The days are getting longer, the weather warmer. Soon shorts will be popping up like the bulbs in my front yard. And nothing makes a girl feel sexier during this season than smooth, beautiful legs that are ready for the beaches. Wanting to feel a little more sassy, I bought a waxing kit from Wal-mart complete with tongue depressors, sheets of paper, and paraffin wax.
b.a.d. i.d.e.a.
I started with my underarms since I thought I could muscle through two strips without chickening out. First one.... RRRRRIIIIIPPPPPP. And the words still echo in my mind, for though they came from me, I never knew I could speak in tongues. it was something along the lines of Oh Holy Night mixed with By The Power Of Greyskull.
Okay, that's a scorching red right there, as I stare at my sad, hurt armpit. But I thought I can quit now or power through. Just power through, Jackie.
Underarm torture take 2: and ACTION!
Dip, smear, apply strip.
Pause.
"You can do this, you can do this, you can do this," I chant to myself as the piece of paper starts to quickly fasten to the hair and work its way down to the live layer of skin. As I move my free hand into death grip position, I notice something. hmm. I can't lift up my arm I just waxed. What the... oh no.
no.no.no.no.no.
In my hurry, I forgot to use the "soothing oil" after the first strip, and it hits me that I didn't get all of the wax off from the first try. my right armpit is NOW GLUED SHUT.
Panicking, I hop in the shower as I tear off the second strip (MOTHER!) and start dumping the body wash all over my underarms, which seems to loosen the skin stuck together, but now the wax is melting under the heat of the warm water, and spreading and is not coming off at all with vigorous scrubbing and soap. Towel, I think.
nope, not the answer. As the wax cools off from exiting the shower, the towel now becomes one massive furry paper strip. Towel glued to armpit x 2, I finally read the directions to discover that the oil is the way to remove extra wax. I dig through the box, towel draped across chest and securely fastened to body sans safety pins/clips/buttons, to discover this ity-bity bottle of oil, and I just start pouring. worked like a charm. in the aftermath I could somewhat recognize the remnants of what should be the skin under the arms, along the thorax, and even part of the skin around the biceps.
and now I'm pissed. No way in hell some smart-a box is gonna win this battle. I reheat the wax and start on the leg, determined to finish.
Well 3/4 of one leg later, I finally had enough. And since I used the entire bottle of oil during the arm fiasco, I resorted to PAM cooking spray to remove the stubborn tidbits of dried wax sculpted to my poor red leg.
AND SCENE.
