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March 2021
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May 2021

Inevitably the Fingers Itch

I got my covid vaccine last week! Yay! Shot number 1. I had more of a reaction than I expected. I developed chills about four hours after the shot and felt a little "off". Then the next day I felt great! Then the day after that, I had chills, fatigue, and a massive headache that lasted a couple of days. So worth it though. I have no regrets. Hopefully, that reaction is only with the first shot, but just in case, I’ll keep my schedule free the week of shot number 2. Because even though this reaction only lasted 2-3 days, I admit, I shlumped into the slug life for the rest of the week.  

It’s so easy to slide into slugville. What’s not to like about lying around on the couch, binge watching TV, reading, and taking long, leisurely naps? I mean, besides the sense of impending crushing boredom, vague guilt, and tender couch booty (not quite bedsores, but not nothing either). But oh! So relaxed! So nourishing! While I’m in it, I think, “I’ll stay here. I’ll leave all ambition behind me. I’ll stop reaching for the stars. I’ll keep active enough to avoid a heart attack and keep the house clean. I’ll spend time with my family and friends and read books. Who needs the frustration anyway, right? This is so much easier.”  It’s so easy to slide into relaxed mode, part of me starts to wonder if maybe that’s what I’m supposed to be doing. Stop fooling around with writing and art! Spend your energy on the simple things... live your life!

And yet…

Eventually, my fingers will itch. They’ll want to pick up a pen or type just to hear the clicks. Eventually, images will play out in my head. Lines will follow, then a scene, then story ideas. If not words, then it will be colors, and I’ll fiddle with this art project or another. I’m a dabbler, but I’m a consistent dabbler. Eventually, I will write something or make something or recreate a DIY project with my own twist, adorned with color and words. If I don’t my fingers will itch, no matter how good the couch feels. No matter how much I enjoy spending time with family and friends. It’s kind of been happening my whole life. Is it dabbling if it’s been going on for decades?

Maybe it means I’m not dabbling at all. It’s just a different kind of life.



It’s the Pits… In the Best Way Possible!

I don’t know how to start this one. I have been SO excited about it… and yet, it’s weird. I mean, not completely circus clown freaky weird, but probably not something most people would get that excited about. And yet. I AM!

I have been doing laser hair removal this year of our pandemic. I wasn’t excited to begin with. I was hesitant, and curious, and wary, and struggling with the decadence of it all! Laser anything is pricey and there are just more important things than burning your hair follicles to a crisp. However, due to age and fricking menopause I have been developing… well… whiskers. Whiskers on my chinny chin chin. Dark whiskers that irritate my skin! And, also because of ageing, I can’t see them! I mean, they’re not imaginary or anything, they’re really there; I just can’t see them very well when I go to pluck them. I’m at that stage where I have reading glasses and distance glasses and neither one of them seems to be the right prescription to see these fricking hairs that I can feel but can’t see! (I can see them perfectly well, btw, after I’ve put on my makeup and am standing at a normal distance from the mirror.) Then, if I ask Keen (who also can’t see) to help me, he just stabs me in the throat with the tweezers.  

Raise your hand if you’ve been stabbed in the throat with tweezers.

So naturally, I was bitching about my whisker-plucking dilemmas (and throat stabbings) when a friend mentioned laser hair removal. A-ha! That could solve everything! But I still felt kind of guilty and hesitant. So, like the good little wife of a CPA, I calculated how much time I spent shaving a day. Then I calculated how much time that would be in a year. Then I pretended there were cost analyses and interest and amortizations and other words my husband says that I only half listen to.

It turns out I spend about 10 minutes a day shaving, give or take, depending on the area being shaved. To be easy, I estimated overall shaving at an hour a week, or… 52 hours a year! What? That’s a week of work! Or vacation. Or some serious binge-watching. And that did not include the time I spent trying to pluck out these damn chin hairs!! Which takes a damn long time when you can’t see them. The chin bristles were also popping up at an alarming and increasing frequency, and extrapolating out I can only assume that meant it was an upward trend and soon my entire face would be covered in tiny, dark, vision-defiant whiskers. Sooooo between losing a week’s worth of valuable time and the fact that the hairs are clearly launching a territory coup on my face the only LOGICAL decision would be to burn the suckers off with lasers. Right?

Exactly. I had a consultation and set up my first appointment. I decided to throw my underarms under fire, too, because I figured, even if it didn’t completely work, a reduction of growth there would still be less time with a razor.

I don’t know if I can describe how much I love laser hair removal. Like LOVE IT! I thought it would make a difference, but oh my god! I saw a difference from the very first appointment. Half the hair shriveled up almost immediately. Over the months, the dark whiskers have gradually disappeared and what’s left are fine, downy hairs that you can only see if you get up close and personal. It is positively addictive. I’ve already added on my lower legs to the burn schedule and I’ll probably follow that with the bikini area. I walk around showing people my bare patches. Look! See? I mutilated myself! Isn’t it amazing! If I didn’t have my local dermatology office as a recourse, like if they (god forbid) banned all laser procedures tomorrow, I would probably lurk around lairs, trying to con supervillains into using their death rays on me. THAT’S how much I love it!

Now if I spend too much time in the shower it’s because I’ve spaced out under the lovely warm water, not because I’m shaving.

BTW, I’m pretty sure laser hair removal is a gateway cosmetic procedure. I’ve already picked up a pamphlet on micro-needling and asked if cold sculpting really works. You are warned.

              - wg

P.S. For those of you who are curious, getting laser hair removal is like having a group of tiny elves hit you with teeny, tiny rubber bands. Not that bad, in my opinion. But then, I went through 36 hours of labor, and I also once had an accidental Brazilian, so I’m not fazed by most mild discomfort. (Except for when the doctor tells you “you’ll feel a little pinch” before giving you a uterine biopsy. That’s just a flat out lie.)