Letting Go

Now, I am a teenage girl. And, as you may or may not know, teenagers are very VERY busy bees... lots to do, always rushing around, people to see and places to be. Socialising is of course on the top of the list, as is tidying my room (don't make me laugh!).


It appears to me recently that there is always an unfinished task, something I haven't got to, someone I haven't gone to visit in a while, something I was supposed to do aggeeess ago that I still haven't done. But never did I realise in my own business that I have been letting go...


Of myself!!


I haven't plucked my eyebrows in weeks... in fact I don't even remember the last time I did it! Probably when I wrote New Discovery... Of The Most Odd Kind when I plucked the living crap out of my face and ended up looking like an angry red faced grump with no upper facial hair for 2 weeks. Luckily, nobody noticed my lack of co-ordination and precision when armed with tweezers, clearly my large fringe is a gift from God and hides my mistakes/'reconstructions' well. 


Oh how I wish I could say the same right now... my fringe has outrun my nose in the running race and is exposing my eyebrows. 


From now on, just call me bush baby. 


That is the only name I can now answer to.


I can't win! My efforts to tame the fluffy monsters last time resulted in teeny slugs wiggling across my face, and now, in all my important business of being important and very busy, I have forgotten all about them, left them to flourish and grow back into their enormous usual selves. 


And the reason for noticing my random transformation into bush child? Recent photographic evidence. The camera never lies... and those babies are pretty damn hard to hide! I do not wish to be mistaken for a man. Not until at least I reach old enough age when I'm too grumpy, deaf and blind to care. Then, and only then, is letting go in such an appalling manner acceptable! 


Good day!