Thursday, November 5, 2009
Courtesy of Morgaine Le Fay
All hair removal methods have tricked us with their promises of easy, painless removal---the Epilady, scissors, razors, Nair, and now: The Wax. This method was no different. My night began as any other normal weekday night. Came home, fixed dinner, played with the kids. It was only later, after they were in bed, that I had the idea that would prove to be my downfall: Maybe I should pull the wax out of the medicine cabinet.
So I headed to the site of my imminent destruction, the bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, no sirree! You just rubbed the strips together in your hand, they would get warm so that you could peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else), and the hair would come right off. No muss, no fuss. So I'm thinking, how hard can it be? I mean I'm no girly-girl, but I am mechanically inclined enough that I can figure it out. You'd think so, anyway.
So I pull one of the thin strips out. It 's actually two strips facing each other, stuck together. So instead of rubbing them together, I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. Cold wax, my aunt Fanny. I lay the strip across my thigh, hold the skin around it tight, and pull. OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-ra, fighter of all wayward body hair and seeker of smooth skin extraordinaire. And so I forge ahead. With my next wax strip, I move north. Then, after checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom for the ultimate hair-fighting championship.
I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of the bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (yes, it was a long strip). I inhale deeply and brace myself.
RRRRIIIPPP!!! I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain! OH, MY GOD!
Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half of the strip. S**T!!! Another deep breath and RRRRIIPP. Everything is swirly and spotted... Do I hear crashing drums? OK, back to normal. I want to see my trophy - a wax strip covered with the hairy pelt that has caused me so much pain. I want to revel in the glory that is my victory over body hair.
Triumphantly, I hold up the strip. There's no hair on it. Where is the hair? Even more importantly, WHERE IS THE WAX? Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair; the hair that should be on the strip. I touch it. I am touching wax. S**T! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake - remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? Well, I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. DAMN!!! I hear the slamming of the cell door. Vagina? Sealed shut. Ass?? Sealed shut. I penguin-walk around the bathroom, trying to figure out what to do and thinking to myself, Please don't get the urge to poop. Hell, my head may pop off. Then I realized... Hot water! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits, and the wax should melt. Then I can gently wipe it off, right? WRONG!
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than then that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment -and I sit. Now, the only thing worse than having your nether businesses glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub. In scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax. So now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub.
God bless the man who convinced me I should have a phone in the bathroom. I call my friend, thinking surely she's waxed before and has some secret knowledge of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter: "So, my butt and my hoo-ha are stuck to the bottom of the tub..."
There is a slight pause. She doesn't have a secret trick, but at least she tries to hide the laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located on bottom: "Are we talking cheeks or hole or what?" She's laughing out loud by now; I can hear her. I give her the 4-1-1 on the situation, and she suggests I call the number on the side of the wax-strip box. Yeah, right! I should be the high point of someone else's night. While we are going through various options, I am resorting to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super-hot water and then dry-shaved to get the sticky wax off. By now my brain is not working, my dignity has taken a major hike, and I am fast slipping into glazed-donut land.
Then, as my friend is talking with me, my hand gropes around and finds the saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on, and "OH MY GOD!!!"
The scream probably woke the kids, and I know it scared the dickens out of my friend, but I really don't care. IT WORKS!! It really works!! I get an enthusiastic (read: relieved) congratulations from my friend, who then hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then realize, to my grief and despair...THE HAIR IS STILL THERE... ALL OF IT!!! So I shave it off. Hell, I'm numb at this point.
Next week I'm going to try hair color.
Posted by De Sube at 11/05/2009 04:49:00 PM