Life on Smooth Mountain
So I got waxed for the first time the other day.
It was at the local place where they do my toes. They know me there and always ask about the pupster, who usually gets at least one walk past the salon per diem. Since patronizing the salon on a regular basis (thank you, regular paycheque) Ive discovered that manicures don't last long and are only useful if I'm going somewhere special. Pedicures, however, are not only a bargain but in SoCal almost a summer necessity. For crying out loud -- we live in a desert. Some hydration for the toeses, please.
Anyway, I've avoided waxing in past because of the reported pain. But the idea of being silky smooth for a week at a time really appeals. Bikini lines are an order of magnitude harder to shave than pits or legs. Plus the bumps of regrowth (ladies, you know what I mean) are annoying. So I waited for the right day, popped a couple of acetaminophen, and hied myself thither.
The lady was familiar and nice. And the pain was actually not that bad. But nobody ever told me about the redness. Good god, man, I felt about ready to put up a small image of Chairman Mao, like above Tiananmen Gate. It took -- I kid you not -- a full day and a half to recede. And the aesthetician's assertion that I had "large pores" and "a little bleeding is normal" did nothing to take away from my the ambivalence to the state of my poor lady-planet.
The redness did fade in time. And then oh, what fun there was to be had. When asked his opinion, Mr. Tungsten wryly quipped "It's growing on me." After I hit him in the shoulder he ammended: "I'm liking it, yes."
Still, I'm not sure about this as a regular grooming activity.
It was at the local place where they do my toes. They know me there and always ask about the pupster, who usually gets at least one walk past the salon per diem. Since patronizing the salon on a regular basis (thank you, regular paycheque) Ive discovered that manicures don't last long and are only useful if I'm going somewhere special. Pedicures, however, are not only a bargain but in SoCal almost a summer necessity. For crying out loud -- we live in a desert. Some hydration for the toeses, please.
Anyway, I've avoided waxing in past because of the reported pain. But the idea of being silky smooth for a week at a time really appeals. Bikini lines are an order of magnitude harder to shave than pits or legs. Plus the bumps of regrowth (ladies, you know what I mean) are annoying. So I waited for the right day, popped a couple of acetaminophen, and hied myself thither.
The lady was familiar and nice. And the pain was actually not that bad. But nobody ever told me about the redness. Good god, man, I felt about ready to put up a small image of Chairman Mao, like above Tiananmen Gate. It took -- I kid you not -- a full day and a half to recede. And the aesthetician's assertion that I had "large pores" and "a little bleeding is normal" did nothing to take away from my the ambivalence to the state of my poor lady-planet.
The redness did fade in time. And then oh, what fun there was to be had. When asked his opinion, Mr. Tungsten wryly quipped "It's growing on me." After I hit him in the shoulder he ammended: "I'm liking it, yes."
Still, I'm not sure about this as a regular grooming activity.