wax on, wax off
I am writing to you now less hairy than I was yesterday. I went in for a wax. A different girl serviced me. She was pretty but an inch thick foundation worked hard to hide her obvious flaws. This comforted me; proving imperfect beauty exists. I like that. I'm in that club . . . I think.
No real conversation. Just a bit of weather talk here and there. Because my pubes are straight she was curious as to my ethnicity. Turns out Asian hair comes out the cleanest, but regardless of this fact it still hurts like a motherfucker.
Why do I do this?
Simple.
I am vain.
Darling-dear isn't a fan of the full Brazilian so just my bikini this time -- I'm sure he'll be more than happy with my little triangle. The X loved the smoothness. However, the prepubescent look does not please my curremt honey. I really like that boyfriend prefers a more mature look for my Australia.
Legs tonight.
Comments
I'm an imperfect beauty.
... Anyways, that's what I tell myself everyday.
I don't hide my imperfections with make-up though.
Mostly because I don't really wear make-up.
Hmmm. Ok. So I was thinking about getting a brazilian someday, but the pain is just WAY too much for me to handle, I do believe.
Bikini wax -- I could probably survive.
Maybe.
Well, I am masochistic. But that's more with my emotions... not so much with physical pain.
I just might find me a place to get a bikini wax.
Once I have a steadier income and all.
Totally need to save up some money.. you bitch. Always rubbing your awesome-ness in my face.
Considering what is being discussed and my unusually high sex drive lately "... rubbing your awesomeness in my face" sounded extremely dirty.
Yeah, I'm a perv. But I had to share the inner workings of my brain with you.