Eyebrow, You Brow, We All Brow

When I hinted last week at my need to share about my eyebrows, I was pleasantly surprised by how many of you were eager to discuss. (Nicole, I actually belly laughed at your comment) So, I figured that was all I needed to actually write the post.

Let’s Start with My Eyebrow Horror Story.

Picture this: Suz’s first day of 10th grade. I’m about 4’10 and I weigh no more than 80lbs. Awkward turtle with zero wardrobe compared to my peers. My brother Mark tells me as I’m getting ready that I need to clean up my unibrow. (I didn’t have a unibrow, but there were some stray hairs) He handed me a disposable razor and said: Here, use this to clean it up.

I took one swipe down the not.so.middle of my brows which took out the stray hairs and a good portion of my right eyebrow.

IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME.

What a way to start my not.gonna.be.awkward.this.year at school. My friends with straight brothers had no idea the fun I went through with him giving me terrible perms and bad eyebrow advise. I wish there was photographic evidence because I was something to behold for the first few weeks of my sophomore year; I did not have school pics that year.

EVIDENCE OF EYEBROWS A FEW YEARS AFTER RAZOR-GATE

My glamour shot photo from Beauty School. Can you even see my eyebrows with all that eyeshadow? No.you.can’t.

Through the years I did light plucking to keep my brows at bay without making any real damage. I did a lot of careless things as a young woman, but thank goodness I never over-plucked. For a time in my 30’s/40’s I would get my brows waxed just to keep them clean. When I was coming up on fifty I realized that waxing was overkill because my brows didn’t grow that much and all they required was light plucking on my part; no razors thank you very much.

It was shortly after turning fifty when I noticed in photos, I appeared to have little to NO brows. But when I looked in the mirror, it seemed like they were there, as they have always been. But obviously they, unlike my thighs and demeanor were thinning and getting lighter.

I would use tinted gels if we were going out for a special occasion and there would be photographic evidence. I’ve also been taking hair/nail vitamins for quite a while without much fanfare. Recently I invested in Revitalash. I honestly can’t say anything good or bad because I took my NEXT STEP before really giving that a chance.

Taking The Microblading Plunge

I’d been contemplating having Microblading for over a year, and the nail in the eyebrow coffin was when I saw my bestie Kelly a few months ago and she had this done without conferring with me. She lives on the East Coast, so occasionally she does things without letting me know, but still…

Her brows looked great. I did some research and found someone in my area who has been doing it a long time and had over 500 great reviews.

I made my appointment for Microblading and mentally prepared myself for this because the title of this procedure has BLADE in it. Did you notice that part?

Really though, my blade lady numbed the area and I felt nothing. Zilch. Zero pain. She drew the outline of my soon-to-be brows after measuring my crooked ass face. Woo. It looked like a LOT was going to be filled in, but I suppose when I didn’t have much to start with anything looked like a lot.

She made tiny little cuts along the drawn out areas and filled them in with ink. I was told to not have any caffeine, wine, vitamins, etc prior to this; you know, anything good that thinned out my blood. She was actually having a hard time filling in my left brow more than my right and she said that was common; that is the side where our heart is and there is more blood flow. And we all know how EXTRA LARGE my heart is. ♥️

She told me when all is said and done to not get them wet for 3-5 days. Me: Is it three? or is it five? I went with five. Which meant I couldn’t sweat, which meant I couldn’t work-out or walk to the mailbox because each of those activities involve me sweating.

Just before my procedure and right after. I hope you know how much I despise taking photos of myself, especially sans makeup; I did this for you.

What I didn’t fully understand prior was that you go through a few ugly phases while healing and you don’t get the full color/look until six weeks later when you have a touch up appointment.

Photo borrowed from here.

The first few days I couldn’t pass a mirror without surprising myself. They seemed SO dark, so BIG, so Groucho Marx. Even the Coach kept staring at them…he said he wasn’t, but I know he was.

Do you ever watch The Walking Dead? You know, with all the zombies. Sometimes they’ll be walking around willy nilly and a body part (fingers, leg, arm) just falls off, but they keep going. Well, there were a few days where I would walk by the mirror, take a glance and see part of my brow just hanging there, willy nilly. For real. They were scabbing up and falling off. It was SO hard to not just rip off the dangling bits, but I didn’t want to ruin all that I’d gone through. Within 12 days, they looked pretty normal and I’d gotten used to them. Although, the left one does need more fill-in than the right one; I have an appointment in October to have them touched up.

The procedure is supposed to last 12-24 months depending on your skin type, how much you sweat, etc…so I’m guessing mine will last 4 months. KIDDING, I’d better get two years out of these brows. I was in her chair for just over two hours, but part of that was us talking about it and the numbing part. Overall it was an easy procedure and depending on how long it lasts, I’d probably do it again.

My hair also got a little attention between the ‘just after and 20 days’. After my upcoming touch up, I believe my brows will be a little bit darker, but not by much.

I never in my life imagined that I would give my eyebrows a second thought. What a time to be alive.

Do you think I’m crazy? Don’t answer that.

Have you been microbladed? Were you taught to over-pluck your eyebrows and are now eyebrow bald?

XOXO

Speaking Of Labor Day, What Was Your First Job?

Happy Labor Day. For my Canadian friends: Happy Labour Day!

Let’s talk about earning money.

DISHWASHER

My Mom was a waitress for a good part of her life and when I was eleven/twelve we moved from FL to GA. Bev had a hard time finding a job and ended up waitressing at The Waffle House while looking for something better; she was with Waffle House for sixteen years as a waitress/manager. I think she just gave up and settled down there. When I was twelve I worked as a Dishwasher there. I wasn’t officially employed, but the waitresses would give me a couple of dollars and then feed me something scattered, smothered and covered. If you know, you know.

Beverly and look who’s photobombing? That’s my brother Mark; she convinced him to work there for a while.

AVON

When I was Thirteen I sold Avon. Which is kind of a lie because I purchased more than I sold; THE MAKEUP!

BASKIN ROBBINS

I Scooped ice cream at Baskin Robbins and earned $2.50 an hour in 1981 at fourteen years old. The owners of the shop were HORRIBLE people. Mean. Cheap. Horrible. And I’m here to tell you that scooping ice cream is more challenging than it appears. This wasn’t soft serve; that’s for sissies. I looked it up and the minimum wage at that time was $3.35. Do you think I can get back pay?

PONDEGROSA & MARSHALLS

I was in 10th grade and I’d moved back to Florida and was now living with my Dad. I needed a job because Phil didn’t care to share his income with me and this girl needed some fashion. I was a waitress/runner at Ponderosa Steakhouse; do you remember that place? It was buffet style dining. I worked my biscuits off; some weekends found me working double 8 hour shifts and when summer came I took a position at Marshalls that was in the same plaza and worked both jobs; some days I would walk from one to the other and change clothes. I ended up working at Ponderosa for about 2 years and stayed at Marshalls for about 3 years. I can’t remember why I ever left Marshalls because my butt sure as heck visits the one in my town at least once three times a month and I could use a discount!

SCAB WHAT?

After High School I attended Cosmetology College and the most interesting job I had happened while I was in beauty school. My friend Tanya’s Mom was a supervisor/manager for the Phone Company (Bell South? AT & T?)and there was a time when all the Operators went on strike. Tanya’s mom convinced us to go through the training and work as Operators until the strike was over. Ya’ll I was young and didn’t realize what was happening until Tanya and I arrived at the location and there were picketers all over the place and they were hollering SCABS!! at us as we drove into the parking lot.

I didn’t have a clue in what we were getting ourselves into. But hey, it paid well; I think $15 an hour. It was NOT an easy job. Was 911 a thing in Florida yet? I’m not sure, but I got a lot of emergency calls and some of them I can not get out of my head all these years later.


My first job as a hairstylist. I wonder if that lady tipped well? Fun fact: I still have that belt and I purchased it at Marshalls with my discount.

What was your first and/or most unusual job?

Let’s Talk About Our First Record Purchased.

A few weeks ago while driving this song came on and I remembered that This was the very first 45 that I’d purchased for myself; my Brother and I rode our bikes to the mall and the single was purchased in Spec’s music. I was eleven years old and I believe it set me back about .95 cents.

Is that an appropriate record for an eleven year old? Not even a little.

This was NOT my first 45 though; It was the first one I paid for. You see, I had an inside to free music and I’m not talking about The Columbia House Records where you got 49 records for a penny.

My Mom was a waitress at a local restaurant and they had a Juke Box. When the 45’s were swapped out for newer songs, Bev brought home the old 45’s and I thought I was The Shit with my amazing collection of 45’s. Not only did I know the A side of each one, I also knew the B side and I believe that right there made me extra cool. In hindsight, it makes me wonder what Bev did to earn those records…*hmmmm*

I had a decent little record player and when friends would come over to visit I would make them listen to both sides of my records. I know that sounds bossy because it was.

Anyhoo, I loved music back then, just as much as I do now. I wonder if I still have my first Purchased 45.

*runs to upper cabinet where old records are stored*

Snap. I don’t have the Exile 45, but I do have a few others.

Randy Newman, Steve Martin, Rod Stewart, Melanie, Meatloaf, Lipps, inc.

I wrote my name on almost everything I owned back in the day…I needed a label maker before they were invented.

THIS was one of my favorite songs and I can’t help but sing along still to this day.

some people say I’ve done all right for a girl…😳

BTW I fell down a rabbit hole while looking up Melanie and her Brand New Key song. She wrote that after eating her first meal coming off of a 27 day fasting. This song has absolutely no innuendo; It literally is about rollerskating.

Anyhoo, I’ll be mostly MIA this week as we have our Big Charity Event this weekend and we’ve got a not.so.healthy.dog that I’m hoping to get some resolve on this week. Please send good mojo in Lillie’s direction.

Do you remember either of those songs? Do you remember your first record that you bought?

XOXO

We’re Talking Lizards Again; This Time That Divine One From My Past. AKA: My Jesus Lizard

*I originally shared this post many moons ago, (2010) but I felt that since I just shared my dilemma regarding Anatoli Anole this week, you should know that I don’t loathe all lizards* (thanks Nance for naming the Azzhole)


As a kid, you could find me playing outside all the time; if I weren’t creating shenanigans with the neighborhood kids, I was creating my own adventures. 

I spent hours and hours in our yard unattended or roaming the neighborhood, also unattended.

I loved catching bugs and stray cats, bunnies critters, but catching lizards, well catching lizards was my jam. 

I was proficient at capturing without harming and I loved them so much. I was the self proclaimed lizard whisperer.  

When I was about seven I found this beautiful bright green lizard. He was a gorgeous specimen! 

I believe it was love at first sight for both of us.

He was so docile as he crawled up and down my arms and he loved sitting on my shoulder, like a Parrot lizard. 

He was my constant companion for A Full Day. 

*CUE THE SUZ AND LIZARD FUN MONTAGE*

I had visions of our life together: playing games, reading books, traveling the world.

I found a jar and made him a home and we had our first sleepover; it was epic. 

The next day, I thought it would be a great idea to take him to school with me because surely, he would get lonely at home all alone. (Was I wearing homemade pantyhose? Probably.)

Being the girly tomboy that I was, I put him in my purse and headed for school.

I only shared my new lizard with a few friends that day as I did not want to risk getting into trouble. I’d already hit my quota for classroom spankings. 

Sadly, later that evening, I realized that my lizard had perished. I was beyond crushed because all our hopes and dreams for the future were just as dead as he was.

Maybe it was the the long commute on the school bus that did him in? Maybe living in my purse wasn’t the right environment? Perhaps a diet of grass wasn’t enough? 

Devastated, I buried him in the yard and performed The Eulogy that he clearly deserved.

A few days later I went to pay homage to my now deceased friend and WHAT IIN THE ACTUAL HELL? 

He.Was.Gone.

The burial site was wide open and my lizard had risen from the dead! 

Like Jesus.  

It was a miracle of epic proportions! He lives! He lives! He lives! 

I was elated and for days I looked all over for him, but sadly we were never reunited.

I never forgot our time together though, he was my favorite lizard and could never be replaced. 

 In hindsight, maybe he was not so much ‘Jesus like’ as much as my cats were excellent excavators.

Scan_Pic0018%20(3)

XOXO

Your friend Suz, the critter hoarding hawt mess in the making.