Cactus Panties {Brazillian Wax recap}
A week ago, I was ready to sing the praises of the Brazilian wax. I had gone through all of the comments on my Raw Chicken post via email, and felt that maybe I had led all of you in the wrong direction. Maybe I had judged my raw chicken too quickly. Perhaps I was just blinded by the pain to really weigh the benefits of the raw chicken. I even alluded to just how "o"-mazing the benefits of the wax could be (multiple times over if you catch my drift) in my Vegas recap post. So I felt like I needed to come back and do what my BF called an Editors Revision. Because I will always tell it to you straight. I will always be completely honest.
And honestly I woke up two days ago with a cactus between my legs.
For the love of all things holy. Remember when I said that I got waxed in places I didn't know had hair? Well guess what, that hair is coming back. And it's angry. It's exacting revenge. It's making me hate the idea of the Brazilian Wax all over again.
I feel like my vajay has multiple personalities at this point. First she hates the Brazilian. Then a few days in she loves it. Now we are back to the hate. Regardless, I will forever stand by the fact that the wax itself feels like hot molten lava on your lady bits. Apparently according to Heather on this post at Baby Central Blogs, the wax should be warm, and not scalding. Could it be I just had a bad wax experience? Maybe. But just remember no matter how hot the lava, that shit still has to get ripped off. You will also have to do some crazy yoga acrobatics, and your aesthetician will almost give you a PAP. All of those facts together make it quite the experience for you and your vajay.
These 5 facts I uncovered about the Brazilian Wax are still true:
One: Bitches who say Brazilian waxes aren't that bad are liars.
Two: People who do wax vajays in such a way should also be licensed to do pap smears.
I mean, when in Rome...
Three: Neither my husband nor my OBGYN have gone to the places the waxing lady went to on Tuesday. Like seriously I didn't even know there was hair there.
Four: Brazilian wax literally means from your belly button to your tail bone. Hence the downward facing dog requirement.
Five: Brazilian waxes were invented by bored rich white women who needed another beauty treatment to add to their routine. They are also the women who bleach their butt holes.
Now I will admit that the Brazilian has it's benefits. I didn't have to worry about my bikini line. Or any line for that matter. It made the husband very happy. Very happy. Like shop in Vegas, let's get a limo, let's pretend we are in college happy. It made my vagina happy. For reals. The wax hurt like a bitch because that area is very sensitive. Well take away the buffer of hair, and that area is like infinity times more sensitive. My vagina was as blissful as her formerly 22 year old self. She forgot how fun she could be. So despite the pain, I was completely on board to do it all over again.
Until two days ago. My gal Kristin asked me if the itching had started. Uh, yeah. And there is nothing graceful or lady like about itchy vajay. Feeling like I'm sitting on a cactus pillow, is serious business. It taint nothing to joke about. Ok, that was a cheap way to make you laugh, but it's what I really wanted to title this post. Then I remembered I'm a classy lady, if only in my mind.
So I'm sorry if I steered you all in the wrong direction. Brazilian waxes are still the biggest conspiracy in the the history of vaginas. At least in my opinion. I have decided to stick by my original stance and say that I hate them, and they are the devil. And I don't really believe that women actually like them, they just tolerate them for their benefits. That said, I'm scheduling my next one. No I'm not crazy, but I like the benefits. The Hubbs likes the benefits. I'm way too lazy to DIY this kind of shaz. I'm also hoping it won't always be so bad (regardless of the downward facing dog). And finally I'm going back for another, because despite my vajay's outward appearance, she feels like a new woman.
Until then I'll be over here with my arm up my maxi dress.
Like the classy bitch I am.
