Ah, the memories..

I was tweezing my eyebrows earlier, and I remembered something that happened back in 8th grade. I was sitting in my favourite class, and the desks were pushed together into small groups. I (unfortunately) was seated with a vaguely popular and obnoxious boy and a sort of ice-queen. Rude, obnoxious boy points to Ice Queen and referring to the shaky little lines that stand in for her eyebrows and says 'Plucked' then points to me and says 'UNplucked' and back and forth. I wanted to die. And all those years ago I felt humiliated and wanted to come up with something clever and cool to say, which also incorporated the fact that Ice Queen had a mother and older sisters whereas I just had my father and a brother, neither of whom had ever plucked their eyebrows. Instead I said nothing. It was so hard being 13 and not having the courage to stick up for myself.