Right now I'm just sitting in an uncomfortable rattan chair at my desk waiting for Mike to finish reading Karl Marx or some insane weirdo translation of an ancient Balinese text so that we can go get some pizza. I am also enjoying an ice cold can of Tecate, and the reason my Tecate is so cold is because I left it outside on the porch when Solomon and I decided it was high time he play in some snow. As self-proclaimed lover of Pabst Blue Ribbon, I'm pretty ticked off because all the stupid UofC undergraduates bought up every single 30 pack of PBR. I know this because I asked them if there were more cases somewhere in the back and they said NO. I'm one of the liquor store's best customers (that's not saying much since there are so many "good customers"), so I imagine they weren't lying to me. In any event, Solomon and Kitty just finished dinner and tonight's menu consisted of Friskies Ocean Whitefish & Tuna. Sally and Lola-Turned-Kitty have been eating this for a week now because cans of this particular flavor were on sale at CVS for 39 cents a piece. What a deal!
Anyway, today was mostly uneventful, aside from the fact that I learned that my company hasn't been taking Illinois state taxes out of my paycheck, and of course my Nair experience. The whole taxes issue isn't something I'm willing to deal with at this point, especially considering the Tecate because I'm likely to call Human Resources and ask when they gained an extra chromosome. What's more important is the Nair. I've been using Nair, which is a noxious depilatory hair removal cream, for several years now. According to Nair, it's for all seasons:"Beneath all those extra layers of clothing is your bare skin dying to be set free. And yes, there are times, even in winter, when you're going to be wearing less. Whether it's hot-tubbing après-ski, a Pilates class or a romantic evening by the fire, always be ready. Besides, you deserve to look and feel as gorgeously smooth in January as you do in June."
The fact that Nair can be used all year long has never really been something I was worried about. I've never been sitting around in August wondering, should I be using this right now? It is hot and humid, perhaps I won't get the best results. Instead I was probably thinking, I hope this garbage works, after all, it is only Nair. So anyway, at 2:00 PM Central Time, after I had read Gorgeous Joe's first blog post, Harold's latest, had about a half dozen cigarettes, drank 3 cups of coffee and read Dan Savage's Sex Q&A in the Chicago Reader I decided it was high time to take a shower. And, of course, Nair.
First off, it's interesting that Nair is both a noun and a verb. It's sort of like Google in that way, but not really any others. It's also interesting that Nair is basically sulfuric acid, but you can buy it in a plastic container at your local drug store. Other than that, it's just your average beauty product. Your average beauty product that smells like eggs prepared for Devil's Night or Halloween gently masked by Aloe & Lanolin, Cocoa Butter, or Baby Oil. Your choice of barely distinguishable fake fragrance. More so, it's one of the most feared products on the market -- which explains the insane ritual I have concocted when using it.
Since the entire goal of using Nair is to remove hair, you need to be really careful you don't remove hair you don't want to remove. For instance,the hair from your head or eyebrows. Here is my recipe for proper Nair use, and therefore hair removal:
1. Obtain several yards of paper towels from the kitchen.
2. Separate said paper towels into two paper towel section pieces -- required, about 16.
3. Turn faucet on hot and keep running full blast. (I hope you don't have Alcatraz-style faucets.)
4. Secure head hair in pony tail holder, bobby pins, headband, and whatever other barrettes and/or claw clips you have.
5. Encase hand in paper towel and open cabinet containing Nair product. Remove Nair from cabinet.
6. Place recently used Nair paper towel into trash can, place new paper towel on basin, and squirt globs of Nair into your hand.
7. Rub palms together and, carefully, begin the application of Nair to desired body parts.
8. Following ten minutes of waiting, reading The New Yorker, and generally bumbling around hoping that you didn't get Nair anywhere else, begin removal. (Please note that the bottle says three minutes, but that only works for individuals of Swedish descent, AKA Vikings.)
9. Following thorough removal of Nair cream, wash hands as if you are going into surgery. (I learned how to thoroughly remove germs, bacteria, and Nair by watching Dr. Mark Green on ER, so for proper hand washing practices please see YouTube or Dr. BBChug.)
10. Begin shower, hair still secured with various accouterments. Once in shower, wash hands seven times or until completely satisfied that all Nair has been washed from your hands.
11. After 20 to 40 minutes you should be all set.
(Please note that there are several other components to this but in order to get pizza I will have to follow up in comments.)
If you're really wondering why I even bother with such nonsense, I'm afraid I can't answer that. Nair, by some stroke of God or something, actually does work, although I'm deathly afraid of it. It smells terrible, more so because of its added scent. I never understood why Nair's R&D team never realized it just wasn't worth it to make it smell good. I mean, it's for hair removal. Who really cares what it smells like? This is like eating and breathing.
Anyway, at this point in my day I'm hairless and we've ordered pizza over the Internet.
WWPOTATF,
Shelly
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