It's gonna get sappy up in here.
[Note: I allowed this pun in the headline, even though I am anti-pun in headlines, generally speaking. 'Cause this one is just so goofy. Carry on, clever Emily! --Jane] So, my boyfriend was out of town all weekend -- in our house, we call this a "Super Hall Pass," and even though I've been sober for over 2 and a half years, they are still triggering to me, because of what they used to signify: PARTY. TIME.
Luckily, I have a long list, concoted in therapy, of non-self-destructive things I can do when I feel triggered -- meditate, take a Pilates class, buy something small like a magazine or a lipstick, take a long walk, watch a movie on demand, read, and lots of other stuff that is nowhere NEAR as fun as getting wasted used to be. Being sober is awesome, but nobody is waiting for 6 o' clock to roll around so they can go get their meditation on.
So this weekend, instead of treating myself to a 3-day cocaine-and-booze binge, I decided to treat myself to a mani-pedi! And, spontaneously, an eyebrow wax.
Um, uh-oh. I tried to stay calm.
YES. As usual, the boyfriend is a wordsmith. I was aggressively waxed.
I should probably have known that I wasn't going to get the best service at a deep Brooklyn nail salon that charges 20 bucks total for a manicure/pedicure/eyebrow wax and has little fans instead of nail dryers. I always know these things are a bad idea and surge forward anyway, like a few weeks ago when I paid 5 dollars at a unisex barbershop in the neighborhood to get my bangs trimmed into an extremely lopsided line that I ended up fixing myself.
Luckily, said bangs will assist greatly in covering this act of eyebrow terrorism. Has this ever happened to you? How long til' my brows are adult-sized again?
(PS: Later on, I took a walk and a passing dog licked my leg, so it was still a pretty good day.)