I dedicate this title to my sister. The woman who is willing to answer her phone at 10pm while I am waiting for my much delayed 2nd laser hair removal treatment (appointment was at 9:30pm) and provide me with an inverse logarithmic function because I do physics homework in the oddest of places (like the waiting lobby of my medi spa) and my brain went numb and my backup brain (i.e. the internet) was non existent in that location.
Before sitting down to write today, I thought, "What should I write about? What should I say to entertain all 2 of my readers today?" Should I write about the nine hours of sleep I have had over the last 3 nights...combined? Should I write about the fact that my work is finally starting to understand that no one person can save the organization and that it must be a group effort? Nah, I should write about the awkwardness of female grooming (no worries, the imagery is mild so fear not readers with a delicate constitution!).
There is a moment in one of the Sex and the City movies in which Carrie gets a Brazilian bikini wax while out in oh so glamorous LA scene (and for those of you who do not know what this is...go look it up because I will not be getting into those gory details). In the scene she has her leg up past her head as she tries to make small talk with the Eastern European esthetician ripping the hair out of her nether regions (Eastern European women do make the best estheticians by the way...maybe it is because they offer no mercy...). That scene so beautifully captured the true feel of that whole idea/moment. You want to be friendly with your esthetician but really, when it comes right down to it, you don't want to be friends with someone who knows your va-jay-jay better than you do. Just think about it, the awkwardness will come to you.
Anyhoo, last night as I bent and moved into truly awkward positions under the harsh lights of the procedure room (seriously, you can dress it up with linens and candles and plants all you want, but nothing can make clients forget that the lights in those rooms are brighter than the surface of the sun and are practically screaming out every flaw you have for all to hear) and my technician's intense stare, a thought hit me, "Where's the mood music and flowers?" I mean this lady is practically rounding third base if you think about it (again, look that up if you don't know what that means) and I don't even get dinner out of the deal! The last person who had my bent like a pretzel at least woo'd me a bit before hand. But this little adventure was only precluded by, "Are you wearing deodorant?" (if your underarms have deodorant it inhibits the laser, so it must be wiped off before you start). How bizarre when you think about it.
The grooming habits of the US is pretty darn hilarious when you get right down to it! :-)
