The Aftermath

Well, just call me Jessica Da Silva Cruz because now I am as Brazilian as they come!
ahhhhhhhhhhhh!

Right after I made my appointment yesterday, I confronted a good friend/co-worker who had also converted to Brazilianism not too long ago. I was seeking comfort, solace, a few words of wisdom before I said farewell to my lady hairs.

Mel- "Well, You'll have to get on all fours!"
Me- "Like... uhh.. on the floor?"
Mel- "No, you dumbass! On the bed!"
Me- "Ewww, Doggy Style! Is that for the ass hair region?"
Mel- "Yeah...That part doesn't hurt too much, surprisingly. But, the rest fuckin' hurts like hell!! It kind of turned me on a little, though!"
Me- "Oh."

I was officially creeped out, but there was no turning back. The Spa had my credit card number and I would be charged whether my lady hairs remained or not.

At 5:00pm I gathered my things and said farewell to my beautiful cubicle neighbor Monique.

Of course, my hair doctor wasn't ready for me.

So, I sat nervously in the waiting room skimming through US Weekly and wondering which celebs had been Brazilianized and which had not.

Lindsay-Lo? Hmm... probably.
Britney? Questionable bush.
Rihanna? There is most definitely nothing under her umbrella.

"Jessica? We're ready for you"

I followed my curly haired lady past a number of labeled doors. First there was 'Tranquility' and then 'Peace'. Finally, she led me into 'The Garden' and told me to remove my pants and undies and lay on the bed.

So I did. And then she came in. And told me to do this.



Yep, that's me. Spread eagle in front of a stranger. Yum!

"So, uhh... this is my first time. Ummmmm... Do most people leave a little somethin' somethin' or just get rid of everything?"

"Well, it depends. Some people leave a little. Do you want to?"

"Um, ok. Yeah. Leave a little. And then i'll decide, I guess"

WOW, AWKWARD.

p.s. i'm not going to tell you what I decided because uhhh, that's WAY too personal!

So she starts waxing me and i'm all
"Ouch!"
"Ahhhh!"
"OOOUUUCCCHHAAAAHH"
"Oh, that one wasn't so bad"

"You're pretty good at this" She told me. "Most people are really freaked out their first time"

"Oh, I'm a very good patient" I replied, eyes completely shut tight and holding onto the bed for dear life.

What I was really dreading was Doggy Position. How degrading! This is lady-on-lady and Doggy just didn't seem politically correct.

"We're almost done" She announced as she tweezed my remaining areas.

And running through my head is - Huh? What about the Doggy? I'm not getting Doggy?

"Ok, Now lift your legs up"

Here it is, position #2. Sooo much classier than Doggy.



Mel was right. This region was much less painful. She even waxed out some upper leg hair free of charge. Hoorah!

And then it was over and I was Brazilianized.

I pulled on my business casual slacks, paid my bill and walked home the 8 blocks to my apartment.

And then I ate my first dinner sans down-there-lady-hairs.

It was nice.

The End.

A Eulogy

To my dearest, dearest down-there-lady-hair,

I can't believe we'll only be together for another two hours and fifteen minutes. What is it now? 10 years? 11? God, time really flies, doesn't it?

I remember the first time I saw you. It was shower-time, and I had just pulled down my hot pink Umbro shorts. I guess I had forgot to put on underwear that day. There you were. Brownish. Curlyish. Just like on my head, but there was a lot less of you. I liked you immediately. I still do.

Remember that time I tried to Bic you off during my Freshman year of college? I never did say sorry. But i'm sorry. I blame it on the Jungle Juice and that guy from Writing 105. I forget his name, but I swear it was him.

You just couldn't stay away though, could you? No, you were back in no time. Friends Forever, isn't that what they say?

I haven't minded you hangin' around my Victoria Secret's. Please, don't think that is why i'm doing this. It's not you down-there-lady-hair. It's me. Or wait, it's not me. It's my boyfriend. He blacked out last week and revealed his undying scorn for you. Oh, and i'll get a lot more oral. So, uhhh, sorry!

I don't know about me, but I know you'll be strong. Just think about all those unpleasant gyno visits. The stirrups, the rubber gloves, the prodding!
Maybe it'll even feel nice. Hot and waxy! What's not to like?

Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for being a friend.
Maybe i'll even see you again in a few weeks. It'll be just like the old days. Just like when I pulled down my Umbros on that fateful day.

The Funeral will commence at 5:15pm at The Spafumerie II on 49th and Second.
Hor'dourves will be served immediately following.

Tada!

Finally, Murray Hill. A little recognition!
A big thank you to all of the friends and fam who called last night to make sure I didn't explode all over Lexington Avenue.

I happened be enjoying yet another lo-carb-meat-fest in my kitchen when shit went down, so all is well and i'm in one piece. hoorah!

In other news, I am off from work tomorrow! GLORY! I am having a major dose of cubicle fever and am going to D.C. this weekend to see Hillary, Mike, Janna, Ash and Hannah. Lucky for me Hill's air conditioning is on the fritz so it looks like i'll be spending my drunken sleeps cuddling in between the lezzies. Just like college! Except hopefully this time they'll keep the moaning and groaning to a minimum. Yes, YOU ashley! ahhhh flashblacks!

My boyfriend no longer wants to commit suicide because he recieved a sexy job offer which basically makes him the richest man in Woodside, Queens. I bet if he wants, he can even afford a year long supply of Panda Garden mixed vegetables! Unbelievable!!

I'm still poor, though. Great.

Okay, what else.

It's Restaurant Week here in NYC, so you know I was forwarding that shit to Daddy Winston.
In one hour I will be chowing down on Filet Mignon and sipping red wine with Marvin. Ahhh, the romance.
It's amazing how often I talk about my dad at work. It's like this.

Monique- "What are you doing for lunch today?"
Me- "Marv is takin me out for steak today, biatch!"
Mo- "Yeah, he took me out for steak last night too! and then we DID IT!"

Thanks, Mo. Very cute.
Too bad your mom flew in from Georgia last night and gave me really good... uhhh... ah, i guess that's weird.

Other exciting things in my life:

-Somebody left a Duncan Sheik CD on my desk and I secretly like it.

-I've started to BYO iced coffee to work! It's genius! I'm going to be a billionaire by 2009. You'll see!

-Last weekend I went to Jerz to visit my sister Sarah. She took me to her 'ladies only' gym and it was hilaaaaarious. Everything was hot pink and purple and supa-early 90s style. Even the employees! This is what I can remember:



Wow, that took way too much time.

Bye!

Bravo for Bravo!

Did anyone else bother to watch the Charm School Reunion show last night? I felt like I was watching a tit concert! If someone were to ask me what happened, I honestly wouldn't know how to answer. All I saw were breasts! Big ones! Even innocent little Buckwild was busting out of her v-neck dress! Sean came over to watch, and the only thing he could pay attention to was the balding, mustached man cheering on Sapphyri in the front row.
"Now THAT's my type!"
"Whaaaa Whoooo? Dude, did you see those BOOBS!?"

I really like reality television, which is strange because I really hate reality. I haven't watched the news since I was forced by my 8th grade Social Studies teacher, the same bitch who dumped my desk out onto the floor and called me discombobulated in front of the whole class! What a hooker!

I also hate politics. Passionately.
Quick, name as many Presidents as you can!
Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Abraham Lincoln!?

Sports? Forget about it. The closest I ever came to sports fan was when Hillary and I decided to become scorekeepers for the boys' lacrosse team in high school. We figured this would definitely increase the chances of losing our virginity before graduation. Mission Accomplished... well at least for one of us! Sports, WOO!!!

But Reality TV... Sweet, sweet Reality TV.
I'm really into Top Chef right now, which is seriously a blessing since Bravo runs repeats at least 20 hours each day. Sometimes I like to imagine myself as a contestant, turning every challenge into a new and improved stir fry creation using only Pam cooking spray and canned baby corn.

Gail Simmons of Food & Wine Magazine will compliment me on my robust Asian flavors and Chef Colicchio will be so impressed he'll have no other choice but to throw me onto the Kenmore Kitchen counter and have his way with me. I mean, uhhhhhhhh nevermind.




I used to love the Next Food Network Star, however this season blows my ass. All of the contestants suck equally, plus they're ugly. I'm sorry, there's enough ugly Food Network Stars for my taste already. Nigella's Feast? Don't get me started. Giada the BobbleHead? C'mon, you're telling me she actually EATS?! douubttttttt it!
And worst of all.... Healthy Apetite with Ellie Kriger. One Word. WOOF!




My only true Food Network love is the Barefoot Contessa. Sometimes I wish she were my mom! "C'mon pookiebear, let's create our own pizzas and then grill them in the backyard!" ahhhhh i love you!



I am eagerly awaiting the return of Project Runway, and life is seriously wonderful again now that Extreme Makeover is back in action.
Wife Swap? Um, BRILLIANT!

Oh shit. I'm at work and it's Monday and I was a half hour late due to elevator traffic plus had to buy an iced coffee and now it's 11:30am and this is all i've accomplished.

In the words of my dear friend Heidi Klum, Auf Wiedersehen!

Banana Hairs... Revealed!

What a strange week it has been! Monday I went to work and it was gay. Tuesday, I also went to work but thankfully it was less gay due to a 2 o' clock early dismissal. This translated into 3 large and in charge frozen margaritas and a trip to Urban Outfitters to return a dress I had already worn and may or may not have had sex in. Whoops. Beware of the plaid halter dress, size large.
I thought I was doing myself a favor. I said to myself, 'Girrrrllll, you need that $50 for pedicures and iced cappucinos and general life! Return the dress. Return the DRESS!'

So, I returned it. But unfortunately, I was drunk. And so I frolicked over to Banana Republic, just for a peak. I was sure I wouldn't like anything. Positive! Just wasting some time. Just taking a looooooksyyyy....OOOOHHHHHHH there's a SALE!

And so i bought a shirt/dress contraption and a bottle of water from the upscale hot dog vendor on Lexington Ave, totaling the amount of my return. fuckshit.

Fourth of July was a giant blur of beer pong and swedish meatballs, yesterday I almost committed boredom-induced suicide in my cubicle and today has consisted of nothing more than a free, questionably whole wheat bagel, 2 visits to ye' ol' bathroom compliments of the tub of Pinkberry frozen yogurt I chugged last night and an unsuccessful 2 hour search for the hottest and sexiest bikini in all of internet land!


So basically, I have nothing to say right now. Except for something which is amazing and that I would like to share with all of you!

Alright. I love bananas. I'll say it, I love them! They are cheap and heavenly, taste good in cereal or in smoothie-form or even straight up. But i hate the peeling process, mainly because of those stringy ass banana hairs. They are GROSS! Picking them off is just plain unappealing, and GASP!! Actually swallowing a hair? Let's just say, that's a giant no-no.

BUT, did you know banana hairs actually have a scientific name?

Phloem Bundles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(pronounced flom). They are part of the system that carries nutrition to all parts of the banana. - quote Chiquita.com

So have a lovely weekend, enjoy the weather and beware of the Phloem Bundles!
That is all. Goodbye!



check out those phloems!

P.S.

From: Winnymom@aol.com

You had sex in a dress and then returned it? Gross!! Did it still have the tags on it?

Mom