Writing makes me rip out my own hair . . . no, really

My mother hates that photo of me in the sidebar. She says my smile isn’t “natural.”

Normally I’d just write it off as Mom being . . . well, Mom. But a few friends voiced the same sentiment, and since the photo is two years old, it’s time for a new one.

Lucky for me, I’m friends with wildly talented photographer Claudine Birgy. She agreed to take some new pictures in the coming week, so yesterday seemed like a good idea to wax my own eyebrows.

This is like saying it seemed like a good idea to smear my hand with rubber cement and light it on fire. I’ve done both, often with dismal results. You’d think I’d learn my lesson, but clearly the dogged determination that has fueled my writing career has also given me a bizarre over-confidence in my ability to groom myself.

Case in point: a couple years ago, I accidentally waxed a half-inch bald patch right through the middle of my left eyebrow. After several vain attempts at an eyebrow “comb-over,” I decided to draw in the missing hair.

Admittedly I don’t wear much makeup, so I had limited tools at my disposal. I briefly considered a Sharpie marker before discovering a crusty eyeliner pencil in the back of a drawer. I quickly drew in the missing brow and hurried off to work.

Within minutes of my arrival in the office, it became clear that my artistry had somehow fallen short. A co-worker stopped me in the hall and studied my face with a frown. “Why is the middle of your eyebrow green?”

You’d think I’d have learned my lesson and just resigned myself to ponying up the $15 to have someone else groom what my mother lovingly calls my “Brooke Shields eyebrows,” but no. I’m nothing if not determined, and occasionally, I actually do a pretty good job.

Much to my surprise, yesterday was one of those occasions. OK, so the right one is a little crooked in the middle, and it’s possible the left one is a bit shorter, but I think I did OK overall.

So now I’m ready for my photo shoot. In the event that I’m fortunate enough to score a book deal in the coming year and the publisher wishes to use one of my new photos on the book jacket, my mother can rest assured that this is as “natural” as it gets.