Great News!!!

I spoke to the manager at Starbucks last night, and [this girl] will be showcasing some of her best photography pieces for  sale!!! WAAAAHOOOOOOO !!!!!


Hello April, I’m excited to see you come so quickly :]



God has BIG things for me! 1st step, Today… 2nd step, Tomorrow… B4 I know it I wont just be where I want to be but we’ll be there 2gethr

Wax is not your friend… ALL LADIES MUST READ THIS!

WAX is NOT your friend All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal- The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair, and now… the wax. 

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: “Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet.” So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. 

It was one of those “cold wax” kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. 

No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I’m not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. 

(YA THINK!?!) 

So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. (Cold wax, “yeah… right!”) 

I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. 

It works! 

Ok, so it wasn’t the best feeling, but it wasn’t too bad. 

I can do this! 

Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire. 

With me next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. 

I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the one strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my *hoo-hoo* and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek. 

(Yes, it was a long strip) 

I inhale deeply and brace myself… RRRRIIIPPP!!! 

I’m blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!… OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! 

Vision returning, I notice that I’ve only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!!!!! 

Another deep breathe and RRIIPP!! 

Everything is swirly and spotted. 

I think I may pass out… must stay conscious… 

Do I hear crashing drums??? 

Breathe, breathe… 

OK, back to normal. 

I want to see my trophy- a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. 

I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There’s no hair on it. 

Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX??? 

Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. 

I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip. 

I touch. I am touching wax. 


I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, wh ich is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. 

Then I make the next BIG mistake… remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? 

I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. 


I hear the slamming of a cell door. 

“hoo-hoo”? Sealed shut! 

Butt?? Sealed shut! 

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself “Please don’t let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!” 

What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! 

I’ll run the hottes=$#@^er I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???


I get in the tub- the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment- I sit. 

Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together is having them glued together a n d then glued to the bottom of the tub.. in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn’t melt cold wax. 

So, now I’m stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!!!! 

God bless the man who had convinced me a few moths ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!! 

I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It’s a very good conversation starter- “So, my butt and who-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!” 

There is a slight pause. She doesn’t know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, “Are we talking cheeks or who-ha?” 

She’s laughing out loud by now… I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!! RIGHT!!!! I should be the joke of someone else’s night. 

While we go through various sol ut ions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!! 

By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I’m pretty sure I’m going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event. 

My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace… the lotion the give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? 

I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!! 

The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. 

It’s sooo painful, but I really don’t care. 

“IT WORKS!! It works!!” 

I get a hearty congratulations from my friend and she hangs up. 

I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair… THE HAIR IS STILL THERE… ALL OF IT!!!! 

So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I’m numb by now. Nothing hurts. 

I could have amputated my own leg at this point. 

Next week I’m going to try hair color…. Now thats funny…… Notttt. 

Send this on to other ladies who need a good laugh


Okay to all my followers!!! [yea yea i know this isn’t twitter–[[death to twitter btw]]]

For once… something happy to post! I do apologize for the last four years of posting I’ve actually sounded quite down, dumpy and depressed. And I’m not. Not really. I have just typically used Xanga as my vice to get it all out and then I feel better :]

Yeah, but life is slowly making its turn in the other direction… and I am excited about it! 

Today I officially joined the “fish bowl”

yes. This fish bowl. and its NOOOOOTTTT a dating site. hehe 

You want to know what this figurative “fish bowl” is?

Google it 🙂

And pick out which explanation you think fits me best….





its the 13th link on the googol


This Christmas break home has been good for me. I’ve accomplished a lot in regards to tying up loose ends. But now that they’re tied, what do I do now?

Living my life without those prosprects in my life is unusual, out of the ordinary; painful. But I have also learned that where there is pain, there is healing.

But I was thinking about it. How do I know this is healing? How do I know this isn’t me wondering if I made a big mistake and I just want things to be the way they were?

So I thought about it. What does it feel like to heal?

You know I recently shredded far too many layers of skin off my ankle when shaving. At first I kept a bunch of antibiotic goo and giant band aides on it, but it needed oxygen I realized to really allow itself to get better. Covering it up only prolonged and protected the wound, but it really wasn’t allowing it to heal. So I took the covering off. At first I did everything I could to not let be touched. I wore shorter socks and rolled my jeans up. But I could not function properly without letting that part of my ankle to touched. As with winter its cold. So I can’t have my jeans rolled up or it just furthers the irritation I’m trying to avoid. Finally I let down the guard of my pant leg. Over the next week it does hurt, it itches and it is just darn right irritating. I see though as I continue to live my life without acknowledging the discomfort my wound is causing me, its healing. It takes everything in meto not scratch my itch because I know it will reopen the wound I’ve been trying so hard to let heal. I find myself wanting to nurture it. I want to show it off to people that I am hurting. Its those moments I am just irritating it all over again. It will not heal if I continue to shed light on the problem. All it needs is time and it will be good as new. Though it might have a scar for a while, it makes me who I am. It is character building and humbling at the same moment. It also serves as a reminded to not make the same mistakes I did previously.

In the end, that is what healing feels like. Victory over what once bound you and held you hostage in teh midst of your own mistakes and attempts to forget it ever happened. But I won’t forget it happened. I am glad for this. I know now many things I never considered prior to this event.

1) Don’t buy that brand of razors again. (Its given me more problems than just my ankle)

2) Be patient and don’t rush what deserves to have time spent on it.

3) See value in myself and all my appendages that come with it. :]

4) I don’t have to have my hand on everything for it to turn out right.

5) Pain is not in existence to make you hurt, but to caution you for the better.

6) Time and patience don’t heal anything.

Time and patience merely guide you through the healing. But the healing arrives when you least expect it. Mainly, because you have finally set your sights on something more important and worth your energy. Yes, occasionally you’re reminded of the wound. But you now notice you don’t bask in its discomfort as you once did before.