Affair with hair

Since one of my very first memories in middle school, I disliked body hair on myself. I remember when I was in grade 7 and I was in the boys change room, and it occurred to me that peach fuzz started to appear on my body, and I didn’t like it at all. I was confused as to why I had it, and the immediate reaction was that it made me feel dirty. Little did I know that it would become a concern, fear, and affair for years to come.

I went home shortly and raided the cabinets and found a razor and used it to remove the hair on my arms, and legs. Little as it was, the anxiety I felt was immediately subsided. It was the beginning of the trials and tribulations of hair removal.

Since the age of eleven to eighteen I shaved on a regular basis to keep things under control. After that, I noticed that the hair would grow in thicker and was now brown instead of blonde. This worried me even more and caused me more anxiety. The more it came, the more I took it away and rid myself of guilt. This was very much the same routine until I was 23 and finally started to look older than 16 years old.

I was working full time with a steady job and had tons of money to spend or waste as I pleased as I had no social life. I frequented every month a health spa to have the hair waxed away instead of shaving. The effects were dramatically different, but the interim period required for the hair to grow to an appropriate length to remove was uncomfortable and made me anxious again. This continued for two full years, and in retrospect I ended up spending approximately $1,500 in that timeframe on the removal. I didn’t really think about it until now; shocking I know!

And so I moved to Asia last year and things got a little weird, mostly because shaving in my shower is awkward and difficult as it’s limited in space and comfort and the water is gross. I started to research alternate more permanent options. Naturally I gravitated to Thailand with their cheap deals, but it wasn’t realistic as most treatments require you to go regularly, and zipping off to Thailand would be hardly a good option.

The magic machine

I compared prices of laser hair removal in different parts of the world, and could range between $250 per treatment to flat rates of $2,000 depending on where you went. Paying that much money for light therapy seems ludicrous, so I asked around here in my village and I got a referral. I would pay approximately $600 all inclusive for IPL (Intense Pulse Light) treatment. After the consult I was sold and excited about the possibility of never having to worry about it again.

The price was right, the location was clean and safe and discrete, and everybody seemed happy. Here I am tw treatments letter and already I notice huge differences. It’s amazing to think that in another 6 months or so I’ll never have to worry about the appointments, or ever have to worry about it again. It’s liberating, it’s freeing, it’s magic, and it’s right. It feels right, and it means I can focus on other things.

And thus the affair that I’ve had for nearly 20 years is almost over. Who knew that being aware of hair cycles and anagen phases of hair growth, or light, or the gentle cold feeling of the applicator and the gentle smell of burning hair follicles could be so comforting.

Smoothness ahoy!

I went on a date…

Uh oh, spaghettio!

Yes it’s true, as unbelievable as it is to believe such a thing, it happened. Thanks to the magic of the internet I seemed to secure myself a date, the first one of my 24 year old life. Details were vague and I knew that we were going out to dinner, but apart from that I had no idea.

Ask any of my colleagues, I was a nervous wreck all week. I struggled to stay focused at work, I had no motivation to do anything, I even couldn’t sleep for more than 4 hours the entire week. All came down to 17.30 on Friday night where everything would be changed…

I left, after briefing people as to check up on me at a designated interval of time just in case the person I was meeting was a serial murder.. I went to our pre-destined location and arrived early because of lack of delays on the TTC subway (who knew, eh?) and then I was called to be notified that there would be a delay. How polite eh? I was paranoid about being stood up and they even had the decency to let me know that they would be 10 minutes late.

So I strolled around the little mall and nearly got lost before returning back to said location for the meet-up. Hearts racing, not knowing what to expect how it would good, I was shaking.. quite literally shaking. And then the arrival, the awkward hand-shake which seemed to be out of place and to which date didn’t know how to react. Off we were to dinner, at an unknown location in the cold (without a scarf).

We went to a Thai restaurant, and I sat down all nervous and shaking.. I was shaking for a good hour before I really calmed down. Chit chat about movies ensued, and as we were leaving dinner I started to calm down a little bit more. I ordered water to drink, and the damn server thought I said “washer” and wouldn’t understand. That didn’t help my nerves at all…

We decided to go play a little bit of pool at a bar closely and we did. We played 4 games, all of which I lost terribly, and chit chatted about various subjects during. I was very close to winning the last game, but with 8 attempts at getting the 8-ball in the pocket failed, I was beaten and heavily disappointed. No matter, we sat down and began a couple hours of conversation. I eventually decided to get a drink, which I was avoiding doing to keep myself in check, but it happened.

We talked some more and decided to bar hop to another location. I said okay and went along with it because I was feeling quite comfortable at this point and didn’t need to worry about anything but not saying something stupid. We arrived, got molested by some creepers and ran to the bar. Ordered some drinks and progressed to talk for awhile after.

I quite literally lost track of time and eventually it was time for me to leave, but little did I know that I had missed a bus. I didn’t say that, but instead it was offered to watch a movie. I accepted after a few minutes of pining over the offer, but figured that there wasn’t any harm in the situation.

Fast forward to several hours later when I finally departed. Is it normal for a date to last that long? I don’t think so, but then I have no idea. What are my thoughts? I had a rocking fun time despite being so nervous that I couldn’t even sit still and was shaking, but there were some good things to come out of it too..

For instance, I actually succeeded in feeling comfortable around someone. It’s especially difficult when that someone is attractive, successful, highly funny, outgoing, charming, intelligent, and all-in-all a bitchin’ person. When a person can understand my position, react accordingly, and still respect boundaries, I gain a respect for them immediately. What can I say, I’m smitten!

Now all I have to do is wait… and pray that something good can come of this.

PS: There are many details that I left out, but I feel it’s more prudent for me to be vague and only take note of the general outline of what happened.

When it rains it pours


Keeping with the recent theme of anxiety attacks, horrible news, and all-around horribleness that happens to be called my life there are a few exciting things that happend. I watched Melofiestivalen from a few nights ago, and that lifted my spirits. And then throughout the night, something actually happend in Calvados. I shit you not. Something happend, and it doesn’t have to do with cheese or cows. I still am an awe. We have weather! And when I say that I mean something that isn’t the same thing that we have every damn day. The wind picked up to about 110km/h here in Caen, which makes me happy, because firstly like wind, and secondly something actually happened here. How exciting.

Anyways, Mello review to follow later in the day with screencaps as per the annual routine.

Back to the “news” of greatness. I’ve come to the surpressed realisation that I seriously need to see a psychiatrist. It has been festering in my brain since about the age of thirteen, and every time that it comes to mind I keep reminding myself that I firstly can’t afford it, and secondly will do it when I’m financially secure enough to. What does this mean for me? That its probably never going to happen, as I will never be in a financially sound situation. So is the story of my tragic life. I really need something like that. I have a lot of unresolved “issues” which I can’t get over and I can’t move on from. 

It either comes down to me getting serious help, and fast (which Mt. Allison couldn’t do at all…), or I’ll just keep sinking into a hole and the final 18 years of my life will just be the culmination of my patheticness (if it even lasts that long). I did talk to the people at Mt.A when I was there, but the best they could do was give me a little pamphlet on how to deal with anxiety, and that I could see someone once every two months. Considering that the school year is only 5-6 months of the year that is not nearly sufficient. Bitterness alert. It’s okay for the rape “victims” to get the help they need, despite them going out every weekend and being whores themselves, but when it comes to someone that actually needs some help the best they can do is a little carrot.

Death be to me. Death be to happiness. Death be to people moving in together. Death be to my past and history. Death be to my experiences. Death be to everything, seriously.

I would say it’s not fair, but who the hell gives a flying fuck?

Panic attacks vUpteenth

I’m currently feeling an anxiety attack coming on. What can be expected with my current male pms situation? I can’t handle being around people, I can’t handle the things that I’m dealt, and to make it better everyone else around me is having a pleasant time and I’m just me. And all that crap about “being yourself” and “loving yourself” is all bullshit.

Why is it truly that the world is against me and makes me feel even worse than I already do?

The best worst part about it, is that I’ve got nobody around. Which also means that I don’t have anyone to whom I can talk.

Incoming… crying episodes, more anxiety, more panic, and the continuation of my starvation diet.