Sarah: He apparently hasn't seen the picture of me and Mal kissing.

T: Wow, this guy just sat down next to me and has WAY too much cheap aftershave on. Suddenly the world seems much less sexual. I think I'm getting high from his smelliness.
S: Lol. If you get the urge to do double finger guns at someone, LEAVE THE AREA IMMEDIATELY. I hear that's what an overabundance of cheap aftershave will do to a person.
T: That's good stuff, Dude. Those are the kinds of comments that make me want to read your blog.

Lisa: Wax On

Factoid: it is surprisingly difficult to take a picture of your own eye. But aren't my brows fabulous?

Today on my lunch hour I went to the spa for a bit of judicious waxing, and I got to thinking about why more people don't wax. Here are the common obstacles I see:

1) It hurts.

Well, yes. It does hurt. BUT BEAUTY IS PAIN. No, I'm just kidding--if it was too painful, obviously it wouldn't be worth doing. Look at it this way: have you ever groomed your brows with tweezers? You know how much it hurts when you pluck just one hair? Well (and if you haven't waxed, you'll just have to trust me on this), if you yank out a whole section of hairs at once, it hurts about the same amount as plucking just that one hair.

Admittedly, most of us do not go after our bikini lines with tweezers, and that skin is certainly more sensitive--but what's the alternative? Shaving, with the associated razor burn and immediate prickly regrowth? Waxing the bikini line hurts, a lot, for about one second per cloth. That's six to ten seconds of pain, total, for two weeks of clean skin. Compare that to one or two days of clean skin followed by a week of itchy discomfort.

There's also anecdotal evidence that each time you wax, it hurts less. I don't know if that's from gradual desensitization, or because there's less hair to deal with each time (pulling hair out by the root often damages the root and a new hair won't grow there), or if it's just less scary because you know what to expect. Your mileage may vary.

1.5) Something will go wrong and it will RIP OFF MY SKIN/BURN ME/AIIIIIIIEEEE!!!!

Well, I guess if you were bleaching your own hair you could potentially give your scalp a chemical burn and your hair would all fall out. This is why we leave it to the professionals. Your waxer should be a licensed aesthetician who has gone through hundreds of hours of classroom training and clinical application.

2) I don't want someone else all "up in my business."

Okay. That can be kind of uncomfortable--but it's not as bad as going to the gynecologist. For one, you get to keep your panties on. And your waxer will be super professional; if she wasn't, she wouldn't get any repeat business.

2.5) I am embarassed to have a stranger see what I look like.

Trust me, your waxer has had clients who are much fatter and hairier than you are. Also, if you DO wax, those areas will look better and you'll be less insecure the next time!

3) It costs money.

Yes, services cost money. Just as you can dye your own hair or paint your own nails, you can wax your own brows or whatever area suits your fancy. There's going to be a quality tradeoff, though, due to inferior commercially available products, a lack of expertise, and your not being a contortionist. Also, I personally have never had the guts to do my own waxing--but a stranger won't chicken out before ripping off that strip!

Any hair-removal regime is going to cost something, whether it's razors and shaving cream, depilatory cream, or waxing supplies. You have to decide if the benefits of going to a professional are worth a few more dollars from your budget.

4A) My brows look fine naturally.

Yeah, maybe they do. But...they could look better. Even if you stay with your natural shape, there will be hairs that are "outside the lines." Get closer to the mirror. Yes, other people can see those. Brows are one of the most overlooked facial features, but one that can make a huge difference to the appearance of your eyes and your whole face. An aesthetician can help you determine a brow shape that will flatter your face, and will help you achieve that shape without overplucking.

4B) No one sees my bikini area anyway.

Maybe no one sees you naked. But what if you get invited to go swimming or hot-tubbing? What if you get in a car accident and the doctors have to cut off your clothes?

More importantly, YOU see your bikini area. Just like wearing pretty underwear that no one else sees, you will know when you are well groomed and you'll feel sexier and more confident. Plus, that pretty underwear will look even prettier without unsightly hair sticking out of it.

And...ladies, it must be said: if you are married or in a committed sexual relationship, then sack up. Your husband/boyfriend sees your bikini area, and even though he loves you no matter what, he will appreciate your grooming efforts. Keep the romance alive!

4C) Only sluts wax their bikini lines.

No. Clean and well-groomed women who have respect for their bodies and take care of them wax their bikini lines. You don't have to go Brazilian, and you don't have to shave in your boyfriend's initials. Your lady bits are not inherently dirty. Admitting that you have a bikini area and taking proper care of it doesn't mean you're showing it to all the boys.

4D) I am a dirty hippie.

I can't help you there.

Lisa: Bored Now

I think the girls are getting tired of me taking their pictures at Crown Burger every week. Does that mean I will stop? NEVER.

Lisa: M-F-E-O

Lisa: I think I need more Tim Gunn in my life.
Sarah: Hee. Don't. We. All.
Lisa: In my head I just imagined his voice saying "Where's Andrae?" and I started giggling.
Sarah: Andrae= googley-head, which adds hilarity.
Lisa: TOTALLY. I think Tim Gunn would make me sack up and offer me some much-needed direction in all areas of my life.
Sarah: It's possible. He's good like that.
Lisa: Plus, I can picture him looking at my hair and sort of shaking his head with his hand on his chin, all "Well.....make it work!"
Sarah: Speaking of hair, I really liked [our cousin] Heidi's and I've been wanting to dye mine ever since we saw her at Christmas.
Lisa: It was so pretty! But...your hair is already dark? And her hair is straight but with enough wave/body to make it do the swoopy styled thing.
Sarah: Yeah, but I want to dye it darker. Plus, it's growing out anyway. I have to do something with it.
Lisa: OH MY GOSH.
Sarah: What?
Lisa: Nothing. I temporarily went insane and was like "We could have twinner sculpted Jetson hair! Just alike!" and then I had to remove that part of my brain with a scalpel. Apparently I left some bits.
Sarah: Don't make me giggle out loud. I love that part of your brain. Can I keep it? Maybe in my pocket or on a saucer somewhere in my house?
Lisa: Hee. I have it in a jar and keep it in the back of a very dark drawer, pulling it out only occasionally to bark "BAD BRAIN" at it. Then I shake the jar a little before replacing it.
Sarah: Oh, that makes me sad.
Lisa: Don' t feel bad for the Jetson-hair-twins part of my brain. It should be punished.
Sarah: No, no! If you don't want it, let me have it!! It needs sunlight, Lisa. I can give it WHAT IT NEEDS. Plus, I love Jetson hair. Many of the side ponytails of my youth were inspired by the Jetson daughter.

Lisa: Maybe there could be a point system for sins.

Sometimes I think the church is simply a program engineered with the lowest common denominator in mind, aimed at corralling the largest percentage of people possible into heaven. It's kind of like Weight Watchers.

If you follow the program, Weight Watchers works--there's no question. But...it's not the only way to lose weight, right?

Lisa: Supercharged

Every electronic gadget we buy seems to come with its own proprietary charging cord and adapter. I've been wanting to make a charging center to hide the resulting ugly and inconvenient cord soup residing in the bin on our kitchen counter. At first, I was thinking of a painted wooden box, with holes drilled in it for the cord ends to poke out of. Then I got inspired by these ribbon boxes, and Sarah helped me develop the final idea.

Here's what went into it:

As with most craft projects, shopping for the supplies took far more time than the project itself. It seems like I used to see those cardboard photo boxes everywhere, but maybe they've fallen out of fashion. Once I got the stuff, all it took was cutting the holes in the box with the X-Acto knife, and attaching the bookplates around the openings with the brads. I was initially planning on using grommets or eyelets (like in the Martha Stewart version), but I couldn't find any big enough for all the plug ends to fit through.

Here's the result!

Lisa: not in the best of taste

My stomach has developed a sudden and inexplicable (but nonetheless vehement) hatred for bile. I have tried explaining that bile and my stomach should just get along, that they could in fact work together in perfect harmony, but to no avail. Whenever my stomach detects the presence of its arch enemy, the offending bile must immediately be expelled. Alas.

Sarah: Do you need a Hope Coach?

Utah residents, I pose a question to you:
Have you ever listened to a certain radio station on Sunday nights? Say, from 10 pm to 12 am? If you have, you may have heard a certain Dawson McAllister.
I find this radio program upsetting. The premise of the show is something along these lines: teens troubled by life issues, ordinary or otherwise, need an outlet and support. Callers can vent to Mr. McAllister about how parents just don't understand, how dating sucks (it's true, kids, and it doesn't always get better), or anything else. Callers have an outlet, a sympathetic ear. Listeners either feel like they aren't alone, or like life could be so much worse. I don't have a problem with any of this in theory. No, I think I have more of a problem with Dawson McAllister (that's right, he's hip with the kids these days: he has a MySpace) in particular.
I'm willing to ignore the issue of someone believing that a two-minute session on a radio call-in show can significantly change someone's life. I'm more uncomfortable with the voyeuristic quality that the host of the show seems to exude. Unfortunately for him, this man walks a fine line. Perhaps his callers have a genuinely troubling problem in their lives that they are reluctant to admit out loud. Perhaps these callers need coaxing to admit the issues on their minds. Perhaps. Or perhaps the host pushes them to put more gravity into their situation than what actually exists. It goes something like this:

"Hi. [heavy breathing] Um. Um. I don't really get along with my parents, you know? And um. [more breathing] I sometimes fight with them."
"Uh huh. Is your dad mean to you?"
"... Yeah."
"Yeah, and sometimes he's violent, isn't he?"
"[breathing.] ... [more breathing] Yeah."

Or

"So I've been dating my boyfriend for, like, a while. And lately he's been pressuring me."
"Ah, I see. Pressuring you to be more physical?"
"Yeah, sometimes."
"Well, are you uncomfortable with that? How does it make you feel?"

Now, I realize that this man is probably only trying to help, and his callers are on his show because they feel trapped and that they have no one in their life they can talk to. But I also realize that these shows have screeners, and a more frightening situation has a greater chance of getting on the air.
I'd like to think that teenagers are strong-minded, independent young adults. To some extent that is true. They are, in many cases, probably more capable than some may give them credit for. But many of the callers on this program are probably younger than 15 and quite suggestible. Not to mention that there is a certain amount of junior high celebrity attached to hearing oneself on the radio. On top of all this, is it really right to encourage young people to villanize their parents and peers? I'm not sure about any of that. And I now listen to my iTunes while in my Sunday night cleaning frenzy.

Sarah: Ode to Nicole

Because she's such a loyal reader, and because I really like her, I am writing today to pay blog-tribute to my friend Nicole. In one week Nicole will be moving to Washington D.C. I'm not sure that the east coast is ready for such awesomeness, but here she comes!

Nicole and I have worked together for the past two years. She literally taught me everything I know and has been my sanity. I think she understands better than most what should be allowed in the workplace. Example.

Working tirelessly late at night, Nicole covers for me whenever I cannot be in the office. I recently came into the office after an absence to find several post-it notes attached to different documents on my desk, noting Nicole's activities. I glanced at my Diet Coke cup. A post-it clung to the side of my cup reading "This needs to be filled." And she was right. It does. Always.

Have you ever tried a Nerds Rope? Nicole introduced me to this confusingly delicious candy. Gummy, crunchy, tart, sweet. It's so wrong, it's right. And I was lucky enough to receive a special, Christmas-edition Nerds Rope. Yum.

In honor of Nicole I am posting a picture the rare creature sometimes referred as MonkeyDog. This animal used to roam free in our office.

Good luck, Nicole. This is my very inarticulate way of saying that I think you're great. I'll have to walk to the gas station for caffeine alone, but I'll send you Urban Outfitters shopping lists to make up for it. Have a blast and keep in touch.

Sarah: He's the tax man... Whoa-oh, he's the tax man

Do you know what this means?

It means that I finished my taxes. In January. And that pink label? It means that I'm getting a tax return. Sah. Weet.