Here I stand, vulnerable, disappointed, and excited all at the same time. With Nads waxing kit in hand and dressed in skimpy mom underwear, I am cutting the little green organic strips to embark on an age old tradition - the female waxing session. As I am preparing the skin for the pain, big kid is staring in bewildered awe at how I can place this sticky stuff on my body, and rip it off with the immediate blood curdling scream of "OUCH!" that almost involuntarily follows. Typically she hides behind my bathrobe, and peers out as if she has just painted something with poop and hiding will make me not notice it. Trying to engage her - and soothe her fears - I ask her to count to three after I have placed, rubbed, and smoothed the strip down. Fears are perfectly normal here, because lets face it, I am ripping hair out by the root with acute force and then repeating the act until I resemble a newborn baby. This is, by far, the worse modern day torture that we inflict upon ourselves (and I am convinced that most countries use currently as a method of torture). Mind you I have not only one witness to this event, there are two... big kid and little baby. Both are girls, so in one way I am looking at this like preparation to an unavoidable right of painful passage someday.
As if this isn't bad enough, that I have to do these dirty deeds in front of my kids... lo and behold, the husband wanders in. Great, now it's a freak waxing circus. Immediately, I smack boxes up and down and start shuffling things around on the bathroom counter to look like this is not actually what I am doing. In my flurry of smacking random objects, a long strip gets caught on my elbow and is hanging listlessly like a toilet paper strand in a tree after Halloween. Feeling utterly embarrassed about this whole *deer-in-the-headlights-look* I am finding it very difficult to keep my composure. Big kid still firmly placed behind the bathrobe (little baby looking at me in confusion), I finally decide to cave in and admit that I was waxing. In unison with big kid, and little baby, the husband is staring at me like I've gone completely crazy with a "Why the hell do you have a waxing strip hanging from your elbow?" look.
IS THERE NOTHING SACRED ANYMORE? Have I really been degraded to the point of waxing in public as that would have less of an audience then my own bathroom? I don't even remember having this many eyes on me even when I went to the judgmental nail parlor down the street - with the shady back room that you are forced to take the "walk of shame" to. Passing over twenty or so women en route to this waxing dungeon, eyes following you with each advancing step. Glazing you over with their dilated pupils using that head to toe stare thinking, "what is she going back there for?" Shuddering, I hold my head low ensuring avoidance of all possible eye contact until the door closes to the closet sized room. Without fail, you always walk out of that little room hairless, confidence broken, and shamed by the whole vulnerable process. That experience was considerably more private than this entourage in front of me. I can already see my kids mentioning this in therapy as a traumatic experience they endured in childhood.
I vowed then and there never to wax during the day again, and to instead leave this process to night time activity when husband is gallivanting about town and kids are asleep. Sadomasochistic things like self waxing should (and now forever will) be a private affair.
Allow myself to introduce... myself?
7 Things that I'm in complete contradiction with myself on:
1) I am one of those rare and stereotypical socially awkward IT computer nerds.
Contradiction: I'm also like Martha Stewart.
(Actually these two are pretty much the same level of crazy, so it's a wash).
2) I love horror movies. I mean I'm obsessed with them. Anything that will scare the crap out of me and make my blood curdle is AWESOME. They are literally better than breathing... ok, well maybe not that.
Contradiction: I refuse to view any needle going into me at the doctors and I have to lay down when blood is drawn in fear of passing out.
3) My inner child is an "Emo" teenager who has purple and blue hair, listens to "The Cure", and wears heavy black lipstick.
Contradiction: My "Emo" inner child often fights with the preppy/bohemian adult. "Let's wear that 'Sisters of Mercy' Tee-shirt today!"... "No! We're wearing this tunic with jean shorts and flower sequined sandals."
4) I'm seen as a socially fun person, nice, outgoing, etc.
Contradiction: Social interaction scares me, and I am a hermit. There is nothing I enjoy more than staying at home on my couch in my Costco pajamas, communicating only through text/ email, and farting in silence.
Agoraphobia is a blink away.
5) I can't stand repeating myself over and over to someone who isn't listening.
Contradiction: I repeat myself constantly to the point where no one wants to listen.
6) I love the country.
Contradiction: I hate bugs.
7) I'm very disciplined to the point of seeming militant, and have been accused of being emotionally detached.
Contradiction: I'm a "wear my heart on my sleeve" type, and I'm an emotional wussy. I cry at Onstar commercials, and every episode of Extreme Home Makeover.
1) I am one of those rare and stereotypical socially awkward IT computer nerds.
Contradiction: I'm also like Martha Stewart.
(Actually these two are pretty much the same level of crazy, so it's a wash).
2) I love horror movies. I mean I'm obsessed with them. Anything that will scare the crap out of me and make my blood curdle is AWESOME. They are literally better than breathing... ok, well maybe not that.
Contradiction: I refuse to view any needle going into me at the doctors and I have to lay down when blood is drawn in fear of passing out.
3) My inner child is an "Emo" teenager who has purple and blue hair, listens to "The Cure", and wears heavy black lipstick.
Contradiction: My "Emo" inner child often fights with the preppy/bohemian adult. "Let's wear that 'Sisters of Mercy' Tee-shirt today!"... "No! We're wearing this tunic with jean shorts and flower sequined sandals."
4) I'm seen as a socially fun person, nice, outgoing, etc.
Contradiction: Social interaction scares me, and I am a hermit. There is nothing I enjoy more than staying at home on my couch in my Costco pajamas, communicating only through text/ email, and farting in silence.
Agoraphobia is a blink away.
5) I can't stand repeating myself over and over to someone who isn't listening.
Contradiction: I repeat myself constantly to the point where no one wants to listen.
6) I love the country.
Contradiction: I hate bugs.
7) I'm very disciplined to the point of seeming militant, and have been accused of being emotionally detached.
Contradiction: I'm a "wear my heart on my sleeve" type, and I'm an emotional wussy. I cry at Onstar commercials, and every episode of Extreme Home Makeover.
Why don't YOU pipe down???
My apologies to anyone who finds this offensive, but FLOCK YOU concert goers who "SHHHHHH!" other attendees.
Who died and made you king of the concert hall monitor league? Just because I'm talking to my friends (by the way it was at a reasonable *concert volume*) at the same concert you are attending doesn't give you the right to angrily "SHHHHHH" us. You might have a stronger argument if we were at a closed acoustic viewing of a band like (oh I don't know) U2... but at a huge outdoor amphitheater showing of Lyle Lovett? Really? I'm sorry, but if you find it's so imperative to "SHHHHHH!" someone at a huge outdoor concert who is already standing on the cheap hill seat area near the recycling trash cans, then you are too socially stunted to be outside of your moldy basement. We were willing to accommodate you by moving several times AND lowering our voice... but how far must we be ostracized from the park before you are satisfied? Shall we completely remove ourselves from the park entirely? Would THAT make you freaking happy jackass?
By chance were you a hall monitor as a kid?
Did you find pleasure in tattling on the not-even-that-bad kids?
Do you work for the IRS?
Have you gone "postal" before?
Do you correct others mid-sentence with their grammatical errors?
Have you created your own penal code?
Are you retired?
Lighten up, SERIOUSLY. You need a seriously strong cocktail to kill the bug living up your hole. Last time I checked, I wasn't attending a poetry slam at a coffee house, nor was I at a classical performance at a major upscale concert hall. If memory serves, the outdoor amphitheater folk/ rock concert I was attending has never been so quiet that you could hear crickets chirping and no human sound within a ten mile radius. WTF?!?!?!? I swear it was so quiet at one point that I could hear an ant fart ten miles away. If that small amount of human buzz and interaction bothers you, then you should strongly consider removing yourself from society. Becoming a hermit would suit you, and you could order all your accoutrement, groceries and household items online. You really could get rid of all that silly crap like bothersome human dialogue or general interaction, and concentrate on how superior you are to everyone else. Get off your high horse, stupid jackass.
Out of curiousity, what is your opinion everyone?
A) I strenuously agree, concert "SHHHHHH!"-ers can suck it.
B) You're a self important @** - I disagree, and here's why...
Who died and made you king of the concert hall monitor league? Just because I'm talking to my friends (by the way it was at a reasonable *concert volume*) at the same concert you are attending doesn't give you the right to angrily "SHHHHHH" us. You might have a stronger argument if we were at a closed acoustic viewing of a band like (oh I don't know) U2... but at a huge outdoor amphitheater showing of Lyle Lovett? Really? I'm sorry, but if you find it's so imperative to "SHHHHHH!" someone at a huge outdoor concert who is already standing on the cheap hill seat area near the recycling trash cans, then you are too socially stunted to be outside of your moldy basement. We were willing to accommodate you by moving several times AND lowering our voice... but how far must we be ostracized from the park before you are satisfied? Shall we completely remove ourselves from the park entirely? Would THAT make you freaking happy jackass?
By chance were you a hall monitor as a kid?
Did you find pleasure in tattling on the not-even-that-bad kids?
Do you work for the IRS?
Have you gone "postal" before?
Do you correct others mid-sentence with their grammatical errors?
Have you created your own penal code?
Are you retired?
Lighten up, SERIOUSLY. You need a seriously strong cocktail to kill the bug living up your hole. Last time I checked, I wasn't attending a poetry slam at a coffee house, nor was I at a classical performance at a major upscale concert hall. If memory serves, the outdoor amphitheater folk/ rock concert I was attending has never been so quiet that you could hear crickets chirping and no human sound within a ten mile radius. WTF?!?!?!? I swear it was so quiet at one point that I could hear an ant fart ten miles away. If that small amount of human buzz and interaction bothers you, then you should strongly consider removing yourself from society. Becoming a hermit would suit you, and you could order all your accoutrement, groceries and household items online. You really could get rid of all that silly crap like bothersome human dialogue or general interaction, and concentrate on how superior you are to everyone else. Get off your high horse, stupid jackass.
Out of curiousity, what is your opinion everyone?
A) I strenuously agree, concert "SHHHHHH!"-ers can suck it.
B) You're a self important @** - I disagree, and here's why...
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