Wax on Wax off

WARNING- THIS POST WILL CONTAIN WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION

I am a firm believer that shaving is definitely not necessary. I am fully aware that having legs that resemble a bears' is not attractive but come on now what were tights invented for if not to hide away the monsters on brisk sunday mornings? I hate to admit it, but I can't remember the last time I pulled out that old, familiar pink razor and went to work on the girls. It was before Thanksgiving. I realize most people have just thrown up in their mouths a little but I live in the freaking North Pole. I would freeze to death without some fur. In my defense, I have been blessed with fine, blonde hairs that really aren't noticable and I think I pulled off the hairiness with little complaint from the men or my roommates. Once I got passed the awkward stage where it rubs against your jeans and your pretty sure that it is some form of ancient Chinese torture, it was all uphill. I had a little secret that few knew and no one understood. Like all good things, it had to come to an end, though.

There is really nothing more exhilarating than waxing your legs at quarter to midnight. Screams were stifled, tears were flowing, and the jungle was deforested. I measured a little hair and it came to like a fourth of an inch. That is revolting. I'm a little bit disgusted but totally impressed. I honestly won't be able to wear pants for a day or two considering the immense pain my little hair follicles are experiencing, but it was so worth it. I have won major woman points. Ladies, I implore you, LIVE A LITTLE! Give it a try. I'm 98 percent sure your life will change if not your outlook on shaving. Give it up for Nair.