I have mentioned before that I have some strong genetic links to a hobbit. I have little tufts of hair on my fingers, my toes and other parts of my body that are best not mentioned.
I also hate shaving, not just a bit, but really a lot. I just do not have the time. The odds of me in a leisurely shower taking time to shave is pretty much non-existent, I can count the times on my one hand when I have had a bath alone in the last two months, so shaving is an event in my house.
Part of the reason that I really do not make the time, is that it a pointless exercise for me. If I shave now, by tomorrow morning I will have stubble, and by tomorrow evening full 5 o’clock shadow across my legs and other regions.
I cannot quite express how bad the situation is, without showing you pictures – and even I realise in doing that will be crossing a line that neither of us will be able to return from.
Though the hair on my head if reasonably light, the hair on my body has a distinct Mediterranean feel about it. The only redeeming characteristic is that I do not have hair on my back. One sometimes has to be reminded of the small things to be thankful for.
To cut a long story short, I am over the idea of shaving, and have opted out of it for a bit now.
It does nothing for me and actually just wastes my time. I have chosen to live a non-shaved life for about a month plus. It has had limits on my wardrobe and I live in fear of being involved in some sort of traffic accident and them taking me to hospital, while I am unconscious.
At least if I was conscious I would be able to explain why my bikini area looks the way it does, but lying there immobile, is not going to do me any favours and I know there will be photos on YouTube with captions.
Once the hair situation gets to a certain level, you really do start caring less, because it just is so ridiculous and you realise the time it is going to take to shave through the forest you have cultivated.
I went for a run/stumble last night. Kennith asked me if I experienced much wind resistance as he looked at the mountain gorilla hair on my legs. My leg hair was sort of curling over my socks – even with my rather low standards, I realise that is not something that should be allowed.
I was hoping to just stop caring, but I am not quite there yet – so all is not lost quite yet.
I have an appointment with Vera for tomorrow morning at 7am. So while you are snuggly wrapped up in your duvet, or having your first bowel movement of the morning, think of me as Vera stands and pours hot wax on my nether regions and pulls it out. Hair, roots and all, with all her might.
My friend Alice has been trying to convince me to have a Brazilian (the wax, rather than a person who was birthed in Brazil) and have Vera do it. Alice suggested taking two Syndols and I would not feel anything. I am sure even after two Syndols I will feel someone taking the hair by the roots outta my crack, unless Syndols have got really good lately. But with that in mind, I will stop and grab a crate after fetching kids from school this afternoon.
I got strangely suspicious of Vera as she appeared to get more excited the more I explained how much hair I have. But I made the appointment and there we are – I am already getting all nervous. I know there is going to be crying and screaming.
I can’t promise you before and after photos – though I am tempted to do them. I might not even blog tomorrow as I may need to be hospitalized for trauma, but that is what I have planned for 7am tomorrow morning.
What have you got on?