I had a revelation a few months back. I was getting all prettied up to go out and realized that the upkeep on my facial hair had gone by the wayside. One of the many groomings neglected post partum. I didn't have time to wax, nor did I want the redness so without even hesitating I grabbed my disposable and with a few short strokes my stache was history-for now. I had no more than washed the razor off and placed it back on its perch in the shower when the burn set in followed by shame. THE SHAME burned worse than the burn itself. What had I just done? Did I really just shave my mustache? The thicker than fuzz that I had kept fairly tidy over the years since developing the manly trait had just eloped onto a blade meant for legs and I wanted to cry hard. I called one of my bestest friends ever with whom I share the hair bond (she's half Chilean) and spilled to her what I had just done and the despair I now far from reveled in. She laughed. I sulked. Then like she so often does, she found the pot of gold at the end of my bic. "Think of it as a prep for laser hair removal because that is something you have to do before getting it done." Aha! Perfect! Now all's I gotta do is commit to that laser. I looked into it and was immediately intimidated by the cost of a smooth upper lip. And as my lip continued to suffer razor burn, I put my hair free hopes on the back burner.
Until now. Uncle Sam was good to me this year. A plus for being unwed with child. I did a little research and found a couple of places to consult. Both places molested me with calls and emails but one called Permanent Choice appeared to impress so I set up a consult. It was located in Apple Valley, a good 20 minutes from my house so I left with plenty of time to spare. I had semi-prepped for this consult by not tweezing or waxing for a couple of weeks and a lovely upper lip it was not. As I pulled up to the economony stricken new development with multiple FOR RENT and OFFICE SPACE AVAIL signs in painted neon, I questioned my decision for a second. Then I heard my mom telling me not to judge a book by its cover, or something like that so I went in and climbed up and entered through. A very sociable woman with just okay skin greeted me and brought me directly back to the laser room to sing me her unwanted hair song and I started to dance. Let's do this. Right here, right now. I signed a paper or two (wrongly dated..oops) and relaxed as the mag mirror hovered over my face. My god, what she must see with that thing. Is that why she has not so great skin? Because she has access to a mirror that magnifies every little pore and blemish and hair and yuck to be seen? Moving forward I was shaved once again. Now I was glad I had experience a shave prior to this because had I not I might have cried right there on the chair in front of this nice laser lady. The probe zapped and the hair was stanky. If you've ever lit your bangs on fire trying to light a cig on a stovetop you know the smell. It was quick and painless, save for the anticipation of the little zaps and smells.
In six weeks I will return for another treatment. I have some stubbles right now that should fall out or "brush off" which is just the follicle dying and the hair being forced out or something. I can't tweeze or wax or tan. I'm going to AZ in April and the latter might be difficult but SPF 30 will be my friend, at least on my face. I have to say I'm very glad I finally went to battle with the follicular fillers that menace my upper lip. I'm looking forward to not worrying every time the sun is shining on my face and someone is looking at me. No longer will I wonder if my man can feel the regrowth after waxing. Of course, he'd rather I focus on other hairy areas, but hey, I can cover those.
When I got home I checked the messages on the home phone, one of which was from the other laser place I had considered. A nice lady on the wire said something along the lines of "please call us back immediately regarding a contest you entered online". Go figure. I got "burned" for grabbing the razor too quickly once again.
It’s us, but in dead animal form. But not really dead because they weren’t ever alive. Undead? No. That makes them sound like vampires. So not that. Fuck. I don’t know the word. Hey, how long can a title be? Because this seems excessive. Someone should stop me. Jesus. This is as bad as 280-character twitter.
1 day ago