I waxed my legs today, it hurts. (The pretty calm girl in the picture to the left, relaxing in her underwear, about to rip the strip from her leg is either in denial about what's about to happen or she has never waxed before).
It was around my second or third sheet that I had to stop and reevaluate. I had laid the wax out smoothly on my legs and placed the cloth over it and pressed it down. All signs were a go; the green light was glaring; the moment had come where I should then rip the tiny hairs by the hundreds from that portion of my leg, using brute force, pulling each tiny follicle from it's cozy micospot inside my all too welcoming pores. I leaned against the bathroom counter and stared into the mirror image of my eyes and asked myself ... "What the hell are you doing?"...
At this point I had to reexplain to my pain sensors that if I didn't carry through with this I would end up with massive razor burn as a result.
p.s. My legs hate being shaven. If I get so much as too close to a razor my legs turn red and spotty.
and don't even talk to me about shaving cream, quad blade razors, and soaking... I've tried it all.
Unless I want to do as many great women have done before me and have luxuriously hairy legs I need to do this; I have to do this. The mirror image of my pupils constricted a little and I knew that I was ready once more to go against my entire being's better judgment. I went on like this for about an hour and a half. every two strips or so I had to stop and give myself a little pep talk. The reason for me telling you all of this is not so that you can be grossed out or feel sorry for me or even get a thrill from my pain.
However, if this has thrilled you thus far feel free to start at the top again at this point. Repeat at will.
I have told you all of this because it has gotten me thinking. The only way in hell that I would do this to myself is if I know that the other options are worse. I know that the long term pain of not waxing is not worth going through when I can have an hour and a half of mind boggling, sweat gland stimulating, tear jerking, nerve bending pain and get it over with. It's like the band-aid analogy that many people resort to when they need to talk someone into doing something they themselves would not do in a million years. In fact, I suppose IT IS the band-aid analogy; except if I thought I could apply the wax, place the cloth on and then let the area soak for a while in the tub before pulling in off painlessly and have the desired effect, I would definitely go that rout.
Which brings me to a side thought: I feel the band-aid analogy is a poor one. The only people who rip their band-aids off are people in a hurry or who haven't considered alternative methods and maybe people who have no hair or pain sensors .
When I was in the bathroom performing the procedure described above, I realized how amazing it is that I am even able to make this kind of decision for myself. The fact that I can use my mind (that's not completely on board with the plan) >>>> to tell my shaking arm>>>> to tell my hand >>>>>to unwillingly cause such massive amounts of pain in a single moment is pretty impressive to say the least. I heard a story a year or so ago about this man who was hiking and got his arm caught under a rock. Supposedly he just cut it off all on his own and walked down the mountain. Seems impossible and ridiculous but when you consider the situation he was in you know why he did it. It was either cut his own arm off or lay there in pain until he died; the cards were stacked against his arm I'm afraid.
On tv the other day I watched a girl eat a heart for the POTENTIAL of winning a thousand dollars. She must have considered her situation and decided that she could either not eat the heart and walk away, leaving her nothing gained (making the rats she hung out with a few hours before wasted bravery) OR she could eat the thing and maybe still be poor but MAYBE have a thousand dollars to spend... well, after taxes.... eight hundred?
So to sum it up I suppose there's no telling what we'll do if the right alternatives are stacked against us. On the other hand sometimes the alternatives we chose effect others...then what? The other day when I was visiting Washington DC a woman on the bus with us had forgotten a tooth brush. I offered her mine (knowing that I could use my sister's if she accepted). She declined. I know why she declined but I bet the guy who had to sit next to her wished he could have decided for her. The alternative that she went with, although more appealing to her would not have been his first choice I'm sure.
I could go on an on about how this way of life effects everyone but I'm going to stop here and let your mind take over for a while. I'm gonna let you think about all of the things you do... not because you like it, or even the results, but because the alternatives stink. My mind is tired and hates me right now. It didn't like waxing. I tried to let it nap after the scene but it wouldn't shut down... it just kept screaming. Now it's yelling at me to get up and clean the house, this exact message is coming from the part of mind that is my conscience. It also keeps telling me that no one is going to enjoy reading this post, but I tend to disagree. I think there has to be a few sick individuals who have really enjoyed hearing about the pain I went through and have really taken a lot from this. You're welcome.
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