I recently planned a vacation, where I would be on a sailboat, in a bikini, in front of a man....
i had no other choice but to get
********My First Brazilian Wax*********
FOUR OF THE SCARIEST WORDS EVER!
You ask why on earth kimmy, would you even consider, let alone actually allow someone to repeatedly rip delicate hair out of your nether-SLASH-regions- over and over and over again?
Read the first sentence again... keywords: vacation, sailboat, bikini, man....
Ok, that is reason enough, this also reinforced by a wicked little story my friend Laura told me: she knew I was embarking on this adventure/vacation with this man (someone I now refer to as "flacid sailor" more on that later) and she told me the story of the time she went to Hawaii with her two friends Todd and Steve (partners traveling for a commitment ceremony- she was their best woman) I digress- she went out to this beautiful beach, white sand, clear blue water, you can see it--she in a large straw hat, donning a bathing suit and coverup. The coverup came off and both the boy's jaws dropped- both said in unison "you forgot to shave the sideburns" She never recovered from the shame--
As for myself, horrified and a little grossed out from hearing that story, I quickly headed to the local spa for my dose of self prescribed pain and agony.
I will be honest, the pain was extremely excruciating and oh yeah there was blood and swelling. The esthetician (this is her label- and this must rank right up there with gynecologist and proctologist and tell me again --why on earth would anyone want to do any of these jobs on purpose) she was quick and thorough and with each distribution of pretty darn hot wax and each rip she winced and breathed along with me as if she was feeling the pain with me. I felt like I was there on that table for a good three hours but looked at the clock when she was satisified with my new clean work surface and it had only been 20 minutes! She gave me some numbing stuff and it was all over, and the beaming proud look on my face that I survived my first brazilian wax must have touched her soft cookie center because she did my brows for free!
I was bare as a baby and you know what, once it's all gone it's really a weird thing. You totally feel like you are made for sex. The emphasis on the area is magnetic and amazing. You feel electric and sexy and alive. It's profound. I was ready for my trip- ready for unbridled passion, no inhibitions, totally confident in this new bare body image, ready for lots and lots of frosting (more on that in future scratchings)....
Unfortunately, it was totally wasted because I found out just a few hours into the vacation that my sailor was really a rat in disquise, a big huge rat, a big huge, lying, cheating, married rat that never got to go to Brazil afterall. I have since renamed him appropriately "flacid sailor" and told him that it really was his loss and
this will be one of the biggest regrets of his life because no matter what time of the year,
Brazil is a little slice of heaven.
1 comment:
Oh Kimmykat...
I can still feel each and every hair being hoiked from it's holster!
That was simply EXCRUTIATING and I was simply reading about it.
I must admit, with apparent shame now, that I have never been bold enough to strip bare my front bottom in it's entirety...yes, you heard it here, well, I did write about it in one of my colourful little rambles, called 'manicuring the minge', which truly is the extent of my deforestation project.
I must admit, the lure of a smooth and satiny soft spot has been strong, but the subsequent agony, and I am convinced of the agony, does deter me...
Men love it though, don't they?
Which brings me to the unfortunate, but apparently appropriately named Flaccid Sailor. I think you are lucky the rat jumped ship, not to mention the fact that the word flaccid continues to disturb me...
You deserve someone as bold and beautiful as yourself with the words Rock Hard in there somewhere - someone who deserves to go to Brazil with you darling.
xox
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