Monday, January 18, 2016

waxing nostalgic

When I was a newlywed, I went to a local spa to get my eyebrows waxed.  This thing, this eyebrow waxing, was not a new thing in my life.  But the lady doing the waxing was.  And when I asked her to tighten up my eyebrows, she went to work.

About 20 minutes later she was done.

Now, I don't know how familiar you are with the process of waxing eyebrows, but this is no rocket science, folks.  You do the underneath side, rriiippp.  You do the top side, rriiipp.  You do between the brows, rriiipp!  And repeat.  Once you've waxed, it's time to trim the length of the remaining hair.  You use scissors and a small brush.  And then!  You are done.  I know all this because I've been doing them myself at home for about 10 years now.  Easy. Peasy.

I should have grown concerned after 10 minutes.  And then again as the time inched to 15 minutes.  But I was young and naive and was probably laying there thinking, Wow, look at me.  I'm in a spa!  Getting my eyebrows waxed!  I feel like such a lady of leisure!  Aren't I lucky!

But my luck was about to run out.  I had a date with destiny and her name was The Mirror.

When Sweet Newbie Waxer handed me the mirror and sat me up, I fought back tears.  I tried to appear as calm as possible.  I was only 26 and didn't really know how to ask for my eyebrows back.  As if that was a real possibility.

So I waited until I got in the car and I burst into tears.  And I drove myself home where my husband greeted me and started giggling immediately.  WHERE ARE YOUR EYEBROWS? he asked.  I replied with big, fat, hot tears, and he hugged me as he finally figured out the correct husband response.  I'm sorry honey!  They'll grow back!

A few minutes later I was on the phone with my mom.  I had called her for other reasons, but of course, the eyebrows came up when I was walking around and accidentally looked in the mirror as I passed by.

I recounted the whole 20 minute event to my mom who replied with the most inappropriate answer I could fathom at that moment.

THAT BITCH!!  she hissed.

Ummm.  WOAH.  WAIT.  WHAT?

I can't believe she DID THAT TO YOU! she replied, as if this was my mortal enemy I had laid down in front of to trust my eyebrows with and she had double crossed me.

Suddenly every emotion I had of sadness and slight anger flew out the window and I found myself defending this stranger.  MOM!  CALM DOWN!! 

And the rest, as they say, is history.  Through the years, we've looked for hilarious and inappropriate times to yell THAT BITCH in a conversation with my mom.  Because laughter makes the heart stronger.

Sunday, January 3, 2016


We had Christmas in the mountains.  Have you ever been to the mountains for the holidays?  It's dreamy, really.  Magical.  Especially when you wake up on Christmas day and there are BIG FAT SNOWFLAKES falling outside your window.  Yes, you must do it sometime.  Put it on your bucket list.

We've spent many Thanksgiving and Christmases in the Colorado Rockies.  But this year was something special.  Hubby's brother and our nephew came along for most of the trip and there was a lot of laughter and beer.  Indeed, we had a splendid time.  :)

But the best part came Christmas morning.  I was reminded why I love my husband, in spite of the fact that he can drive me crazy.  He bought me a mug.

A mug!  First, you must know that I am a coffee ADDICT and unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), a mug collector as well.  Because one can never have enough cute mugs to choose from when pouring their morning joe.  Can I get an amen??

Anyway, back to the mug.  I'll admit now that I wasn't super excited that he bought me a mug because, well, I like to choose these things.  It's like underwear... you don't want someone buying it for you because they don't know how it FEELS on you.  Now, when I say it's like underwear, I literally mean it.  Because I have this quirky thing I do when I hold a mug.  Ask anyone who's spent a lot of time around me drinking coffee (and there are plenty of you out there).  You've seen me do it.

Let me give you a hint.  In pictures.

Do you happen to see a theme here? These are my favorite 4 mugs in the universe.  And they all have one thing in common.  They have ridges.  Which I find comfort in rubbing my fingers across.

My big sister and my dad, on the other hand, they like to rub their fingers on a smooth surface.  These mugs would be torture for them.  QUIRKY, I KNOW.  Just admit right now that you do something weird too, like rub your toes on the sheets to fall asleep, and we can be friends.

So again, back to the Christmas mug.... This mug was cute!  It was black with a white Keystone logo on it.  And smooth.... ohhhh.... sooooo.... SMOOTH.  So when did I love my husband more for getting this oddly smooth mug for me?  When he said this:

I tried to find a good mug for you!  I picked them all up and I rubbed the sides, trying to find one that had something on it to rub!  But there was NOTHING!  None of the mugs had a scratchy part.  So I had to go with cute instead.  And I thought you might like this one. It's black!  And has that chalkboard look that you like!  DO YOU LIKE IT??

So how do you say no to that?  Of course I love it.  But mostly, I love that my husband stood in a little shop in Keystone, Colorado, picking up mugs to run his fingers over them.... searching with love for "the one" I might like.  In spite of the fact that he instituted a rule in our house last year:  Mug in, mug out.  If you get a new mug, another one has to go.  And he bought me a new mug anyway.

That's love y'all.  True love.