Do it Yourself Brazillian

November 30, 2007

I had the single most painful experience today, entirely self-inflicted. Sunday afternoon, not much going on, kinda bored…so what else would I do but head to Walgreen’s and buy Sally Hanson’s Extra Strength Brazilian Bikini Waxing and Shaping Kit. Sure, I could have just spent my evening watching a movie and had a professional do the waxing another day, but I wanted to do it right then. Oh, hindsight.

It started out good. I was really impressed with how well it worked. Hair was coming off right and left! And it was painful, but not terrible. So I was feeling very proud of myself and thinking to myself what weenies everyone must be who complains about how terrible waxing is. I’m a waxing virgin, so I didn’t really know what to expect as far as pain goes. And so far, I didn’t think it was that bad…until I got a little closer in. See, the directions said to work from the outside and move in…well the far away areas aren’t that bad to do.

However, as I soon found out, things are a little more sensitive…you know where. Jesus fucking Christ. I thought I was going to fucking die. My impatience added to the problem, because it was a long process and so as it went along I wanted it to hurry up, so I started trying to do slightly larger sections than the directions advised and I started to not be so particular about which direction the hair grew. Bad, Bad ideas. This is not an area to do a half-ass job or hurry along. (this isn’t just in the case of waxing, taking time and doing a good job is pretty important regardless of what a person is doing down there, but that’s a different topic). So basically I almost died this afternoon… half-naked, covered in wax knowing that the only option was to man up and rip it off. Oh my god. And I wish I could say that all the pain paid off. I had to quit. I really couldn’t pull any more.
I was apologizing to my girl, telling her I’m so sorry that I put her though all this pain and now she is just a spackled mess. So I am going to have to do it again tomorrow. There is only so much pain I can tolerate in one day. But there is only so long I can tolerate looking like I have the mange down there. Tomorrow I will be more prepared…a bottle of wine, a few extra strength ibuprofen and I should be good to go. And hopefully, one day I will accept that there are certain things I don’t need to do myself. But I just haven’t learned that lesson yet, despite many, many opportunities.

Posted in The Chronicles of Memphis