13
I began to grow a sparse unibrow in seventh grade. I didn’t mind it for a while, thinking it was an acceptable and ineffable facial feature like a cleft chin or freckles. But my hairs grew and my self-awareness grew too, and my unibrow tolerance shrank ever smaller. I sought to make a change and I knew hairs could be cut; scissors were too dangerous so I opted for nail clippers. I trimmed my unibrow hairs with nail clippers for about two years until a classmate told me he could see the stumps and that he groomed his brow with tweezers, rooted them out entirely. (Tweezers—who would have thought! I suspected a superior hair-removal technology existed but had not yet heard it named. In my mind, at that time, tweezers’ sole purpose was dislodging splinters from the undersides of unfortunate toes.) I snuck a pair of blue tweezers out of my mother’s toiletry bag and co-opted it for my own use until I left my home for college and finally bought my own, finally master of my own eyebrow destiny.
14
I used to be a very frequent visitor of RedTube, a popular pornography website, and I assiduously deleted my history after each session. For a month last year I temporarily switched browsers to Google Chrome but uninstalled it when I found its history management function faulty. It is much easier to curate former searches on Firefox but even though History harbors no incriminating websites, my address bar autofills to RedTube when I enter an unassuming ‘r,’ suddenly summoning the ghost of my lecherous past.
I later discovered that the remedy lay not in Clear Browsing History, but Clear Site Preferences. I wonder how many like me browse Mozilla’s preferences pages not out of technical interest, but to palliate our shame.
15
A simple recipe for a most exquisite pleasure. Step 1: Inhale marijuana smoke and become consumed in a powerful body high. Step 2: Rub or have another rub your inner thigh, applying pressure with all five digits of an open-palmed hand.
16
What more could I ever ask of a person than what you give me?