Being a girl is hard.
And the older we get the more obstacles Mother Nature throws at us. I personally took for granted that I
would always have perfect skin, tight abs and the ability to eat 3 super sized
French Fries in one sitting and not gain a pound or a dimple. In the big handbook of life lessons
they should have a section chaptered “Moments that will break your heart, your
bank account and possibly 3rd degree burns." I’m starting to experience all of these.
I’m approaching 40 way faster than I want to. And my body and mood are slightly
bi-polar, to put it bluntly. When
I turned 30 I noticed it. It just
showed up one day out of the blue.
I didn’t know what to think about it and do you talk about it with your
friends or are you the freak show?
The hair. That one rogue
black hair on the boob. Thank GOD
for Google. Anonymity. Well, wouldn’t you know there are at
least 478,652 more people in the Yahoo Chat Community that also have the rogue
black hair. Now the next question,
do you pluck it, shave it, is it like gray hairs if you make it go away will 7
return in its place??? And why was
I not warned about the rogue black hair? And what is stranger than that is that at 30 I was
back in the dating world again.
Single and exploring and experimenting and having fun. What I learned is, that complete
strangers, boys, like to share their experiences, all free and willy nilly
like, about how they were with a girl who had the mysterious rogue black hair
on the boob and they RAN! THEY
RAN!!! Now I wish I could say this
was one isolated story I heard but it wasn’t. Well, now the pressure was on!!!! And on a side bar….if you’re a boy
reading this…..Let me tell you that as far as one rogue boob hair goes, as us girls
have to put up with you guys….the smells and hairs you all have far out weigh
and scare us more than your fear of the boob hair!!!!
And so I plucked.
It hurt. And for years I
plucked the one rogue boob hair.
And then around 37, I noticed, there was a rogue chinny chin chin hair
that my now husband loves to point out and make a face when the light hits it
just right. At 39, its like my
body and its all hormones and Father Time ganged up against me. I could grow a handle bar mustache, my boobs bring new
meaning to the words “sweater puppies”, and the hair…down there….as Samantha
Jones would say…..its like someone put miracle grow in my Caress! I would almost imagine that it was
easier for Bruce Jenner to transition from a man to a woman than it is for a
woman to grow old gracefully!
So I decided that now since I’m a living breathing walking
bearded woman it was time to incorporate the waxing regiment into my life. As if it wasn’t hard enough to
fit in the every 4-week preventative hide the silver sparkle from my noggin. Now I have to fit in 4-week
primping of the rogue black hairs.
Here’s a tip, for any newbies out there….that one-inch growth is a bad
idea…really bad!!! I also
would suggest a nice big helping of xanax and Jack Daniels. The lady was quite nice and for
some reason very chatty. It’s hard
to be chatty with a complete stranger wielding a popsicle stick with 350-degree
candle wax dripping off the edge and your cooter spread apart like she’s
looking for the leak! You
should mentally prepare yourself that it’s going to be awkward and sting. LIKE A MO FO!!! I don’t care what you prepare yourself
for in life, there will never be a pain you get used to or can comprehend until
you have had this procedure done.
I would rather birth 5 kids in a pool of water in the middle of Sea
World then have to endure that again.
I literally sat straight up and inappropriately grabbed her ass. It was indeed by accident, and she
smiled, but it happened.
Four times. I feel like I
probably owe her dinner now. I
apologized profusely, and she just smiled. Forget water boarding…we should just bring ISIS to any day
spa and have them get their balls waxed. Not only will we own the oil and land they’ll give up
all their camels and their friends’ camels!
After she was done she handed me a towel and a KFC wet
wipe. Apparently I was
supposed to use the wet wipe down there, but you can’t wipe that much sticky
wax out with just one wipe, so I washed my face because all my mascara had ran
and my eyeliner was gone. It
looked like Mike Tyson had beat me up.
So I tried to clean my face.
Maybe that would distract the fact that I felt like my under britches
were stuck in places that may never come out and now I walk like a duck so that
nothing “rubs”.
I paid for my service and was informed that you get the
cheaper price if you come within the 4-5 week window for “maintenance”. Naturally I signed up because what girl
doesn’t like a discount!
They tell me it gets better the more you go. That eventually your body gets used to this torture and
stops producing the rogue hairs.
I’ve been plucking and waxing my eyebrows since I was 20. I was a late bloomer. I’m still waiting on that phenomenon to
happen. I’m not holding my breath. But I am investing in lidocaine and a
wooden block to bite into for my next trip. I probably
should take Sarah some flowers, it just seems the like the right thing to do,
after all, she was wearing latex gloves!
