AGING | HUMOR

My Eyebrow Hairs Have No Sense of Direction

I’m not judging because neither do I

A Compass Would Have Been a Really Good Gift

I was not born with a sense of direction. Today, I have to physically face a certain point in my community, known to be north, to orient my body. Until then, I am not able to discern east or west.

I do justify this extra-long pause, complete with repositioning when I am asked for specific directions. I take a moment to explain that after 10 years of living on the east coast of Florida, I am technically backward until further notice. The Gulf is west, very close, but the Atlantic Ocean was right there, in my face, when I lived on the other coast. I could look at the ocean and clearly direct someone by saying, “Oh, yes, just head north on A1A. You’ll see it about a mile down the road, on your right. I was so good and sounded extremely smart.

Now, mind you, it took me well into 7 years on the east coast before that trick ‘came’ to me. I suffer, really. I have no idea if geographical orientation will ever go into autopilot again. It was so easy to make sure my right arm was next to the ocean to orient myself.

Being lost, though, is not unfamiliar to me.

When I was a relatively newish driver, I embarked on my first 90-minute planned trip to visit some family in northern New Jersey. It was my maiden voyage, a solo trek, and we lived close enough in southern New Jersey.

Cell phones were someone’s pipe dream, somewhere, and not even known to exist in 1982ish. (Timing is fuzzy but not really pertinent to my eyebrows which I will get to in a minute.) If you got lost, you relied on the handy dandy large paper map of the United States conveniently kept in the glove box.

My father, who worked south of our house, asked my mom upon his arrival home from a long day where I was headed. He had seen my car traveling south on the small interstate. Yes, I had eventually done a U-turn when I realized my error.

I believe I only added another half hour to the original 90-minute trip. No big deal.

This was to be a recurring theme in my life.

What does any of this have to do with eyebrows, you ask?

The Story of My Unibrow

I frequently refer to a unibrow whether or not people are familiar with what it means. It happens to be a term regarding:

a single continuous brow resulting from the growing together of eyebrows.

Though I pluck my center lane often, I come from a hairy lineage, so it’s obvious when I forget for a few days.

I have healthy hair.

My eyebrows are naturally dark, dark brown, bordering on black, and durably constructed with the most resilient hair shaft known to man. That’s great unless you’re a woman. I actually pluck, use scissors to trim, and occasionally feather them for uniqueness.

Those suckers are sturdy and sharp. If misused, they could probably draw blood.

What I didn’t realize until recently is that my eyebrows would age as I did. They haven’t lost their luster or their strength. I have not noticed a slowing of their growth spurts either. But, I am distressed for an unexpected reason.

They have lost their sense of direction.

Three days ago, I found one firmly rooted in my chin.

My chin!

It is not a chin hair.

My chin hairs are soft with a pale-yellow coloring reminiscent of fine peach fuzz. This random hair was an insult to the minute cropping of existing light growth. I am trying to be sensitive to the possibility of early-onset dementia.

This was an eyebrow hair of epic proportions. Once the shock wore off, and I thoroughly stared at it with my magnifying mirror, I started to love it. Just a bit.

I am so fascinated by it and its determination to relocate that I have left it intact.

I plan on waiting one entire week before I remove it. Curiosity has driven me to take the position of wait-and-see. Is it a scout hair? Does it communicate with other eyebrow hairs that it found an ideal vacation spot?

Or, are they cross-pollinating? My tweezers will be rendered ineffective at the massive overhaul I’ll require. Does Black & Decker make facial tools?

For now, I wait.

If it’s an isolated misstep on behalf of my brows, at least I have this week to play with it while I mindlessly sit in traffic jams.

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