Remember that time I waxed my legs?

Oh, you don't, do you? Why not? It was monumental. Oh...wait, I know why. That was today!


You know your friends when you can text Mommy McD a picture of your shiny legs.

Earlier today, these gams were covered in yetty fur. Okay, okay, not really...I mean, come on. There's something us Gingers are good at - it's having blonde, thin leg hair! In case you didn't know Gingers are terrible candidates for electrolysis. :( So instead, we get to settle for hot wax being applied in thin layers while a piece of cloth rips out the roots. All while gabbing with my Kat Von D-esque waxer lady about how this really didn't hurt all that much. Let me compare it for you. Dentist = pain in the ass. Pap smear = just plain annoying. Leg waxing = easy.

Now you're probably thinking how gross it is to go the necessary weeks in order to have the hair ripped out. But think about it. I'm. from. Oregon. Not shaving my legs for a few days is child's play. I mean, please...let's try something that actually takes work. Although grossing you out might be a bad thing. Do I want to tell you the last time I shaved my legs? No. Well...maybe. Will I actually gross you out? What if I just skip over how long it had been. Yes, that's a good call. Don't worry about it, guys. Let's just say there was an appropriate amount of time to let these little gams represent more like little lambs. Sorry, that was lame.

Anways, back to the ripping of skin. I had actually tried waxing my own legs in high school. Okay, it was technically that "sugaring" craze that was all the fad. Sugar, honey, and probably badger sperm, but any way - that. was. painful. Not only could I not get the temperature right, who actually wants to rip the cloth off their own leg???? It's the worst thing ever. You know when the rip is happening, so your erector pili totally clench up (woah - I just dropped that knowledge bomb of anatomy on you). I would never try that again. So basically that was what I was remembering today when I stripped my pants off and sat on the table. Although in preparation for hanging out in my 'roos, I did wear rockin' cute ones.

So at first, I didn't want to watch - I didn't want to fear the rip. But then after the first couple strips on the shin, I realized, Hey, this actually ain't too bad. And then before you knew it, it was time for the knee.

I even got extensive compliments for having ideal peach fuzz (umm, thanks?).

And now I can't stop rubbing my legs. This is fantastic. I need to do this more often. I can avoid spending 3 years shaving my long-ass legs each morning (not like I did), and just have the hair ripped out. I. love. it.

Not that not having shaved legs prevents me from wearing shorts or skirts. Please. A little peach fuzz never hurt anyone. Leg hair is the new black in Oregon. And I like to bring a little piece of home where ever I go.