Wax On... Wax Off...

Being a newly inducted 39 year old with one foot on the banana peel to 40, I have decided it is time to experience some new things in life. I can't sit around forever waiting for my very own IRES (In Refrigerator Elvis Sighting) and the Virgin Mary has yet to make an appearance on any of my grilled cheese sandwiches so I have decided that I should probably stop taking midnight peaks into the icebox and proactively seek out new, if not alternative life experiences. Given that this is the first day of the rest of my life, I thought to myself "What should I do to kick it off?" I realized I had no idea, but what I did have was an appointment at a salon for 12:45, which was made after someone told me I would love it and that everyone was doing it. So, being the eternal follower that I am, I decided I should do it too...

This new "must-do" trend that I let myself get talked, if not even pressured into through fear of being left out, left behind or perhaps even pointed at is nothing other than the male Brazilian wax. I was told it wouldn't hurt - I was also told that Santa comes down the chimney bringing toys to all the good boys and girls... Lies, I tell you... All Lies. I really thought it would be a piece of cake. I thought to myself if women do this on a regular basis, how bad can it be? Not that I think women are wimps or anything, but I just can't imagine the women I know offering themselves up for torture... Unless it is a pointy pair of incredibly expensive designer shoes.

I used this same line of reasoning when I got my piercing several years ago in Barcelona. I was scared to get it. I spent years walking in and out of piercing places and chickening out each time. Everytime I would announce "I'm doing it now" Ulco would look at me, nod, and then smile when I came back without any added bling. I finally decided that if Britney could get a piercing, so could I. She was not going to out butch me on this one. And then, after all the fear that it would be incredibly painful, I was a bit disapppointed I didn't really feel it.

Using this logic, I came to the same conclusion. It wouldn't really hurt, and if it did, it would be over so fast, I wouldn't have time to feel it. I have to say, that was probably the single most painful experience I have ever gone through. Half-way through, I was covered in sweat and just wanted the insanity to end. The only problem was that I did not want to go through the next few weeks as a "partial waxer" as I would assume that is what we call people who do stop half way through the process, so I kept on while this woman inflicted emotional scars I don't think I will ever truly recover from. I have been pierced. I have been tattooed. Those things are for sissies. In fact, I am going to book them for all my friends, because I want them to know just how painful it really is.

Even now, sitting here writing this out, I can hear the faint echoes of Jane Fonda "Feel the burn!" and I do baby, I do. And in 3 - 4 weeks, I will be back face down on the table, doing it all over again.