I am naturally oblivious to many things, and often find myself in that SPECIAL (said with Church Lady voice) situation of being the "last to know," or the last person to "get it." Growing up, I had no idea anyone had crushes on me until one of my friends told me, I was awful at all of the card games that required strategy, and I was always the highstrung victim of practical jokes.
My situational perception delays are, at least I hope, one of my most endearing quirks. They also manifest themselves in other ways. For instance, I am one of the very few people I know who does own a Tivo. I never plan on buying an iPhone. I like my routine and my life a particular way, and sometimes that hinders my development in odd and unexpected ways.
Like tonight, I gave in to what (apparently) many of my friends have already experienced.
Facial waxing. Seriously.
(Male readers, this is where the TMI kicks in - if you couldn't handle the deodorant post from last week, you'll want to navigate to another page right about now).
In preparation for Sean's company holiday party, I decided to bite the bullet and finally see what all the fuss was about. I've been growing increasingly impatient with my genetic predisposition towards chin hair, and set out to do something about it. So I got some strategic waxing done in a couple places, and hwa-BAM!
It's unlike anything I've ever felt in my entire life. One hour later, I still couldn't really feel my upper lip and I couldn't stop touching my chin. WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY HERE IS THAT IT'S SO DAMN BIZARRE.
How do you people do this regularly?! It's weird! And walking around outside was a treat - I've never felt quite so raw and exposed. It was as if I'd ripped off my pants and exposed my girly bits to all of the frigid pedestrians on Michigan Avenue. I felt every breeze acutely, and the snow was like little needles jabbing me in the face.
And the worst part? I think I might actually like the results. Which of course means I'm going to have to continue to do this whole "hair maintenance" bullshit. DAMMIT.
My situational perception delays are, at least I hope, one of my most endearing quirks. They also manifest themselves in other ways. For instance, I am one of the very few people I know who does own a Tivo. I never plan on buying an iPhone. I like my routine and my life a particular way, and sometimes that hinders my development in odd and unexpected ways.
Like tonight, I gave in to what (apparently) many of my friends have already experienced.
Facial waxing. Seriously.
(Male readers, this is where the TMI kicks in - if you couldn't handle the deodorant post from last week, you'll want to navigate to another page right about now).
In preparation for Sean's company holiday party, I decided to bite the bullet and finally see what all the fuss was about. I've been growing increasingly impatient with my genetic predisposition towards chin hair, and set out to do something about it. So I got some strategic waxing done in a couple places, and hwa-BAM!
It's unlike anything I've ever felt in my entire life. One hour later, I still couldn't really feel my upper lip and I couldn't stop touching my chin. WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY HERE IS THAT IT'S SO DAMN BIZARRE.
How do you people do this regularly?! It's weird! And walking around outside was a treat - I've never felt quite so raw and exposed. It was as if I'd ripped off my pants and exposed my girly bits to all of the frigid pedestrians on Michigan Avenue. I felt every breeze acutely, and the snow was like little needles jabbing me in the face.
And the worst part? I think I might actually like the results. Which of course means I'm going to have to continue to do this whole "hair maintenance" bullshit. DAMMIT.
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