Wednesday, May 2, 2018

Weird Thing Wednesday: Hair

Hair.

I don't like it.

Let me rephrase: I don't like it being places where it doesn't belong.

Places where hair belongs:

  1.  On your body.  
    1. But only a little bit.  
      1. Really, like a very small amount is acceptable. 
        1. VERY small.  

Places where hair doesn't belong:

  1. The toilet seat
  2. The floor
  3. The sink
  4. The counter tops
  5. The sheets
  6. Clean clothes
  7. Shoes 
  8. Blankets
  9. Food
  10. Cup holders
  11. Drinks 
  12. My cat's water bowl
  13. Anywhere that is not your body
To be frank, I don't even like much body hair.  I never dated anyone hairy.  Too many hairs look like pubic hairs, and I immediately gag at the sight of anything questionable where it is not meant to be. I grab a paper towel or a tissue and gently brush it away to the nearest trash receptacle as quickly as possible.  Get thee behind me, Satan.  Or, I rush to sweep it up while trying not to lose my lunch.  See, I tend to think about the worst case scenario, so my mind always reverts to Clarence Thomas and the pubic hair on the Coke can.  WHY? I was like FIVE when that happened.  It's like my fear of clowns: installed during childhood and impossible to remove as an adult.  

One of my biggest pet peeves is my cat rubbing against my legs after I've gotten out of the shower.  And he does it EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.  I'm soaking wet, and in he strolls, meowing and begging for attention.  I flick all the remaining water I have on my hands onto him and it diverts him for a moment, but because cats are punks, he does what he wants, leaving behind a splotch of black cat hair stuck to my calf.  I have to remind myself that he does this out of love.  I am clean and unscented.  He is marking me because he loves me.  And because he's a punk.  

If I accidentally go a day without shaving my arm pits, I freak out.  Like, drive home and shave.  Or go to Target, buy a razor, shave in the bathroom. The feel of it makes me self-conscious. God forbid I forget on a day where I'm wearing a sleeveless top! Then the anxiety and immediacy of the situation goes up tenfold.   

I shave my legs in the winter.  For any guy reading this, I know this sounds like no big feat, but I assure you that you are wrong.  Most girls love winter because a)sweater weather, and b)pants all the time means no need to shave.  EXNAY on the upidstay.  I shall not be furry.  I can't be walking around like Chewbacca.  That stuff has got to go.  

And don't get me started on facial hair!  I have ONE hair follicle under my chin that loves to grow.  Just the one.  So, I go about my business and then happen to glance at myself in the mirror one day to see: POW! You've got a long, dark thread hanging from your chin. Fantastic.  I do not feel pretty.  

I keep a pair of tweezers in my makeup bag.  And one in my purse.  And one in my bathroom drawer.  And one in my car.  Because you never know when you are going to look down and realize, "Huh, I missed this one random spot while shaving", and have to painfully remove the hairs one by one.  Call it vanity, call it obsession, I call it cleanliness.  Which is next to Godliness.  Which is said no where in the Bible, so I'm not sure who first lied that one up.  

Whatever you call it, call it "Weird Thing Wednesday."  

I Googled "Gross Hair" and this is one of the photos that came up.
 I can't unsee this.  Now, neither can you.  

No comments:

Post a Comment