What in the holy fuck is wrong with females? Last night I paid a ginger with a nose ring to pour hot wax on my hoo-ha and rip out my pubes without an ounce of remorse.
I paid her for that.
The night before, I paid an Asian woman who spoke very little English to point out the flaws in my feet and paint my toenails while jibbering in her native tongue to her coworker. Tonight I'm going to get a spray tan - and there will no doubt be a condescending teenager manning the front desk judging me while texting her douchebag boyfriend on a phone her parents paid for.
Being a girl is a lot of work. This reminds me of "pretty week" in high school. It was the week the school receptionist told us we were most likely to get asked to prom, so my best friend and I dressed up in our finest clothes and did our hair and make up every day that week in an effort to
It feels like I'm doing an adult version of pretty week now. Maybe it's because in about 24 hours I'll have this godforsaken leg brace off and I'll feel back to normal (sort of). Maybe it's because I rarely do "pretty" stuff. Maybe it's because I kind of like doing "pretty" stuff. (Maybe it's because I have a crush on a guy just like I did when I commenced "pretty week" in high school.)
So back to the bikini wax. I've never had anything waxed except my eyebrows one time a hundred years ago. So, naturally I went for the Brazilian. Go big or go home, punk. Who doesn't want to have their lady lips waxed on an otherwise pleasant Tuesday evening?
Oh, no big deal. I'll just show my hairy beaver to a stranger, and then let her remove said hair in arguably THE most barbaric way possible. As if they knew it was an oxymoron, the facility was super modern with clean lines, frosted glass and a clinical meets massage parlor vibe, like paying top dollar to have your body hair ripped out is perfectly normal and absolutely an activity you should participate in, without question.
And JUST IN CASE you didn't realize (because I only recently learned this), a Brazilian is everything from your c-section scar to your back door. Everything. (That means your butthole too, guys.) I've never felt so vulnerable as I did when I got my butthole waxed, and that's the damned truth.
Surprisingly, it didn't hurt as badly as I thought it would. I did have the most painful surgical recovery of my life this month though, so by comparison it was like butterfly kisses. On my vajeen. I suppose it was worth it, because now it's smooth like buttah. Or like waxed punani (best band name ever).