sugaring, waxing, threading

i was talking to terry on the phone last night, because we hadn't talked in a while and he's leaving for rio today. i worry about terry going to rio because, even though i know he lives in big, bad chicago, and he's a big-city tough guy now, i still imagine him as the jean-short-wearing, fishing-hat-loving, hall-and-oats-listening gay ex-frat boy from marseilles, illinois by way of valparaiso, indiana. when he came to baltimore he was like fresh off the boat. this is probably one of these reasons i immediately liked him so much--he wasn't jaded, he wasn't fake; he was so midwestern. and now he's going to rio for spring break. everything i hear is that rio is incredibly dangerous, like knife-you-in-the-street for your lunch money dangerous. i imagine terry and his friend kevin bouncing along in some overcrowded yellow and pink and red omnibus, chickens and dogs and children swinging from the roof. wait, is that africa i'm thinking of? india? either way, i think that rio's dangerous.

i told terry to be careful, soft-pedaling the rumors i'd heard about rio because i didn't want to sound negative. phong piped in, "and tell him not to pick up any hookers--apparently they have a really huge HIV infection rate in rio. we just talked about that this morning. weird!" no worries there. i hope.

so anyway, we're talking about terry's trip to rio because he just did a home chest-waxing. now, as someone who used to wax their chest and has since made peace with having a hairy chest, i know exactly what terry went through. i will never, ever forget the first time i waxed my chest. i made the mistake of doing it with NADS--you know, that stuff that the sadistic australian inventor bitch named after her daughter--which is this green sticky nightmare sugar concoction. i did it a couple nights before i was scheduled to leave for choir tour in hawaii. while i did it, i did double-shots of bacardi. emily, drew, and i finished off a handle--a HANDLE--of bacardi that night; it's the last time i've had it since. long story short, i know what it's like to do a home chest-waxing. ouch.

never one to be one-upped by terry, though, i shared with him my own recent hair removal experience: my boyfriend shaving my back. that's right, i've become one of those people. those people who have to shave their backs. those people who have to have their backs shaved for them by their boyfriends in the shower.

getting older: ain't it grand?