluck your eyebrows?

and i said, No.

My answer is not going to change, ever.

Even if she finds the tweezers next time she visits.

Hungarian eyebrows are like Brooke Shields on amphetamines - it was Brooke Shields, right? maybe? - all over the place, growing and sprawling and huge, taking over entire faces. Mine are not going to be that way, not ever. It would make me look like a homeless person. Does my face trump my heritage? Hell yes, it does. Am i ever going to tell her? No. And the next time she brings it up? (Because she knows. Even if i didn't suspect she comes here, she knows, because hungarian eyebrows are dominant, and my eyebrows are normal and my brother's are insane) I'm going to lie. Again. No, they look like this anyway, Mom. Honest. If my brother asked what was up with his eyebrows, now, i might tell him to get a regular wax and a trim, at least before job interviews. Not that i'd bring it up.

Since this is my blog, it has things that make sense in my head, and not things that are required to make sense in anyone else's head. It doesn't include things that make other people pissy or stressed or anything else. it is mine. It is not here for any of you. If my readership goes down because i consider this mine and am selfish about it, so.be.it. There will never be a guest blogger, not ever. And unavoidably, someday, sooner or later, someday i will say something bitchy about you (if you build it, they will come + if i build it, i will say bitchy things because that is what a nonprofessional blog is entirely for = if they come, they will see them). this is mine. it is my space to figure out how my head works because it is cheaper than therapy and writing is good. i am letting you read it because maybe i'm not a psych major, but ...oh, hell. i don't know why i'm letting you read it.

Remember this is their outlet. They may not want you to read certain things they might write about you or others you care about, in order to spare your feelings, avoid drama or maintain their privacy.

Labels: health

scrawled @ 21:01