Thursday 31 July 2014

Losing my Brazilian Virginity

Good morning everyone!

As I approach forty there are a number of new things that I am wanting to try and experience and I am wasting no time getting things done.  For instance, I wanted to learn to run and run a race (completed June 2014), I wanted to get my ass in shape to wear my bikini on a cruise and feel good (completed November 2013; however, gained back some fat and I am working at getting rid of it for the next cruise), eat better and exercise regularly (in progress).  I am pleased with my progress with my long list of things that I want to do/focus on but there remains a number of things that I have yet to complete and moving from shaving to waxing was one of them.

You see, during the past 38 years I have managed to maintain a high level of grooming in the privacy of my own home.  It wasn't until I exposed my private parts to complete strangers while giving birth that I would even consider asking some stranger to wax my vajayjay.  As my little blonde hairs became fuller and darker I started thinking more and more about taking the plunge and taking my vajayjay back to its former glory by waxing.  So, during the spa session that I blogged about yesterday I decided to finally take the plunge, here is what happened:

Daughter2 decided to bring along the iPad and the magazine and had her fingers crossed that there would be wifi and nobody else in the waiting room.  She was pleasantly surprised to see that she got her wish on both accounts.  I left her to her electronics and proceeded to follow my aesthetician to a private room with an exam table (without the stirrups) that you might find in a Dr's office although it had a white crisp linen on it.  To one side was the wax and in the centre of the exam table was a hand towel and a packet of baby wipes.  She turns to me and smiles and explains that I am to get nekked, I can freshen up with the wipes and then place the towel over my vajayjay.  I feel the need to expose my mental state to the lady and tell her that I am a waxing virgin and I am somewhat shy and ignorant about the process.  She assured me that she has taken many people's waxing virginity and reassures me that everything would be fine.  She exits the room and I am left alone with my fears and thoughts.

I remove my shorts and panties very slowly because I had received a 5.5 hour thigh tattoo the day before and my leg was sensitive.  I then look at the wipes and I place them to the side as I had just cleaned up before I arrived, I mean who wouldn't?  Then I start thinking… that is right, who wouldn't and yet they have the wipes there… so perhaps I should use a wipe just to make sure.  I take two because you can never be too clean.  I am feeling a little under the gun because I have taken too long so I give my privates a quick and rather forceful scrub, jump on the table and quickly throw the itty bitty towel (nearly the size of a facecloth) over my waxing area.  I made it just in time for the gentle knock to sound from the door.  She is here!  Let the waxing party begin!

So, in walks the lady and asks me to lay my right leg to the side.  Oh dear, that is the side of my healing tat and I know instantly that this was ill planned.  I should have gotten the wax yesterday and the tattoo today … oh well, here goes nothing.  The lady notices how gingerly I am relaxing my leg and takes greater notice of the tattoo that extends from my knee to my hip.  She says that if I can withstand that this waxing will be a breeze.  This makes me feel instantly like superwoman and I know that this will be nothing!  She dips her popsicle stick in the wax and lays out the first strip.  It is really warm but kinda feels nice and then she places the strip of cloth over it and without notice RIPS out my hair from deep down inside my inner leg.  I kinda chock but I think that it is not gonna be too bad… I mean, I have felt worse pain.  Oh was I SURPRISED when the next RIP came because that was not as tolerable.  I quickly ask her if she has a tattoo… to which she replied that she did not.  I then explained that the next lady who walks in full of tattoos should not be told that the tattooing will make the waxing feel like a walk in the park because, in fact, I would re-tattoo the tattoo from yesterday TODAY rather than to continue this session.  She giggles and explains that some areas are more sensitive than others.  INDEED they are and to my surprise the worse was yet to come!

So there I laid for about 15 minutes allowing this lady to torture me.  I moved my legs as I was instructed and listened to her tell me that it gets easier the more I do it.  That all these years of shaving has caused my follicles to enlarge and thus the additional pain. I then question why they don't give the client a popsicle stick to chop down on while they torture us and she just giggled.  What she clearly didn't understand was that I was serious.  Finally, she appears to be done and she asks me if I want it all done… what kind of a question is that?  Of course I do!  I am here aren't I?  I paid $50 for this misery and I want my money's worth.  So, she tells me to roll onto my tummy and I oblige.  Now she separates the cheeks of my booty and smudges hot wax in my crack.  I lay there wondering if my haemorrhoids are exposed and what would happen if hot wax gets down too far?  I am now somewhat mortified because after seven pregnancies and three live births I doubt that my rectum is as pretty as the young girls that she has seen.  Then I begin to question myself about why I wasn't concerned about my vajayjay not matching the young girls standards.  WHat is wrong with my brain, seriously!

Anyway, the booty waxing was the least painful and dare I say nearly pleasant after all the suffering she just put me through.  It is quick, just two strips and I think that she may have put powder there afterwards but I was still lost in thought about my ass not being beautiful from the point of view that she had.  She tells me we are done and I bounce off that table like tigger.  I stand proudly and look down and without any thought I exclaim, "I just paid $50 to have my beautiful vajayjay look like a plucked chicken?"  To my horror I have red bumps and stretch marks … that is right ladies, if you get as big as I did while pregnant and swollen to the point of unrecognizable proportions you get the battle scars forever, even in places you never expect.  I disappointedly put my panties and shorts back on while she explains that I should exfoliate and not to wait longer than 3 weeks for the next treatment.  After 4 treatments it should hurt less or I should be more accustomed to it.

So today I am typing this entry with a pretty, yet stretch marked vajayjay and am perfectly smooth EVERYWHERE.  Will I endure it again?  HELL YA!  I mean, if I don't all of that would have been for nothing.  Will I have it ALL removed again?  NOPE!  Next time I am leaving a little to give it a little character while hiding some of the battle wounds.  I have decided that I will do it four times and if it gets easier I will continue but if not, I will abandon the idea.

Now, I have a question for you all… do guys get their testies waxed?  What are your experiences with waxing?  Let me know that I am not alone in this :P

Facing Forty bald :)

Wednesday 30 July 2014

Why am I so Annoyed?

Good morning everyone!

This morning, like every other, I wake up like I go to bed; feeling annoyed and well, tired.  Why is it that everything and everyone seems irked or unsatisfied with me and I am annoyed at them?  What I used to let roll off my back seems to be causing a great deal of stress in my life.  I piss my family off at least once a day, my children seem to be talking back more (or perhaps my awareness has just been heightened), even my Mom got upset with me two days ago for not serving dinner on time and being insensitive to their need to leave my home at a certain time (and I am still hanging on to her dismay).  Is it just me or does one become the single most disappointing female in the world when you reach your mid-thirties?  I just can not seem to be able to please anyone; however, everything that I do seems to provoke a rise out of everyone.  

Here is a common scenario in my home these days:

(me): I have booked a day for us at the spa sweetie so you and I can have some mother-daughter time and be pampered a bit.

(daughter2): Well Mom, what time is it going to be at?

(me) 1:30 for me and you are at 1:45

(daughter2):  What do you want me to do for the 15 minutes before my treatment?  Is there going to be internet?  Can I take the iPad?  Is there internet?  Will you be done at the same time as me?  Is there internet?

(me): Seriously?  What are you going to do?  Why don't you choose one of your many electronic devices and bring it along or, better yet, a magazine?  Why do you need internet with all the movies/music and games you have on that iPad?  Just bring something that is going to keep you busy and it is time to relax so may I suggest the book I just bought you or a magazine and leave the electronics at home.

(daughter2): Well, how long do I have to wait after?  Do I have to wait there?  Will there be other people there?

(me): OMG!  What is wrong with this picture?  I have treated YOU to a pedicure and all you can think of is if you may have to share a waiting room with someone WITHOUT the use of internet?  Can you not appreciate the fact that we are doing this together?  Can you not go 2 hours without the internet?  SERIOUSLY

(daughter2): ALRIGHT!  I was JUST asking!

Why does a simple and thoughtful moment have to turn into an argument?  I never had the opportunity to do any of those things with my Mom when I was young and if she took me to the grocery store with her I would never have even considered asking her what time we planned on being home and how might I be able to waste time while waiting for her.  I would have went and just pretended to enjoy it and in doing so I always seemed to find enjoyment.  So, my question is… is there something wrong with me or do I have a right to be angry?

The truth is, I hate being angry and annoyed all the time.  I just want to be happy again or was it just being oblivious… whatever it was, I want it back!!

Facing forty annoyed!!

Monday 28 July 2014

Where to start?

Good afternoon everyone in the blogsphere.  My intentions with this blog is to anonymously document the realities of this nearly forty year old woman and my trials and tribulations.  I can sometimes be funny (by my measure), sometimes inappropriate (ok, often inappropriate) and ALWAYS truthful.  I will walk you though my journey as I face the milestone of turning 40 in August of 2015 and I won't even mind that you all are laughing at my expense, actually take a moment and tell me about it… I'd love to know that you are reading.

So, why the decision to write the blog anyway?

It happened today as my girlfriends and I were enjoying a liquid lunch (which is beginning to happen more and more) and I was sharing my personal experience of losing my Brazilian-waxing virginity this past week.  They were laughing and told me that I could write a column with all the crazy things that I have done this past year and continue to do and THAT is where the inception of a blog began and then Chick Fighting Forty was born!  I am not sure that I will tell them about the blog… not unless I don't get readers based on interest and merit.  That is when I may resolve to sending out the link to all my friends just so I know that SOMEONE is reading.  Please don't make me do that because they have heard most of my stories already and really I am intending them for YOU not those who know me.  Besides, as I mentioned earlier, this is supposed to be an anonymous blog.

Thanks for reading and I hope to keep you coming back to read often.

Keep Fighting with grace,

CFF