so. the alarm sounds and i wake thinking my god, i fell asleep without brushing my teeth or washing my face.
we had sushi last night–a really nice non-wedding night and surprisingly a non-wedding conversation was had. not that we’re not excited about the fact that we’ll be saying our vows in a week and a few hours, but our lives have been saturated with all the planning and anticipation that it’s nice to have a breather.
i enjoyed myself despite the canker sore i have which spawns most of my right upper lip. ewww, gross. it is healing, however. that didn’t matter to my coworkers who kept at it with the jokes about how i wasn’t moving the right side of my mouth while talking. bastards.
so i figured okay–i have some tan lines, a canker sore, and now possibly a new zit forming from my lack of washing the old visage last night. great. but i can think about all those things and even concentrate on the canker sore pain–since this morning i’m going to bare it down there for my first brazilian wax experience.
that’s right. i’m living proof that the most scared, cowardly, baby can do this.
i made it through.
i filled out a form which asked questions like “is this your first experience? we don’t recommend that if the area has been sunburned, etc. that you get treatment”. on the top of the “have you taken these medications?” list was accutane, a drug i took in college which thins out your skin and although it cleared up my skin, it’s been in the news as a not so great side effects drug (read: suicide, back and head pain, if you get pregnant, your children will be deformed–no joke–type of drug). so after checking off the accutane box i wondered if they were going to send me home, but instead this tall blond woman who was their poster lady for one of their products line assured me i’d be walking out in fine condition but that it may hurt only DURING the process. Um, ok. I don’t get that I pay $70 plus tip to be inflicted with pain, but I DID make the appointment.
The receptionist called out these parting words as I stepped into the waxing room: “I’m sure you’ve been through worse!” Yeahhh….right.
So I was instructed to strip from waist down and put my head on the table like so so that if someone accidentally walked in on me, there I would be, spread eagle. Great! So I started second guessing her instructions when she came in and I realized my God, this woman is not my doctor or Bub or ME–a complete stranger is going to start messing around down there with wax.
So the short of it is that the wax was hot and the ripping was more tender in some areas. The thing that was most disconcerting is that about 5-10 rips in, I wondered when the f this was going to end. She was really nice, tried to make wedding conversation and I tried to return the favor and make small talk with her. Anything was better than the flinching, sweaty palms thing I was doing to keep from thinking about how I must look…down there.
Then I got the “Do you want me to do the back?”
UM…I told her I had no clue what that meant. I got a blank expression and then a well, there’s hair down in back (read: VERY close to your BUTT) so I was like ummmm and that’s what I said “ummmm” and she said it’s part of the price and you may as well. So there I am, butt in plain view and at that point I was a pro.
I didn’t even flinch.