How Low Can You Go?

I finally cleaned an elusive spybot off my damn work computer. It only took two of us hunting and researching for two hours. Other than that, my main achievement for this evening was trimming my bikini line. I have this new epilator-device-thing made by Remington that my mother got for me. It's a little uncomfortable, but the results are fantastic and it's better than shaving.

Me: "So does it hurt?"

Mom: (casually) "Yeah, it hurts. But that's what those things do and it's not torturous."

Me: "Oh. Ok, well I'm game."

It rocks. I've never been one to sport a completely shaved "delta" (as Anais Nin would call it). I was happy to leave that look behind somewhere around 10 or 11. And the 2 inch runway is kind of tacky. But a tasteful triangle that doesn't sneak past my undies is all I'm looking for. And preferably without itching and burning for days. Just so I can skirt the edge of being a porn star. I'd endure the discomfort of this thing tenfold over the torture of shaving. I got a little carried away in the desire to "even things out" - sort of like trimming a goatee until it becomes a moustache. But overall, I'm very pleased.

I just wrote a whole entry about pubic hair. It's time for me to go to bed.