getting in touch with my masculine side

i looked at a picture of myself last night, and i thought:

wow. i look like a man.

now, through a couple of instant message exchanges, my friend e convinced me that this is decidedly not so. she had just purchased herself a pair of self-described "BEAUTIFUL ASS" jeans (her capitals) from Bloomingdale's for a small fortune, so she was feeling very feminine and powerful and i-am-woman-hear-me-roar-ish.

YOU ARE INSANE.

she wrote back.

duh.

after some contemplation, i decided that what i see as masculine are my father's eyebrows. i have them. they're well-shaped though slightly Luciferian. they peak. most of the hairs are well-tamed, although occasionally, if i haven't been keeping up with the pruning, one will shoot out from its bed and point defensively at my companion.

no, she doesn't wax. she has sensitive skin. do you have a problem with that?

they're not mannish, they're just strong. with my noble hook nose, i suppose i'd look pretty stupid with two petite little apostrophes for eyebrows. mine are more like brackets. eh...i'm actually sort of happy to have them. they give me excellent expression abilities and they catch snowflakes.

if only i could develop such loving tolerance for the moustache that reveals its dark side when i've run out of Jolen Creme Bleach.