Saturday, December 18, 2004

A Most Unfortunate Event

(Speaking of unfortunate events, we saw a Viacommunist screening of "A Series of Unfortunate Events" on Wednesday. It was okay -- if i were nine, I probably would have adored it. Nifty production design, though).

(Wow, that's damning with faint praise. That's like trying to set someone up with a person you'd describe as "having a great personality.")

So I decided today that it was time for yet another bikini wax. Not in preparation of a hot date or anything, just because. And, MAN, am I embarassed. It's all gone. I am a bear-without-any-hair. A bare, hairless bear. All I knew was that the waxing hurt a bit more than usual and I looked down and to see a sight I haven't seen since I was about eleven. Yikes.

I'm totally mortified. This is not a choice I would choose to make. Luckily, there ain't no one getting into my pants these days, but if there were, how would I explain that? Like, let's say we're fooling around for the first time and the unbuttoning-of-the-pants moment starts to happen and I'll have to stop and say, "WAIT. I must warn you. I am not the type of girl who goes for pornstar-riffic genital hairstyling, and I didn't instruct the waxer to do this, but I have no hair-down-there and it might freak you out a bit. Heavens to Betsy, I know it freaks me out."

That's a lot of splaining to do. Not as much splaining as I'd imagine one has to do if one has the herpes or something, but still and all -- I have to put a disclaimer on disrobing.

The term Hair-down-there reminds me of a story I once read in Cricket magazine about a girl who lived at the edge of a forest somewhere in Germany, and she knew there was a boar who lived in the woods and she would stand at her backdoor, thinking "Boar out there."

For some reason, that phrase has stuck with me and I often find myself thinking "boar out there" whenever I'm facing the very great unknown.

Boar out there. Bare down there. Boar out bare. Bear down, boar!

Anyhoodles. Last night was our department xmas party and it was fun. Lots of drunken dancing, which is always my very most favorites. More drunken dancing, please! More rich, chocolatey Ovaltine, please!

Note: today is the first day in two months that I have not (as yet)consumed soup. However! I am going out for dinner and I hope there will be soup in my near future; oh, how I love soup. Soup soup soup.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Speaking as a guy and stuff, and since I am a guy it's good that I'm speaking as one. Bare down there isn't a cause for paniced warnings. Usually it's a cause for dirty smilings and flirty stylings. Unless of course they lady is built like I should be checking for id. Then it could cause panic. And following the tangent of Soup, I made a killer turkey soup the other day, and am making a creamy tomato basil tomorrow, I shall eat a bowl for Bex, and it shall be Bexxes Bowl. And my wife shall think I'm insaine.

And on a completely unrelated note, I followed you over from Something Positive, and just have one thing to say. You rock, makes me want to make an account on this blogger just so I won't be Anon-y-moose anymore.

Charles Wells