My pants don't fit but, lipgloss always does.

Single

2010-03-07T23:22:00.000-08:00

To be single is getting a text at 10 a.m. on a Saturday to meet for coffee with the girls and go over the details from Friday night.

To be single is, talking about a far-fetched crush and every other guy that walks by that is sexy, has a hot smile, nice ass or good shoes.

To be single is having a really bad day and calling all of your girlfriends in your contacts list hoping one of them will answer so you can fall apart.

To be single is, being the friend on the other end of the phone when your girlfriend is falling apart.

To be single is, going to dinner at 8 p.m. last minute on a Sunday and not worrying about if you are going to be out too late.

To be single is, fighting with the zipper on the back of your cocktail dress, welling up with tears because you think you are going to have to sleep in the damn thing.

To be single is, taking a whole day or weekend to yourself, doing exactly what you want to, even if that means not answering the phone, or leaving the house.

To be single is, flirting recklessly at the bar and knowing you are going home alone anyway just to remind yourself “I still got it.”

To be single is, learning from every relationship and not making the same mistake twice, three, four times...

To be single is going with the flow on holidays when sometimes you just want to do your own thing or leave the country.

To be single is, dealing with inappropriate guys asking things like “who are you boning these days,” and thinking to yourself “fuck my life, are you serious.”

To be single, is being the aunt and feeling overwhelmed and loved by two amazing little people that aren’t your own but feeling so proud and happy that you can't help but brag and show pictures of them like they are.

To be single, is the hope and the knowledge that “single” isn’t a dirty word it’s just a part of your evolution until partnership.

To be single is, being asked “just one?” when you dine out alone but feel “I’m not JUST anything,”

To be single is, holding out hope that they guy you really, really, really want to call will, and then he doesn’t and you are a little bit heartbroken but you know that’s ridiculous and you move on.

To be single is, knowing who you are, liking who you are and having faith that GOD WILLING someone else will be the yin to your yang.

To be single is knowing that outside of a relationship with a man you are still deeply loved and appreciated by your friends and family.

To be single is, eating some pickles, 3 pieces of cheese and toast for dinner because cooking for one can feel taxing.

To be single is, taking one to many shots of lemoncello at a 35th birthday party, falling out of your chair and putting yourself to bed fully clothed.

To be single is, deciding to have the most amount of fun and appreciating the cards you have been dealt until you meet your person.

Collateral Damage

2009-02-11T23:10:00.000-08:00

Where to begin....
I love, I love hard, sometimes even fast. Not that long ago a college friend said "Kate, is it hard for you to fall in love?" I thought about it and I said... "No, I truly believe you gotta give it your best shot early on, let down your guard and go for it, just to see if its the real deal." Maybe when I was in my teens and twenties I was a little more apprehensive but in my thirties, I don't have time for games. I'm clear. I know what I want fundamentally and I know without a shadow of a doubt it's possible. Sure, there are moments when I am scared that I may have missed my relationship opportunity or I have moments of panic if I will ever have the family and life I have ALWAYS wanted. However, my hopeful self has got to believe, it hasn't happened just yet.... not because I am weird or defective but when it does happen for me it will be absolutely right. Not to say that I don’t want to beat the hell out of my gyno every friggen annual visit when she asks, " Are you thinking about children? You really should at your age?!" My gut instinct is to lash out with violence and hateful commentary.... such as "Hey, fuck yourself, you insensitive old bat, if I could get a FUCKING date with a guy who did not suck I would not be in this predicament."

I love men, I do, and I have not made the best decisions. Not because I have been a total naive, dumbass but my faith in humanity sometimes surpasses my judgment. I have been known to compromise what I want or what is healthy, for a relationship that is going nowhere. Denial is not so beautiful. Over the years I’ve learned a few things. I now know, when a man says, "I don't know what I want," it is code for... "I don't want you." Brutal as it is, it's the truth. My last three significant relationships have ended a little like this... "I don't know what I want." "I’m confused," “I need to do some soul searching," I Love you, but I don't think I ever want to be married or have kids," "I need some time." Come on guys, have the balls to get out before we go down this road. Just because I have girl parts does not mean I will fall apart. Sure, I’ll cry and maybe hit the cupcakes for a week but I will bounce back. On a side note, 2 of the 3 guys ended up getting married to the women they dated right after me. One guy got engaged six months after we broke up. That hurt like hell.

I’m not high maintenance, nor do I have weird or unrealistic expectations of a relationship. I've been the "best friend," “the funny friend,” the girl who "if I didn't have you I would have never gotten this far in my career," "you are so wonderful I want to have you in my life as my friend always." Great, however, they (those girls above) come with a cost... to me, not you my man friends and lovers. I'm good people; my heart and soul are huge and full. I will love you without fear and with only the most positive expectations of outcome. The reality is not everyone is a fit and sometimes things just do not work out. I know, and I also know it’s not worth hanging onto something like a bulldog for fear of being alone. As noted earlier, I have learned a few things.

My real point is, if you really don’t want to commit or be in a long-term relationship or at least see if there is potential, please don’t talk to me. Please don’t tell me I have a nice smile; I have great teeth (6 years of braces). Yes, I am smart and funny and sometimes biting. Yes, I also have very long eyelashes, thank you for noticing. I know what I want out of and in a relationship. I’ve been dating for some time now to figure that out. I am not deluded into thinking I am going to have the romantic comedy ending. Though that would be REALLY cool. Nor am I looking for the pretty pretty princess fairytale. Relationships are hard work. I handle them, with edge, grace, dignity, blinding honesty, humor, love and passion. Please do me the courtesy to sort your shit out first. I am not your test case to figure out what you want. I will no longer be your Collateral Damage.

Sandman

2008-09-23T09:56:00.000-07:00

When Sandy married mom, he married the three of us. He became the missing piece to our whacky puzzle. 2 kids, a cat, a hamster that ate the curtains and a divorcée, the man said yes anyway.

Many of you know Sandy as a sweetheart of a guy, a scratch golfer and someone you would want to do business with. But for me, he was the most supportive, patient, loving and generous dad.

Last year when I moved back from Atlanta I had the opportunity to live with my parents again. Not ideal for a 33 year old woman but looking back I am extremely grateful for the time I got to spend with Sandy. Each morning I would wake up to the smell of Sandy brewing coffee and cooking breakfast for the dogs (I’m serious). I would make my way downstairs and we would usually rap about the paper, work, his golf game (mostly his putting) or business. On more than one occasion I would vent about my utter frustration with my many layoffs or relationships that went bust, wondering when I would FINALLY get it right. Sandy never judged or lectured he just believed in me and reminded me in his very pragmatic way… “It will happen for you Kate, don’t worry about it, look at me, I didn’t get my career in order until my 30’s and didn’t get married until I was 33”. If I really got him talking he would include some of his earlier career paths that involved some inappropriate “movie” investments and other odd jobs he had done prior to hitting his stride in insurance. He always calmed me down, asked me what my plan was and made me feel like I was going to land on my feet.

Sandy also had a way of making me feel incredibly special. Mom was Sandy’s best friend and teammate; I was his “girl.” And, he made sure I knew it, especially at Christmas. For several years now Sandy had been going to a jewelry store in Los Altos. He picked something out for my mom and he picked something out for me (all by himself). On Christmas Eve mom and I would sit in our jammies, glass of champagne in hand and open our gifts. It was the best feeling to know how tickled he was to see us open our gifts and how loved I felt that he took the time and effort to pick something out just for me.

A few days after Sandy had passed I found myself in downtown Los Altos walking in to the store where he shopped for us. I was walking around and I started chatting with a woman and telling her that my Dad comes in every year and I showed her the bracelet that he got me about 5 years ago. She asked who he was… I told her, and then we both started to cry. Lindsay the woman I had been talking to had been the saleswoman that had been working with Sandy for the last several years. She looked at me somewhat amazed and said “Kate, I’ve never met you, but looking at you he totally got you, he said you were kind of sporty a little bit of a tom boy and not real frilly.” He was absolutely right. I went on to say to her, “ya know, I don’t even remember when he came into my life b/c he has always been there.” Lindsay looked at me with a sense of disbelief and a little confusion and said, “I didn’t know he wasn’t your “natural” father. I felt very proud and full of love.

Sandman was the kind of guy every girl should be lucky enough to have as a dad and every woman should aspire to marry.

I'm Awkward....

2008-05-16T21:20:00.000-07:00

It's been established that I have been dating for 17 years. With dating comes sex... with sex comes responsibility. I kind of feel like Spiderman!

I have been on and off birth control for the last 14 years. I went on it initially to regulate periods and help with headaches and because when I went off to college my mom suggested that I might meet someone I would want to have sex with. I believe her words were "Well, what if you meet Robert Redford or something?" I of course was horrified having just finished 4 years of Catholic school and was still a virgin. I did meet a guy; he was not Robert Redford… not even close.

After years of popping “the pill” decided to stop taking it because I was concerned it would affect my ability to reproduce later in life. I read the stories in Cosmo, I worry, I am not entirely sure what long term use of birth control can do to me in fact I don’t think anyone does. Knowing I want kids, I am a little paranoid. About six months ago I decided to go back on for two very good reasons: 1) I get incredible headaches every month due to hormones and the birth control I take helps with all the super fun things that come along with PMS 2) I decided it might be possible for me to ACTUALLY have the sex again after my last traumatic "I will never date or be vulnerable again" break up.

So here I am 33, and dating. I have met someone that I consider as a long term "potential," meaning I don't knock it out with everyone I meet. Because I enjoy the sex but don't want to get pregnant unless I am with "the right guy" I do what I can to make sure I will not be one of those girls that "ooopsy,' gets knocked up. Even with my responsible notions the actual act of buying condoms is freakin awkward for a girl.

*Sex education didn't quite cover the art of buying condoms without feeling like you are being judged.

Today I went to pick up my birth control and Walgreen’s and realized I was fresh out of condoms. Some people may think it's the guy’s job. But, if I want sex, and I don't have condoms, I'm not having sex. Because I am in my sexual prime, why would I take the risk of the possibility that my current suitor may not be prepared with party hats?

Picking up birth control is no big deal. I mean, most women have been on some sort of hormone therapy since the age of 16. For my generation it doesn't mean "ooh, single girl DOING IT OUT OF WEDLOCK" unlike generations before me.

To cover up my discomfort in picking up condoms I try to mask my purchase by me throwing in chips, some hair gel, maybe a lipgloss. Tonight I couldn't do it. I didn't have anything I could fake needing and I wasn't in the mood for a snack. So, I grabbed some condoms, quickly, only briefly reading what type I should buy. I saw "for her pleasure" and thought, damn, that's me. Then, I saw lubricant. I've never needed this personally but long time friends have raved about how awesome it is. I thought, "Ok, which one?" I didn't want to be caught reading the directions, indications, and the thought of something warming up on my girly bits disturbs me slightly. So, I went for the only one I have heard of ASTRO GLIDE.

I went to the register, asked for my birth control "Pick up for, Newby, Kate," handed over my condoms and lube, smiled with flushed cheeks knowing the bearded lady behind the counter was judging me. I felt like I had a sign above my head saying "SEX ON AISLE 7. In all of my awkward discomfort I managed to pay, grab my bag, shove it in my purse, turn on a heel and bolt for the door.

I believe

2008-04-30T07:15:00.000-07:00

I believe in ice cream for breakfast and breakfast for dinner

I don’t believe in chain emails

I believe in fairies because if I don’t one will die

I don’t believe in love at first sight

I believe that sex on the first date is generally a bad idea but it happens

I believe in Déjà Vu

I believe everything happens for a reason (I have to after multiple break ups and layoffs)

I don’t believe in Santa Claus anymore but I think all children should

I believe that Thanksgiving is a far more enjoyable holiday than Christmas, in fact I actually prefer Halloween to all notable holidays

I don’t believe anyone should ever light the pilot light in there gas oven after a few beers (believe me, I know)

I believe the Sweet Potato is underrated on the West Coast

I believe if you start your day with uncomfortable socks it’s a prelude to a bad day

I believe in following your gut even if you don’t like the outcome

I don’t believe I should pay $4.00 for coffee or gas but they are both necessary (for me)

I believe in God, if I didn’t I would have to admit that I am a crazy person talking to dead air

I believe Easter is an opportune time for me to purchase Cadbury Cream Eggs and Peeps Marshmallow candy

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions

I believe in rescues everyone should rescue a dog or cat at some point (unless they are allergic)

I don’t believe that just because you have an opinion you are at liberty to share it (though I personally struggle with this)

I believe in Karma

I believe the beer koozie is genius more people should embrace them

I don’t believe in Bud Light, because the Silver Bullet never lets me down

I do believe that you should always have a bottle of chilled champagne on hand

I believe that honesty is the best policy even when it hurts

I believe that lightening bugs are magic

I don’t believe you should ever compromise what you really really want but I think most people do

I believe that everything is better with cheese

I believe in the power of positive thinking but it is easier said that done

I believe that your oldest friends and family are the best people to keep you humble

I don’t believe in shots of tequila or shots in general

I do believe in a glass of wine shared with a good friend after a hard day, week, month, year

I don’t believe in low-rise pants, people are tired of seeing my butt crack

I believe in Mission Based Shopping, but I could spend hours in the grocery store

I believe every woman is allowed to feel like a princess

I don’t believe in the Fairy Tale but I believe in Happy Endings

I'm going to be 40

2008-04-29T14:52:00.001-07:00

Recently my friend noted "I'm going to be 50 in 4.5 years." I started laughing because it reminded me of the movie "When Harry Met Sally."

Sally: ...All this time I've been saying that he didn't want to get married. But the truth is, he didn't want to marry me. He didn't love me.

Harry: If you could take him back right now, would you?

Sally: No, but why didn't he want to marry me? What's wrong with me?

Harry: Nothing.

Sally: I'm difficult.

Harry: You're challenging.

Sally: I'm too structured; I'm completely closed off.

Harry: But in a good way.

Sally: No, no, no, I drove him away. And I'm going to be forty!

Harry: When?

Sally: Someday!

Harry: In eight years.

Folks, I've been dating for roughly the last 17 years. I'll admit, that seeing the number "17" attached to dating career hurts a a lil bit. In the last 17 years I have not met Mr. Right, sure I thought I did at least 3 times. But, I was dead ass wrong about how "Right" they were.

When you have been dating for 17 years and have not met your "person" you can occasionally doubt yourself much like Sally did in the movie. What is it about ME? Am I too opinionated, picky, obsessive compulsive, wacky? Or, am I just someone who hasn't crossed paths with my person yet. Or, is it that I, on some cosmic way had to get right with myself before the right person could come along and I could truly appreciate them and vice versa?

After 17 years of dating I can pretty much say that almost every single man I have dated is engaged, married and has children.

Like Sally, over the years as I found out about each engagement and marriage I considered, "did they just not want to marry me?" But, per Harry's question "If you could take him back right now, would you?" Let’s take a look, shall we?

Do I want to live out my years with:

Emotionally unavailable, predictable Accountant - NO

Super needy, super jealous, super downer Archaeology Grad Student - NO

Self Centered, desperate, Mr. "I'm gonna" do (insert grand plan here) Art Director - NO

Homophobic, racist, selfish pilot with no sex drive - NO

Just like Sally, I will be 40... in 7 years. I'm confident that after 17 years of Mr. Wrong's that Mr. Right is closer than I think.

ARE YOU SHIT'N ME?!

2008-04-09T14:13:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago I was sitting at a bar with two of my girlfriends, we had just gone to an event at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta and I had had a few glasses of wine and a couple of Manhattan's. Needless to say I was tossed. I started to prattle on about my then relationship (I was about 6 months into it). I started to divulge that; well… our sex life was... how do you say... LACKING. Usually, and I have found this from personal experience that in the first 6 months a new couple is "doin it" a LOT. Most, new couples are trying to figure out ways to get more of each other. We were not. I thought for sure, it was me. Perhaps I had put on the usual new relationship poundage, ya know, you eat out more, drink more and did I say MAKE OUT MORE. Ok, so we weren't doing that either.

As I relayed this hot tip about my non existent sex life to my two closest girlfriends, they looked at me in horror. I was drunk enough to dismiss it and sober enough to make up a barrage of excuses (he's tired, stressed, on the road, he has a lot on his plate).

Fast forward 1.5 years...

After spending plenty of time begging for sex (literally), asking Mr. Anti Sex to go to the doctor to find out if something was wrong with him, after standing buck ass naked in the hallway and having Prince Charming walk by and head to the computer, after crying to myself trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with ME, after we had spent a night out at a Christmas party and I was feeling particularly frisky and instead of jumping my bones he handed me his pants and turned on the TV (no kidding) I was at a loss. I convinced myself that sex wasn't everything and love is all that mattered. I promised him I would not leave him for this "minor" flaw. I stood by MY MAN. In the interim I became more miserable, found comfort at the bottom of a tub of Ben & Jerry's and lied my ass off to friends and family about how FUCKING happy I was and how he was "the one."

About a year ago we parted ways, abruptly after he decided that he didn't think he ever wanted children or to be married, clearly a fundamental difference, which he failed to mention 2 years prior. Lets be honest, things were strained, I couldn't go another month sans sex (7 months was long enough). At that point, misery was indeed my only company.

Recently I found out that he is engaged to be married. My gut reaction...

"ARE YOU SHIT'N ME, I THOUGHT HE WAS GAY!"

Local News

2008-02-13T21:28:00.000-08:00

My mom is notorious in my life for clipping local magazine or newspaper articles for me, generally about people that I knew during my childhood that have achieved great success career wise, recently been engaged, had a lavish wedding or recently announced the arrival of a baby to the family. Being single, I REALLY appreciate how she keeps me appraised of the goings on of people I have not spoken to since the age of 9. I had always wondered what kind of wedding my old neighbor was going to have. Fortunately my mother had the most recent copy of "GENTRY " magazine splayed out (3 page spread) for me when I arrived home last night. Good looking group of people, large bridal party, bridesmaid dresses were decent, the event looked PRETTY fancy, after all the wedding did take place at " The Lodge at Pebble Beach."

Of course I say this a little tongue and cheek. There is nothing more in this world that mother would like as to see me settled with the right fella. Hells bells, ME TOO. I assure you, when I find the right guy my mom will find a way to (at the very least) get a mug shot of me and Prince Charming in the "Los Altos Town Crier" which will include all the appropriate stats (where we are from, how we met, what we do for a living, etc.) I can't wait!

MY POINT:
My point today is to celebrate my mother's habit/hobby of clipping, sending, hi-lighting articles that she feels apply to me. Today, she found a good one. When I arrived home from work today found a pulled portion of the San Francisco Chronicle at my door. It just said "KT" with a long red arrow pointing to a short blurb. The blurb came from a column written about overheard conversations of people who had been talking about relationships. This particular article made me laugh out loud because I feel like the words were pulled directly from my mouth. For all of the times I dramatically shouted or sobbed "you don't understand me" to my mom growing up, I must admit she is very in tune with where I am and how I currently feel about dating today.

"I'm so tired of dating people who don't have decent jobs or career goals or lives, or can put themselves together or even have their own car. From now on, I'm only going out with people who have the 'tions: compensation, transportation, motivation, ambition, attraction." (San Francisco Chronicle: Woman to man, overheard by Tim Wu).

Thanks MOM!

Quote O'the Day

2007-11-07T11:00:00.000-08:00

I've been doing a lot of reading in the last three months. Mostly b/c I spend 45 minutes on the train to the city and back.... I read everything from People Magazine, Harry Potter, to "self help" books... gross, I said it, I never thought I would be one of THOSE people. Lord knows my mother has been buying me self help, get to know yourself books for years. Ever heard of "Buddism, It's Easier than you think?" I generally give my mom the eye roll and then tuck the new piece of literature in the bookshelf or it ends up in the give away pile on one of my many home purges. Anyway, I never thought I would seek out a book to better myself or "deal" with feelings. But, here I am reading "Calling in the One."

Sure, I'm mildly embarrased. Hell, what can I say I got the mighty sucker punch with my most recent break up and I'm trying to expedite the healing process. At 32, single and wanting to be with Mr. Awesome I am at a "by any means necessary" point to help heal any wounds so I don't have any carry over into my next relationship. Which brings me to my point...

The book I am reading has quotes in the margins and the one that really caught my attention and describes so much of what I am looking for and is very simply put:

"It's easy to enjoy each other while on a vacation in Maui. The Key is to find someone you can have fun with during the six hour flight over there." -Tom Arnold!!!!

Cute Dog!

2007-11-07T10:59:00.002-08:00

Damn DOG! Ugh…

Last week I came upon my parents mini pin/ Chihuahua chewing up my digital camera cable. I mean seriously what dog goes for the high tech stuff. And, not the easy stuff that you just go replace by making a trip to Best Buy. There he was just chewing away at the end of the cable practically smiling at me. After some noodling around on eBay I managed to find a replacement chord. A few days later I was convinced that I had lost my mind when I couldn't find my favorite bra. I searched everywhere. Where could it be? Literally, I just had it in my hand! I was becoming so frustrated that I decided to step away from great bra hunt for a bit. Then it dawned on me that Rocky is about the size of a cat; in fact he might be smaller. He is perfectly sized for a Hollywood handbag. Anyway, my thought was cats like to sneak under the bed. A HA… I looked under the bed and there it was my favorite cleavage enhancing bra amongst two pair of undies and one flip flop. Mystery solved. Oddly, the little bugger didn't find it necessary to destroy the bra, flip flop or undies. Go figure. However, this evening I was brushing my teeth when I saw Sir Hide & Seek chewing on something… I stepped a little closer to find the little monster chewing on my headphones! SON OF A B#%&!

Cost of a new camera cable $35
Cost of new headphones $22
The look on the deviant dogs face while destroying my property, PRICELESS!

Heading West

2007-11-07T10:59:00.001-08:00

My dad was driving me to the train station this morning so I could make my way up to the city. As we were driving down the El Camino I looked to my right and saw a sign that read "House of Tofu." I laughed to myself and thought, "Yep, I'm back in California."

I left California a semi vegetarian, recycler that wore tie die, birks and the occasional piece of hemp clothing. Needless to say a lot has changed since I left. I've ditched the crystals, changed political affiliations, like my steak rare and can't remember the last time I thought about saving a tree!

I moved to the ATL an aspiring rap artist. I discovered rather quickly how competitive it is and after a year of trying to get signed by SO SO DEF RECORDS, I bid adieu to my career as DJ BOOTY SHAKE and hit the pavement to find a real job. And in the almost 3 years I have lived in the Dirty Dirty I have managed to attain 3 real jobs. My track record as it stands is that I give each city at least 3 career chances then I'm OUT. Sometimes you just gotta take a good long look in the mirror, embrace where you come from and head back home.

Atlanta has been a wonderful, gracious host for the time I have been there. I will miss the city, the culture and most of all the people who have taken me in as their own. I have learned so much while in Atlanta. For instance, I now know that the statement "bless your heart," can be deeply sincere and heartfelt as well as wickedly biting. "Ya'll" is indeed much easier and smoother to say than "you all." The beer koozie is freakin genius and I intend on sharing this little gem with all of my West Coast peops. I have been exposed to Banana Pudding for the first time, decadent, creamy, dreamy and fantastic. I now know the difference between a cookout and BBQ. SEC football is a religion and a way of life ("Go Tigers," "WDE"). When ordering Tea in the South it's sweet or unsweet not iced. When someone asks you how you are, they really mean it. Cracklins are a little creepy but Brunswick stew is awesome. The best mac n'cheese does not come from a blue box. Drinking all day is possible just stick to bud light and steer clear of the brown water. The game of "Cups" is a blood sport! If ever in doubt about what to wear to ANY event consult a Southern woman. Her husband or boyfriend may be wearing the same shirt from college but she will look amazing.

Thank you Atlanta, thank you to all of my Southern friends and family that have taken me in and taught me so much. I know with many of you I have friends for life.

Much love,

Kate

Maybe Next Time...

2007-11-07T10:58:00.000-08:00

As a single gal, I like to think I take some pride in my appearance. I mean not all the time. I do "casual" or "dumpy" well. However, after living in the South for a few years I have learned to pull it together, accessorize and apply the right shade of gloss and maintain my feet properly.

Recently, I decided to embark on a new form (for me) of grooming. I get my roots done (sorry folks it's not natural). I spend silly amounts of money on conditioner and not that long ago I purchased a flat iron that I'm pretty sure was developed by NASA. I digress…

So, after much consideration and a few conversations with my lady friends I decided to explore "The WAX." This is not to say I have not paid careful attention to my nether region. I am well versed in the artful application of NAIR. I am also pretty Euro in my lineage (Irish, Welsh, Dutch, German) this combo lends my follicles to a less coarse, less animal like growth. My point being, I'm not a beast bu t I feel as a woman and a lady I should look my best and tend to my girly bits.

So, I mustered up the courage and booked an appointment! And, I decided to really go for it… Brazilian! I showed up, right on time 10 a.m, Saturday. The nice young girl escorted me back and told me to take my pants off and drape a towel over myself and lie down on the table. I stood there a minute…and thought, "do I take all my pants off, I mean, my underroos too? I felt awkward and didn't know quite what to do. I poked my head out to inquire."Uh, so...yeah.. do you mean EVERY-THING?" Heather, my personal aesthetician did confirm that indeed the roos needed to go as well.

Heather came back in the room as I lay tentative with the towel draped just so, to maintain any dignity one can have while half nude in a small room with a stranger moments away from having hot wax applied to places God certainly did not intend.

Heather asked me a few questions and then began. I really wanted to crack a joke and ask this 20-something U of A grad how she got into the biz of being up close in personal to lady bits without a medical degree but my better judgment kicked in and I decided to make idol chit chat instead. I mean really what the hell else are you going to do when your leg is cocked and a gal is spreading wax on you like frosting on a cake and the impending doom of it being torn off your flesh is seconds away.

After fifteen to twenty minutes I have discovered that Heather and I attended the same grade school (Almond), Jr. High (Egan) and even shared the same PE teacher whose name now escapes me. We have covered quite a bit of ground in this intimate session. I feel close to her, we are now "friends." Finally we are coming to a close of our session when Heather inquires, "Would you like me to do your backside? "Excuse me?" I say as thought I just choked on a piece of steak. I had to think about what this would mean, the visual was to much to bare. And serio usly, as though last twenty minutes of torture were not enough." I'm surprised I haven't cracked a tooth from gritting my teeth. Red faced and slightly sweating, I immediately respond with "I don't think I can handle that, maybe next time."