Dos cejas, por favor

I’m down to one week left before departing for Guatemala, and time has been swiftly flying by as I have been making final preparations for my big move. Amidst deciding what items will make the 80 pound luggage limit, teaching my parents how to use Skype, making lists of things to accomplish (I even make lists of lists I need to make), and purchasing a waterproof container for every article I am taking (you’ve got to love a country where it rains six months out of the year), one major concern has been weighing on me heavily: eyebrow maintenance.

I discovered the wonders of wax as a young teen and have spent the subsequent decade perfecting its use. Admittedly there was a time in college when I was a bit overzealous with the substance and learned the hard way after stumbling home from the gym rendered momentarily blind from an unimpeded stream of sweat flowing into my eyes that eyebrows serve a more important function than just aesthetics. But that was many years ago and my brows have since settled into a healthy thickness where form meets function, which brings me to my current obsession. Without the guarantee of a microwave (my preferred wax melting apparatus) or even electricity for that matter, I fear my eyebrows will grow back into their natural wild state. While left unkempt, my eyebrows would by no means rival the glory of Frida Kahlo’s (I am more in the Brook Shields realm), I consider any hair that is not a member of a defined arch perfectly aligned with my supraorbital margin as an unwanted hair that must be removed. I suppose I can make due with my razor tip Revlon tweezers, but I am sure hoping for electricity or at least acquiring the knowledge to melt wax over an open fire.

Once again, for more substantive blogging material please visit smose.blogspot.com.

Bienvenidos

Being the anal, type A person that I am (cue the collective gasp of disbelief from the people I know at that self description), I will commence my adventure in blogging as I would any other endeavor, by laying out some ground rules for myself and all my loyal readers (aka, my mom). I have learned in my 25 years that many a disappointment can be averted by simply entering a situation with healthy expectations (and by healthy, I mean low). So here is what you should and should not expect from my contribution to the already drivel saturated wondrous thing we call the internet (thank you again Al Gore):

I am not particularly insightful, deep, poetic, or witty (but always self-depreciating), so if you happen upon this blog hoping to be moved, enlightened or even remotely entertained may I direct you to smose.blogspot.com instead. What I can promise is at least a monthly synopsis on my progress in saving the world assuring everyone that I am indeed still alive having not been swallowed by a Guatemalan sinkhole.

I enjoy parentheses. I intend to use them frequently.

I am quite possibly the worst speller in the world (bottom five easily). In the event that I do not have access to a spell checker, please do not interpret my inability to spell as a reflection of my intellectual capacity.

For the most part I intend to keep this blog at the PG level. While there will not be any gratuitous profanity, an obscenity might be used here or there but only in a tasteful manner to fully relay a story or incident.

Prepare yourself for sarcasm…lots of sarcasm.

Feedback is appreciated, although only the positive will be taken into consideration.