this morning, while looking in the mirror, i paused to admire my beautiful, lush eyebrows. i had a sudden flash of memory ...
danielle and i are in Borders, downtown on Michigan Ave. We reach the top of the escalator. A woman is stepping onto the down escalator. She looks at me. She turns around and jumps off the escalator and approaches. She says, excuse me. I couldn't help but notice. (She whips out some notecards with pictures of different pencil-thin, sculpted eyebrows) Would you be interested in a free eyebrow-shaping consultation?
I say, no thank you, I like them this way. and walk away.
But I can't help but feel a little self-conscious about my eyebrows.
It's hard to be a nonconformist with so many conformists around. It was a lot easier in Ithaca.
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Oh my God!! Did this happen in Chicago?
I want to know how many people punched that woman in her fuckin' face.
They're the root of your secret powers!!!
I tried to shape my eyebrows once. I looked in the mirror and had a pair of tweezers and was like, ok, so... I pull out the ones I don't like, right?
Yeah, I really never got the hang of it. I just occasionally go buck wild and pull random hairs out of various bits of my face, but, actually, I might start trying to grow out my sideburns. They come in nice and curly...
Well, the true challenge in nonconformity is being truly truly nonconformist! Being a nonconformist when surrounded by other nonconformers means that, really, you are conforming, more or less, just to a different standard. So now you gotta really put your money where your mouth is!
As I get older I get a lot less nonconformist and a lot more into cost-benefit analysis. Do I derive enough satisfaction from doing this thing that society expects me to, that it's worth doing it? Or is the hassle of having people think I'm weird less than the hassle of actually doing it?
That's all I care about really.
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