Now, I know I’ve been pretty stressed of late, what with fatness, Edinburgh and work fuck ups. But, Mr Body, there’s no need for this.
I found a grey eyebrow hair yesterday, and to make it worse, I found it in my eyebrow, and it was attached.
For me this is worse than most. Since the age of around 18 if you’d have asked my what my favourite part of my body was I’d have said the eyebrows. Everything else is too skinny, too fat, too lanky, too gawky… not that I have problem, I don’t dislike anything much about me. But just don’t necessarily like it either.
Except for the eyebrows, they are perfect. No stray hairs, never a need for plucking, each hair like a bee in a cartoon swarm going for the shape of an arrow, each one knows where it has to be and what it has to do. My eyebrows are like two mini armies.
I can even move them independently. Like Roger Moore my right eyebrow will arch up quizzically when a foe makes a semi-witty remark. In comedic terms this movements buys me precious seconds to think of something Bondlike and funny to say.
But it is not the right eyebrow that is causing today’s woe. By a process of ecuation you’ve probably worked out which one it is.
And I think I know why. In the mid nineties I was muchly enjoying my one eyebrow raise technique, especially as it seemed that no one else (except the Roger Moore) could do it.
Then one day, I met my nemesis. Not Jensen Button, that’s a whole other story. But another nemesis (can you have two) and he could raise his right eyebrow indecently of the other.
My life was over, I’d foolishly put all of my life into the eyebrow raising stakes and now had nothing to fall back on.
So cue the music, I had to have a drastic strategy…Training.
I would practice (and by God with all its embarrassment, this is true) for hours on end holding down the right eyebrow and then using my eyebrow raising muscles until eventually (and this did take a while) I could control the muscle that lifted the left eyebrow.
Even to this day the individual right eyebrow lift is cleek and elegant, whereas the left one is a bit stunted, like a retarded brother. But, and more importantly, it lifts, and all the right can do is twitch a bit.
This was great, and if I’d ever met my nemesis again (though I forget who it was) I will have the power to defeat him.
But the downside is that I think I’ve prematurely aged the left eyebrow, hence it’s greyness. There is a moral here about the body beautiful somewhere. Probably.
Though, it might have just been a blonde one…