Brazil, as in... later today my hoo-hah is going to Brazil

Ahh, gentle readers, we've been through a lot together.  You were there when I dd sunless tanning and my body tanned but my stretch marks didn't.  You've heard about my thong undies, and listened when I told you about extracting sand from the crotch of my underpants.  We're close, you and me.  So I feel that I need to share with you that this afternoon I am going to get my first laser hair removal treatment.

TMI?  Yes, yes, I know.  But this is a big deal for me.  I have wanted it forever, and now, thanks to the magic of groupon, I can afford to be relatively hairless down under.  I don't want to get into the gender politics of hair removal.  If my urge to depilate offends you, I'll say this.  I get it.  I understand the politics of keeping body hair.  I think that body hair is beautiful and sexy and I think that a lack of body hair is also beautiful and sexy.  If my husband wanted to wax his balls for me, I'd be fine with it. I'm also fine if he doesn't.  Thankfully, he feels the same way about my junk.  Good thing, because mostly, it's been kind of jungle-riffic down there lately.

I do shave from time to time.  For bathing suit season, the minimum needed to get by.  (Or sometimes slightly less maintenance than the minimum.)  For special evenings, more.  Lots more.  I'll miss some things about shaving.  The ritual of body hair removal has always given me a pleasurable sense of anticipation.  Two days later though... not so much.  I will not miss two days later.  I do not re-grow hair elegantly.  It's a hot effing mess.  Only not hot.  At all.

I tried waxing once, wondering if that would go better.  AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!  Um no.  They say it gets better after the first time.  I will never know.  Wax my legs, wax my pits, all good.  No prob.  Minimal discomfort.  But I will never let hot wax near "the treasure" again.  Oh hell no.

But here's the thing.  I like to have less hair... down there.  For... stuff... you know... I prefer... whatever.  We can talk about my hoo-hah, but even I have a TMI limit.  I just like it that way.  Not for him.  For me.  Enough said about that.  So groupon, thank you for giving me the opportunity to make that "situation" permanent.

There's some confusion about the Brazilian.  I used to think it meant no hair at all.  It doesn't.  Or at least, most people agree it doesn't.  Wikipedia suggests that the Brazilian and the Sphinx are the same.  Most waxing professionals and laser hair professionals would say they are different.  Brazilian means everything gone "under the hood" as it were, but you can leave as much or as little as you want in the front.  The sphinx is naked-naked.  Like prepare to be vajazzled naked.  I'm doing Brazilian, but am leaving hair in the front, because naked-naked... not for me.  And vajazzling just doesn't seem like it would be comfortable for anyone involved. That's one thing hoo-hahs and vampires have in common:  They should not sparkle.  I will leave it as an exercise for the reader to list other similarities.  There are more than you think.  (Feel free to brainstorm answers in the comments.)

But here is why I was motivated to write this blog.  I'm leaving some hair.  But how much hair do you leave?  Holy crap, you guys, it's so much pressure!  Whatever I shave, that's what they will laser and that is what will be there (and what will be gone) FOREVER!  That's crazy.  Imagine if it were 20 years ago and I got a landing strip.  I would be so bummed now because that shit is dated.  The fact that there are trends and fads in pubes is, yes, disturbing.  I acknowledge that.  But still, there are.  Crack a playboy.  Watch some porn.  You can pretty easily name the decade.  I'm just saying.  I want my hoo-hah to be able to move with the times, baby.  So how much hair do I leave?  What shape?  These are the important questions to tackle.

It's kind of dumb to get a Brazilian and leave a full bush in the front.  Or is it?  Triangle?  Topknot?  I will admit to spending some time on the Pubicstyle blog to help me with this decision.  Hey, DO NOT CLICK THAT LINK!  Don't click it if your kids are in the room.  Don't click it if you're at work.  Don't click it if you think your spouse is checking your cache for evidence of a porn addiction (or at least use Chrome's incognito mode).  Don't click it if you don't want to look at very, very close-up photos of many, many labia.  You have been warned.  But yeah, I looked.  What's right for me?  The chartreuse dye job?  Probably not.  A permanent heart shape?  Nah.  But lots of choices.

Too many choices.  Too much pressure.  You shave kind of crooked, or take too much off or not enough?  It's shaving.  Who cares.  But this is permanent.  What if I shave too much by accident?  Like I even it up so I'm not crooked, but then I'm crooked the other way, and I keep taking a little more off and a little more off and I wind up bald?  I'm kinda OCD.  That could totally happen.

Update:  I had to shave last night.  They said overnight was the best, not just before the appointment.  So it's done.  I left some.  I didn't accidentally shave it all off in an obsessive quest for symmetry.  In the end, it's not like I'm an aspiring porn star.  I'm going to see it, and my husband is going to see it.  I showed him the shape I went with.  He seemed totally, totally good with my choice.

So later today I'm going to Brazil!  Well, my hoo-hah is.  Wish us luck!