There is an ever occurring phenomenon that can no longer go on unpublicized and ignored. Bigfoot, The Northern Lights, Stonehenge...all of these have been explored, theorized and documented throughout time. Forgive me "Scientists" but the study of a large man covered in fur running amok through the wilderness is played out. Besides, I sleep with one next the me every night....the mystery is gone....
Lets try to focus our funds and research on more important things...
Sunday evening was winding down like it usually does, although particularly hot and stuffy, I still had to maintain my weekend rituals. I forewent laundry, forget that ish it was too damn hot, but I'll be damned if I will start my week with a unibrow that could potentially take over my hair line. I decided to unwind and cool down before bed and figured I would de-hair in a relaxing cool bubble bath.
I retrieved my "supplies" and settled into my own little reverie. After about 10 or so minutes of enjoying the silence (and being able to have the bathroom door latch without my cringing and counting down to the inevitable small fists starting to pound on the door because I have disappeared, possibly never to return again, causing an immediate search party because they seem to think my life is uber exciting and they have to know what I am doing 24/7 for fear they will miss out on some fascinating aspect of my life. I, for one, understand as I am most definitely my most alluring when I am suffering from dairy consumption and 'facinating' non-stop for the rest of the night leading to a drop in pant size) decide I should get to gettin'.
I snag my little hand held mirror and best pair of tweezers and set to work. Bringing the mirror close for a minute...then far...then to one side...and then the other...checking to make sure all offending hairs are annihilated. When completely satisfied I hold the mirror out to admire my masterpiece. But hello, whats this? Obviously I have a strand of hair that has escaped from the elastic band on top of my head and is stuck to the side of my face. I reach up to brush it away but my face is wet as are my fingers from the bath so it seems to be offering some resistance. Finally I utilize the tweezers I have at close reach only to find to my complete and utter horror...its attached.
WTF?! How is this possible?! This thing is like two inches long! Are you telling me I have been walking around with a hair growing out of my face at what must be a record breaking pace and no one has noticed?! Much less myself?! There is no way it did not catch some beam of light and glisten enough to call attention to itself. Did it just appear at that length over night? You would feel something like that, wouldn't you? I...just...don't...understand...
I am taken aback as I examine the offending follicle and go over possibilities in my head. Is it like the booger/something in your teeth theory? You see someone has it but would be embarrassed to tell them and even more afraid of them being embarrassed yet you continue to stare? Would I tell someone and how would that conversation go?
"Oh, hang on you have a little hair on your face....no the other way...down...down....here, just let me get it for yo...oh....oh my...ummm...yeeeeaaaah...." **clears throat and glances around uncomfortably**
So, I present my case. Leave Loch Ness alone and I am sure the mating rituals of South African fruit flies can wait another season. We need to pool our resources and get to the bottom of this before someone else is scared and confused. If I have helped one person by coming forward with my traumatic experience, I will feel like my embarrassment has not been in vain...I will be holding a support group Wednesday nights at Pizza Hut so we can eat our feelings together.
I feel a little like Sally Struthers or Sara McLaughlin promoting a cause. Just need some sad music, cute dogs and dirty kids....I really should have been in PR.
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