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received via email:
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> > All methods have tricked me with their promises of easy, painless
> > removal - the Epilady, the standard razor, the scissors, the Nair, the
> > EpilStop, and now The Wax. My night began as any other normal weekday
> > night. I came home from work, fixed dinner for my son and we played for
> > a while. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for
> > the next couple hours: maybe I should use that wax in my medicine
> > cabinet.
> >
> > I set my boy up with a video and head to the site of my demise, um, I
> > mean bathroom. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of
> > hot wax, you just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart,
> > press it on your leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising
> > crescendo of string instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss. How
> > hard can this be?
> >
> > I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm mechanically inclined so
> > maybe I can figure out how this works. You'd think. So I pull one of the
> > thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other, stuck together. I'm
> > supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the wax (I'm guessing).
> > I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer and heat the SOB to ten
> > thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ass. (Oh, how that phrase will come back
> > to haunt me.) I lay the strip across my thigh.
> > I hold the skin around it and pull. OK, so it wasn't the best feeling in
> > the world, but it wasn't bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer
> > eludes me!
> >
> > I am Sheera, fighter of all wayward body hair and smooth skin
> > extraordinaire! With my next wax strip, I move north. After checking on
> > the boy and verifying that he was, in fact, becoming one with Bear and
> > learning all about smells, I sneak into the bathroom for The Ultimate
> > Hair Fighting Championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the
> > toilet. Using the same procedure, I then apply the wax strip across the
> > right side on my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and
> > stretching up into the inside of the right butt cheek. (Yeah, it was a
> > long strip.) I inhale deeply. I brace myself.
> >
> >
> > RRRIIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind! Blind from the pain!
> >
> >
> > Vision returning. Oh crud. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the
> > strip. Another deep breath. And RIIIP! Everything is swirly and
> > tie-dyed. Do I hear crashing drums? OK, coming back to normal again.
> > I want to see my trophy - my wax covered pelt that caused me so much
> > agony. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I
> > hold the wax strip like an Olympic gold medalist. But why is there no
> > hair on it? Why is the wax mostly gone? Where could the wax go, if not
> > on the strip? Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the
> > toilet. I see hair - the hair that should be on the strip.
> >
> > I touch. I feel. I am touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently
> > shout "nooooooo!!" And realize I have just begun living my own personal
> > version of "The Tar Baby." I peel my fingers off the softest, most
> > sensitive part of my body that is now covered in cold wax and matted
> > hair, and make the next big mistake - up until this point, you'll
> > remember, I've had my foot on the toilet. I know I need to move, to do
> > something. So I put my foot down on the floor. And then I hear the
> > slamming of the cell door. Vagina? Sealed shut. Butt?
> > Sealed shut.
> >
> > A little voice in my head says "I hope you don't have to poop anytime
> > soon. Your head just might pop off." I penguin-walk around the bathroom
> > trying desperately to figure out what I should do next. Hot water! Hot
> > water melts wax! I'll run the hottest water I can stand and get in - the
> > wax should melt and I can gently wipe it away, right?
> >
> > Wrong. I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than is used to
> > torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment.
> > And I sit. Now the only thing worse than having your goodies glued
> > together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a
> > tub?in scalding hot water, which, by the way, does not melt the cold
> > wax. So now I'm stuck to the tub.
> >
> > I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty school so
> > surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin.
> > It's never good to start a conversation with "So my butt and vagina are
> > stuck to the tub." She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to
> > suppress laughter. She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the
> > butt. "Are we talking cheek or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even
> > trying to hide the giggles now. I give her the run-down of the entire
> > night. She tells me to call the number on the side of the box. but to
> > have a good cover story for where the wax actually is. "You know that if
> > we were working the help line at XX Wax Co. and somebody called with
> > their entire crack sealed shut we'd just put them on hold then record
> > the conversation for everyone we know. You're going to end up on a radio
> > show or the internet if you tell them the truth." While we go through
> > various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the wax off with a razor.
> > Boy, nothing feels better to the girly goodies than covering them in
> > wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and THEN dry shaving the
> > sticky wax off!
> >
> > In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to
> > other subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is the
> > lotion provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start
> > screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations
> > from C and we hang up. I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to
> > my dismay, that the hair is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff
> > off. Heck, I was numb by that point anyway.
> > And then I put the box of wax back in my medicine cabinet. Never know
> > when a moustache might start to come in.
> >
> > Tonight, I attempt hair dying.
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