This morning we were women with a mission: hair removal. See, in Beppu, Japan we are going to a “traditional Japanese Bathhouse” where there are hot springs. In a bathhouse the women go on one side and get naked and then wash outside the “communal water” and rinse before going in. And, according to reports, if you are different (Like you having DD breasts *cough*Linda*cough*) then you may have older women coming over and grabbing or holding them. Seriously. A friend told us that even in department stores women would ask to hold her breasts. See, in Japan, everything is two sizes up, so my A/B’s are now C/D’s (Woo Hoo! I knew if I prayed long enough the day would come!). She also said don’t buy bras there as they are SO padded they made her C’s into like E’s. But then, she was also the one who told us that we HAD to go to a love hotel (Maybe we should have asked a few more details on what her job WAS over there exactly). So, major public nudity means going for a wax.
To avoid the problem of last time (the wax bonding to me and being unable to be scraped off with a trowel), Linda brought a heater to heat up my lower legs. I went first with my months of hair because my care workers won’t shave my legs (nor will Linda, though it turned out as she took off her jeans she had been SHAVING HERSELF – oooooh!). All went fine, and I was glad for the diminished sensation (limited sensation, no sensation?) below the knee, it turns that the closer we get to the…ahem, bikini area, the more I could still feel. Which is good, sex wise, but bad waxing wise. It turned out that wearing my thong bikini leopard print Victoria Secret panties was a BAD idea because the beautician was like, “Oh great, we can go right in!” Right in? Oh yeah, nothing like having hot wax poured a couple millimeters from the labia. Well, nothing until it is RIPPED out in one swift motion. Then she started working down toward the clit and I was thinking, “Oh God, why, WHY did I not take the time for a trim?” Actually thinking that and saying, “WoW!” really slowly which meant, “OMG! If you do that again I am either going to be attached to the ceiling or passed out.” And yes, I was paying for this with money, not some charity event.
Anyway, I get home and go to the bathroom and start calling, “Linda, Linda, come here!” And she opened the door and I was leaning back pointing down going, “Look, I have the little triangle of the Mons, just like those magazines! We should take pictures!” Apparently, Linda camera whore that she may be has limits and while, yes, I had been waxed into the classic nudie mons pubic hair cheesecake triangle, she was NOT going to take a picture of it. Well, fine, I sure hope the people in Japan appreciate the effort I went to for them.
Back at the salon (the same one who told me my hair couldn’t hold pink due to thyroid), the beautician let me know that the four inches or so around my ankles had no hair at all, it had all died off. We surmised that was because Reynaud’s means it isn’t getting enough circulation at the follicle level and the hairs died by.....asphyxiation. I said, “Why is it that every time we come HERE, I find more bits of me that aren’t working?”
Linda said, “Because your doctor doesn’t wax your legs.”
Me: “Good point.”
So after that came the threading in which two threads rip out your eyebrows using friction and high tension. It sounds like a small buzz saw and feels like someone taking an ice pick to your forehead. But it is over quickly and now I was a little shaky but waxed, threaded, hair cut and coloured: ergo ready to meet the wide world. But first I needed to go home and rest because I notice there are several triggers for my “attacks”: Heat, Fatigue, Lack of Sleep and/or Pain, temperature changes, internal changes and talking.
The last one is my new irony: talk so much I risk brain damage by becoming cyanotic (why can’t medical people use “blue” it is a perfectly good word, not, “your fingers are cyanotic” but “your fingers are blue!”). Anyway, by 2:00 pm something funky was happening inside me because my fingers were very, very.....blue. And I did a face plant so I went to bed (Interpret: Linda forced me to bed to try and sleep). Almost immediately my heart did something new, which made under my left armpit and into the heart hurt like someone took a broad dagger, stabbed me, and then a second later twisted it (thus producing two screams). I couldn’t move and Linda had to roll me (I begged her to promise me that IT wouldn't happen again, and she said, "I wish I could sweetie!" - Linda, you got to know when to lie!) and after pain pills I slept, only to wake up choking on my own saliva (called aspirating). I went back to sleep and I think I was aspirating because a) my throat felt raw upon waking and b) My dream was about a clogged toilet and pulling crap like shirts and pants out of it, only I was pulling them out of MY MOUTH. And no matter how much stuff I pulled out, I still couldn’t breath, or I could barely breath. Or you could do some interpretation between that dream and how much I write a day!
I slept about four hours and then got up and got right back on the “Going to Japan” chore list which today was, “Get all the stuff I sold this week ready for posting” along with collecting addresses and the other 1,000 things to do before a trip (1 week: I’m not ready to go yet!). Linda did most of the packages, I just helped with the labels and stuff like that. I also went a little crazy trying to find the pocket Japan dictionary I found three weeks ago and was SURE I put up atop a bookcase. It has decided to hide until the day we arrive BACK from Japan at which time it will be sitting in plain sight. If I don’t find it by Wednesday, I am getting a new one from the bookstore (arg!).
So, no. No picture of a classic sculpted by waxing mons to put up on the blog (Boo! Linda Boo!). Why would I want to do that, many, many sane people would ask? I dunno, I guess the same reason I put up a lot of stuff: a) I’ve never had someone wax it that shape before and b) it looks like a celebrity, or famous women (I’m sure Betty Paige had one that was perfectly triangular!) and c) I....like geometric figures? Hey, sometimes I am not so sure why I do things; they seem a good idea at the time.
Okay, here is your Linda quote for the day which shows a lot about Linda: She grabs my hands and says, “Your hands are completely blue…..and really need some moisturizer.” (she has this whole obsession with moisturizer and hands and feet) – same with at the salon, “You have no blood flow to your ankles....we should use moisturizer.”
I’m not saying she’s wrong, I’m just saying my mind throws a few “AHHH!” or “Oh no!” or “That’s bad!” between “Blue fingers” and then down to “need to be moisturized.” I guess we each have our own priorities.
9 hours ago