Monday, April 03, 2006

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear . . .

I do not consider myself a high-maintenance person in terms of make-up, hair, or even clothes. I have always worn make-up, trying to keep it at a minimum because as Hassan says "You don't want to look like an Easter egg." I think if a person takes care of themself, it will show in their face. In terms of hair, I'm a horse of a different breed. I've permed, colored, and now have natural streaks of silver in my hair. All I can think of when I look in the mirror is the Eagles song "Oooh, ooh witchy woman, see how high she flies..." although I've been told by friends that it's actually the contrary. I suppose we are our own worst critics, indeed.

It is well-known that the ancient Egyptians used to remove unwanted hair by using sugar. Oh, we have all been victims of Nads, haven't we? It is a commercialized product that is supposed to remove hair like the famous sugar concoctions of ancient Egyptians, but Lainie and I found out the hard way that it is extremely painful.

Maybe it's because my face is exposed to the sun all the time that it has a natural glow to it; I'm not sure. In any event, as my face glows, the little fuzzies glisten blonde. Oh, did I say fuzzies?

I recently went through my second "stringing" at the beauty salon. Yes, the lady gets a very long piece of string, puts it through her teeth, twists it (imagine 'cat in the cradle' with yarn with half of it in her mouth) and then rolls it over the face removing all the little fuzzies. I never realized how many fuzzies were on my face until I experienced the pain first-hand.

It wasn't too bad along the cheeks (does fuzz actually grow there?), but when it came to the forehead, goodness gracious, I pictured myself as a wolf-woman. Let me say one thing: if you're going for a stringing, prepare yourself for the upper lip. The first time made my eyes water, and the second time, I was gritting my teeth in pain trying to be strong but cringing inside. The most satisfying part of the whole experience was having my eyebrows shaped. Finally, someone can do something with my eyebrows. It can't get any worse than when I shaved my eyebrows in the 8th grade.

After it was all done, my face was red but glowing, of course.

Whenever I return to work after my stringing, people say "you look different" but don't actually know what I did. This past time, a friend of mine at work said "Your face is gamila -- very beautiful." I said "Thanks, I'll let her know."

I am supposed to go to the beauty salon once a month for my stringing. I have to remember the end result is worth the pain.

Oh, the price we pay for beauty.

Ma'salaam,

Marian

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