Oh Abercrombie...You're Getting a Bad Reputation About Your "Padded" Bikinis For Kids. I Feel Your Pain...I Feel Your Pain...

Oh darn you, Abercrombie & Fitch...you've gone and marketed an entire swim suit line this summer to children that involves "padded" bikini tops. How dare you. Kids don't have boobies--or if they do, don't you know that we all like our kids boobies poking though their thin, lycra bikini tops so everyone can point and laugh? How dare you. (and I'm kidding)

WAKE UP, AMERICA. I'm a fairly conservative mom. I'm saying that, yet I still vote on the democratic ticket (but I'm a fence-sitter on most issues). Why are we all freaking out about Abercrombie marketing "padded" swim suit tops to kids? In the words of Inigo Montoya from "The Princess Bride"--"Let me splain...No...let me sum up" (insert the following line of, "Buttercup is marry Humperdink in a little less than half an hour"). HELLO PEOPLE. Let me tell you why Abercrombie has an entire line of padded swim suits for children this summer...

Has anyone realized what is happening with our children these days? Childhood obesity is through the roof. There are a fair number of young children tipping the scales at well over 100 lbs these days. Unfortunately with weight, comes boobs. And it's not just about childhood obesity--I have an 8.5 year old who has no fat on her whatsoever, she is over 5 feet tall, and she is already developing breasts and making a B-line into womanhood (and don't even think of giving me crap about it--I fed her "organic" EVERYTHING and she is skinny as a bean pole). Times are changing--and whether or not we like to actually "acknowledge" the changes as parent, I tell you what--I'd rather have an 8 year old running around in a "padded" bikini top from Abercrombie, than an 8 year old with boobs running around in a thin, lycra/spandex top that shows everybody her "turkeys are done" because her boobs are poking out and saying, "HELLO" to the world in the cold pool water.

PA--leeeez...the reason Abercrombie developed these tops is still left to debate. I'm pretty certain it's to cater to the actual "reasonable" needs of today's kids rather than to give the neighborhood pedophile a sneak peek at children's "goodies" at the pool--or to project kids as "sexy" before their time. I just bought my 8.5 year old daughter 4 padded bras today so she can avoid embarrassing herself in her tank tops this summer. It is what it is, people. Time to get real and learn how to deal with it.

"Everything's Not-So-Fine Down Here In Lunch Lady Land": With Three Days Left In The School Year, The Mystery As To Where My Children's Lunch Money Has Gone All Year Has Finally Been Solved

School is officially out next Tuesday. I feel like I've been going crazy all year trying to figure out why I keep giving my children checks with rather large sums of money written on them and they keep coming home within a matter of weeks with sheets of paper in their Friday Folders showing a negative balance for their lunch money. Where is all my money going? It clearly states on the school website that hot lunch costs $2.00-2.50. I'm not a super stellar math genius, but I did pass Calculus II in college, and I know the simple things--like how to crunch numbers. WHAT THE CRAP IS HAPPENING TO ALL OF MY KID'S LUNCH MONEY???

I can hear the hecklers now: "Well, if you were a GOOD mother you would send your children to school with a healthy lunch that you packed yourself!" Well listen up here all you hypothetical heckler people, this mom USED to do exactly that. I would go out and purchase organic fruit, make sandwiches on whole grain bread, include organic fruit snacks, etc. And then something super awesome happened. Every day I would go to open my kid's lunch boxes to clean them out and find exactly what I had packed for them, completely intact, less one or two bites out of a sandwich, and a warm, floppy piece of organic, spoiled fruit. And to boot I would have children who looked all floppy and miserable because they hadn't eaten anything all day. Some people might be saying, "Well if they get hungry enough, they will eat it!"--which is not the case with my children. I happen to have two of the most stubborn twins on the planet. I also am not aiming to be contacted by the Childhood Anorexia Society because my children refuse to eat what I make for them. I finally threw my hands up in the air, and threw all my organic reject fruit into the garbage bin, and decided that my children were now going to be "hot lunch" kids.

One of the moms was joking around with me after school one day about hot lunch. She said, "Do you remember when we were kids--only the poor people bought hot lunch! Now it's the "cool" thing to do!" All I could think was, "Why is that? Has school lunch actually become good?" I looked at the menu online of what they offered the children to eat for hot lunch. It didn't look super fantastic, but it didn't look like they would be dumpster diving or eating from soup kitchen options, either. They even have options now where you can go online and put money into your child's hot lunch account and check their balance. It's crazy how advanced these hot lunches have become. On with the story...

I sent a check to school with my children for $100 last month for hot lunch. "Let's see...$100; 2 children's hot lunches; 21 days in the month to buy hot lunch in April--well that should nearly get me through until the end of the month. At $2.50/lunch that should be 40 lunches." **insert visual of me opening my children's Friday Folder on April 15th and pulling out a sheet of paper that states, "Dear Ms. Madison--your children have a negative balance of $4.25/each. Please provide funds to credit their hot lunch account." WHAT? Wait a minute. What is going on here? Where did my money go? This has officially become known as, "The Hot Lunch Mystery"...

So my children hopped into the backseat of my car the other day and Emma pulls a bag of Chocolate Chortles and a Gatorade from her backpack. I said to her, "Emma, where did you get that?" She told me, "For lunch today." Hmmmm. I don't remember seeing that on the monthly menu posted online. I'll have to look into this...

Do you remember what school lunch used to look like when you were a kid? I certainly remember our "hot lunch". We had plastic trays that were divided into sections--like a TV dinner. Each section would be filled with food as the tray got passed down the "lunch lady line". Each lunch lady was armed with a long, stainless steel spoon and a hair net, and would plop whatever portion of the meal she happened to be serving into the appropriate section of the plate. Then there was a crate full of milk over to the side, so after you got your tray of food, you stopped by the milk crate, hand the cashier a prepaid lunch ticket that looked like it came out of a ski ball machine at the arcade, and then it was off to sit down at the long lunch tables and eat. I only had hot lunch a couple of times while I was growing up. My mom would pack our lunches everyday, which sounds like a good thing, but she was going through rice cake and peanut butter phase for years that wasn't pretty.

Fast forward to this morning: Emma was beside herself today because she said they had "closed the snack shop" for the year and now she had no way of getting her daily snack at school. "WHAT? What daily snack? What snack shop?" OMG...they have a snack shop at their school. Not only have my girls been purchasing "snacks" every day, but it turns out, after further research, that the $2.50 for the school lunch?--that only includes their main portion and one side dish. Then they have a plethora of options for drinks (Gatorade, bottled water, milk, juice, probably Red Bull and Rock Star, too), and they have supplemental options for dessert or other "crap" that you can throw in on top of your main dish--like Cheetos, Chortles, and Funyuns for an extra charge.

NO WONDER OUR CHILD OBESITY IS THROUGH THE FLIPPIN' ROOF! Hot lunch has become a scoop of prepared food and a visit to the vending machine! Not to mention all the additional charges that came with it! By the time my children purchased their "hot lunch" and their "daily snack" I would imagine I was spending well over $5.00/day/per kid on this junk food! THAT'S WHERE ALL MY CHILDREN'S LUNCH MONEY IS GOING!

Do you ever wonder what else is going on at your kids school that you don't know about? Good Lord. I feel like I've been bamboozled. All this time I've been wondering about "evaporating lunch money" and I've even put in calls to the guy who runs the lunch program at school to troubleshoot how my children could develop a negative balance on their lunch funds so quickly--and every time I call he acts like I'm the biggest idiot on earth and provides me with zero information as to where my money has gone. Maybe I should get on board with the PTA and institute a "Bring Your Mother To School Day" so I have some idea of what is happening during those six hours a day my children aren't in my home.

No wonder hot lunch has become the "cool thing to do". It's like shopping at a 7-11--and costs about as much, too! SHEESH!

You Got To Know When To Hold 'Em, Know When to Fold 'Em, Know When To Walk Away, And Know When To Run: A Blog About When Friendship Heads South, and Staying True To Yourself

Friendship. Or should I say, "Got Friendship?". Blech. I've had a bad encounter this week. I think it's really hard when you care about people but you just feel like, "I like you, but it's time to go now." That point in your life where you realize that Hollywood doesn't really exist like it does on the big screen and life IS actually happening right before your eyes and it's not always super brilliant. Whether it be the "high and mighty ups" of things, or the "guh-thumpity-thumpity-thump downs" that go with it. Yeah...it's been that kind of week for me--bumpy and all over the place.

Some of you may remember my blog that I posted titled, "Ahhhhhh Facebook--Without You I'd Probably Just Have A Normal, Boring Social Life". In that post I had written about how I had actually either "friended" or had been "friended" by a few people on Facebook in an attempt to get to know my boyfriend's family and friends from 3,000 miles away. This worked out well for a little while. I felt like I got to know some things about them from long distance that I never would've known otherwise (did I mention I'm in a long distance relationship?...because I am). I also found out that they are very decent people. We don't have a whole lot in common, but I always enjoyed their posts, and pictures, witty comments, etc.

"Well where is the problem??? Sounds like a GREAT way to meet people, get to know them, and forge friendships!" Oh contraire (whoever you are talking to me like you're not me talking here)!!! I suppose it would be a great way to start new friendships, assuming I didn't feel like I had to filter every single thing I was thinking and feeling in order to impress them, or to simply not offend them. I felt like I had to be on my best behavior all the time. I liken it to Princess Kate. Can you imagine what it must be like to be her? To have to be at the top of your game all the time so you never look bad? I'm sure she had tripped, stubbed her toe in front of the Queen Mum at some point and said in her mind, "OH "F"!!!...that hurt!!" but she couldn't say it. Or that little peck of a kiss she gave William on their wedding day so as not to offend the masses and give them anything to talk about in the tabloids. This is exactly how I was feeling with my "game face" on and having Tristan's friends and family watching me from 3,000 miles away on a social website. I just wanted to be myself--and I felt like I had to be perfect.

Shall I bust out in song now? "I want to be me! I just have to be me!!!" *twirl*spin*stag's leap* You're welcome.

I tend to be highly opinionated, and I generally like to speak my mind. When the "mute" button gets hit I don't feel so great about things. I've been "muted" for a long time in an effort to get to know people in Tristan's life. The fact that his friends and his family are important to him make them important to me. I just don't know how to  mesh the people in his life into my life and into my relationship at times. It gets frustrating. It's not always a good fit.

I remember getting on Facebook one day and having an entire conversation about my old engagement ring from Tiffany & CO with one of my friends who I grew up with. Because I had "friended" people who I didn't know on Facebook I immediately got the "inbox" messages, like,  Do you think by posting all this about your ring that your boyfriend will get the hint?" What hint? Did I?...I just missed something. How did this become a "hint" supposedly directed at him? Not the case. Goodness knows that I'm super outspoken. If I want to give my boyfriend a hint about things I'll just let it fly right out of my mouth and smack him upside the head--true "Whitney Style". I don't need a "Facebook Liaison" to do it. So NO...I was not "hinting" that I wanted my boyfriend to propose to me because I was talking about my love for my old engagement ring with my friend on Facebook. This is the same engagement ring I had just written about in my "Hey Little Girl--You Want Some Champagne" post. The one I recently had re-sized into a right hand ring because I adore it THAT much. This is just one example of how it can get uncomfortable with people "watching" you and trying to get to know you through a social website. It doesn't work very well.

There is a lot to be said for staying true to yourself. Whether it be about a job, a friendship, or a relationship, it is important to be truly genuine. That may ruffle some feathers along the way, but staying true to yourself does have benefits. The peace of mind that comes with knowing you don't have to be someone you are not makes it all worth it.

This girl will be "kickin' it old school" from now on when it comes to "meeting the friends and the family" in my relationship. I'm switching back to the good old days of snail mail and seeing people on vacations. I'll be like the Stealth Bomber and "fly under the radar" from 3,000 miles away. I think Taio Cruz said it best when he said, "I want to celebrate and live my life, singing Ay-o, baby let's go..."

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, and know when to run. Thank you, Kenny Rogers. That's good advice.

"Love Thy Neighbor?": Now Why The Crap Would I Want To Do That?

Whether you're a church-goin' person or not, we've all heard the "commandment", "Love thy neighbor as thyself." Some of us are better at this than others. Some of us probably care a ton and have a cup of sugar waiting by the front door on the off chance that a neighbor will need to borrow it. Some of us absolutely suck at loving our neighbors. A lot of us probably don't even know who our neighbors are. Other could simply care less.

You don't have to be Christian to have a desire and need to "want" to help others. There's a component to simply being human in most of us that enables us to outwardly express kindness and compassion toward others. Perhaps there is a genetic component as well. Some of us got the "good neighboring genes" and some of us got the "bad neighboring genes"--and some of us probably have a combo of both the good and the bad--the "mediocre neighboring genes".

"Ok, Whitney, why are you being all warm, fuzzy, and serious with us--did you just get out of church or something." Why yes, I did! Thanks for asking. But that's not why I'm writing this. And don't worry--in true Whitney form I will be back to writing about my more "typical" blog topics like Brazilian waxing and fantastic footwear after I get my point across with this. Also, in case you were concerned--I'll be questioning myself more than pointing the finger at any of you in this blog--it will be like I'm roasting myself and you can kick back with some popcorn and watch. Good times...

I have neighbors. I have no idea who they are, but they pass by me on a fairly regular basis considering the close proximity of their home to mine. I can't tell you their names. I know one of them likes mountain biking, and drives a Mini Cooper. I think he also smokes weed from time to time because I live downwind from him and I like sitting on my balcony where there have been a few times I was certain I had achieved a contact high. I have another guy who lives on the other side of me. He is out of town a lot so I rarely see him. He rides a motorcycle and throws loud parties when he does come back into town. I've met both of my neighbors a few times. They seem pretty nice. I think they told me their name once, but I'm not that good with names so I promptly forgot them.

Neighbors aren't really just the people who live close to you. I think the commandment should be re-written as, "Love All Those Other People You Bump Into On a Daily Basis As You Love Yourself". A "neighbor" could be someone you hold the door for at a store, a car you help to push when it runs out of gas, or picking up a pacifier for a family who has a baby who dropped it on the floor. You know--typical, run-of-the-mill, warm, fuzzy stuff that you can do for people each day. Some of you might be saying, "Duh Whitney, I've been doing kind things like this for people on a regular basis since I was knee high to a grasshopper. PS This blog is boring the crap out of me." And I get that. But have you ever taken time out for a moment to reflect on some of the opportunities that you had to be "neighborly" and you dropped the ball on them? I'm talking about those moments where you think, "Meh...somebody else can do it this time--I'll get the next one."

I have had some of those moments recently. Even before I went to church today I have been struggling to deal with an opportunity that I think I completely overlooked--a chance that I had to be helpful but chose to look the other way. Some of you may have seen my blog about my shopping trip to Nordstrom this week. Although it was fabulous, and wonderful to see my friend and shop with my family, something happened in that store that has made me sad all week. I don't know if it's because I felt sorry for this person, or if it's because I could've helped them and instead I ignored them, or maybe both.

I went to the loo in Nordstrom. I heard someone enter the stall next to me very rapidly, and within about 2 seconds there was a flood of urine running down her legs into a puddle on the floor. I
happened to peer over at the floor in her stall to see her shoes were covered, and I could hear she was frantically pulling TP off the roll and trying to clean everything up, including trying to pull enough wads of toilet paper off to absorb the puddle she had made. At first I was like, "OMG...what the heck? That's disgusting!" And then I just stood there for a minute, collecting my things, and for a moment I tried to imagine what that woman must have been feeling; how embarrassed she must have been; how sad she probably was to have lost control over her body like that; how panicked she must have been to get the mess cleaned up so nobody would see it. I felt bad. Not only did I feel bad for thinking she was disgusting at first, but I felt bad because I should've wanted to help her from the start...and I didn't. After I did decide that maybe I would try to do something, I realized I didn't know what to do. I thought about maybe asking if she needed anything. I'm a nurse, and I thought, "If this happened to a patient at work I would certainly help them and put new clothing on them." But I was not at work. I stood there in my bathroom stall completely perplexed for a moment."What can I do? Should I do anything? If I ask her if she needs help is that just going to embarrass her more? Should I ask her if she needs a new pair of pants or underwear so she can make it out to her car at least? I could go buy her some if she needed them--? But then I would have to worry about where to buy them, and what size she is and...that's it--I'm just going to go wash my hands and get out of here now."

I opted out. It's been bothering me all week. What if she really did need help and I just looked the other way? I was probably the only person in the bathroom who knew what had just happened to this poor woman and I chose to pretend I didn't see it at all. I've had a couple of days to reflect upon the situation now and it makes me sick to my stomach. Where was my compassion? Where was my sympathy? Why didn't offer to help her? I have a job as a nurse where I help people in these types of situations all the time and think nothing of it, only now that I was at Nordstrom it became "disgusting"??? I was really disappointed with myself. It's one of those, "Hindsight is 20/20" moments and if I could do it over again I would do it differently. I would've offered to do something.

I go to church on a regular basis, but I certainly have my shortcomings. I like it when people "practice what they preach" but I suck at this sometimes. At times I'm great at it, and other times...not so much. I don't look at myself with a "holier than thou" perspective. I'm keenly aware that I have opportunities placed before me in my life, on a fairly regular basis, that I could be more "Christlike" with, yet I consciously choose to do things "my way" instead. For example: I recently had to bid farewell to a friend of mine. I adored her, but she started dating a guy I absolutely did not approve of. I still don't approve of him--only now she's engaged to him. At first when she started telling me about him I was brutally honest with her--so much so that I could tell by what she was texting back to me that I was really hurting her with my words. However, I thought it was so important to get my point across to her that I continued to say them anyway. I know that the "right thing" to do is to get over my opinion and be happy for her. But I can't. I have this overwhelming gut feeling that this guy is not a good person for her, so rather than being a good, supportive friend I have completely cut her out of my life. So much so that I recently heard some details about her upcoming wedding and I stopped the person telling me and said, "I don't care, so please just stop right there." And it's true--I really don't care. I care about my friend, but I can't get over how I feel about her relationship so she is now out of my life. And the truly sad part is that it will likely stay this way because it is not humanly possible for me to muster up any feelings of happiness for her.  What's the opposite of a warm fuzzy feeling?...because that's what I feel about this situation.

"How's that Christlike thing workin' for ya, Neighbor?" Not so well at times, thank you very much, Mr. Non-Existent Heckler Person.

These are just two examples of recent opportunities I have had to be more "neighborly" and helpful with people. Two instances that I completely crapped up by being a crappy person in these situations. It's not reasonable to expect that we are all going to be at the top of our game all the time when it comes to helping others. I talk a lot at times about this life being a "process of refinement", and learning to become a better person every single day. I will always likely fall short of perfection with this. I don't know how to be at the top of my game all the time with "loving my neighbor". Heck, I don't even know how to care about my friend whose fiance I can't handle. But knowing, and learning from each and every circumstance I go through in my life is hopefully going to lead to me doing things better and better the next time, and the next, and the next.

Whether it be Karma, or Christ, or Jelly Beans that you believe in, there will always be need, and there will always be opportunities to interject and be part of the solution rather than part of the problem. Can you imagine what our world would look like if we all started to try to be more helpful to one another? I may not be able to fix the circumstances that I failed in my past, However, I will continue to strive for improvement. In other words,  I'll give it the old college try. How bad could it be??? ;)

"Hey Little Girl, You Want Some Champagne???": How I Was Lured Into Michael Kors And Hoodwinked Into Buying Amazing Footwear

I remember when my parents first gave me safety lessons on "stranger danger" stating that if anyone ever came up to me and said, "Hey little girl, would you like some candy?" that I was to run away as fast as I could, screaming my head off, and locate the nearest adult (one who wasn't offering me candy, presumably). I should've heeded this advice today--it would've saved me some money.

I went to lunch with my best friend, my sister, and my daughter today at the Norstrom Bistro. After we finished lunch we decided to go down to the shoe department to oogle, drool over, and molest most of the shoe merchandise. I actually found an amazing pair of Prada heels for a mere $1150. Such a great deal--it was hard to keep me from running straight to the cash register (and I'm lying--I find it odd that a pair of shoes can equal the monthly car payment of two BMWs...it's a tad excessive). We oogled, drooled, and molested shoes. Then we oogled, drooled and molested some more shoes. I was proud of us though--nobody tried on or purchased a single pair. We were being so responsible--I almost didn't recognize us.

Then it was off to Tiffany & CO. I am divorced, and my beautiful Tiffany solitaire platinum engagement ring has been tucked away for nearly three years now. I love that ring. It's absolutely gorgeous. I think my ring loves me, too. I don't think it was ready to get divorced because it knew it was going to be locked away in some kind of reject platinum prison as punishment. Sometimes I think I hear it whimpering and crying to me at night because it's lonely (No I don't--it's just a story--I know rings don't talk. "Yes they do." No they don't. "Yours does." No it doesn't. Shhhhh. People are going to think you're crazy. "Really? Hmmm."). So yes, went to Tiff's sent my lovely beauty off to be resized into a right hand ring. In two weeks I will be able to wear it and feel complete again. I bid audieu to the Platinum Police security guards that arm the doors at Tiffany & Company in their dapper suits with little satin hankies tucked into the breast pocket. I actually like those guys. A nice change from the metal detectors and actual policeman that they have at, take for instance, Marshall's Department Store. Maybe the next time I see them I'll ask them to please pin a satin hanky to their police badge and then maybe I'll consider shopping there. I digress...

Then it was off to Tommy Bahama. It was a quick tropical getaway in that store, and it smelled abso-freakin'-loutely delicious in there. Pinapple, coconut, and hibiscus scents from candles and oils all wafting through the air. All that was missing was a pina colada, woven seagrass terrace furniture, and tiki lights. I would've camped out for a while--assuming I didn't have to pick up the twins from school...which I did have to so it was on to another store!!!

**The clouds parted**The angels started singing**A light shown down upon THE MICHAEL KORS STORE**: You guessed it. Michael Kors--the mecca for a boatload of beautiful accessories. It happens to be my sister's favorite store, so naturally, being the loving sister that she is, it's only fair if she lures me in and makes me spend a bunch of money in there, too. Frivolousness love company, right? So in we go--and a repeat oogling of amazing footwear begins. The guys who work at the store were joking around with us and then said, "It's beautiful day! Perfect for a mimosa or champagne! Would you care for a glass?" My sister and I looked at one another and were like, "Is he kidding?...because he said the "C" word to us and we take that very seriously." He was not kidding. He lined up 6 beautiful pairs of shoes for me to try on and as I was sitting there trying to decide which pair I wanted to try on first, his coworker came out from the back with two flutes of champagne and handed them to me and to my sister. He also brought a glass of spring water out to my oldest daughter. It was AMAZING! She even said, "Mom...when I turn 21 can we come here to buy shoes and sip champagne? I've always dreamed of shopping like that." To which I replied, "Absolutely."

O-M-G...the only thing better than trying on amazing shoes is trying on amazing shoes while simultaneously sipping champagne!!! I had tried on three pair and had approximately half the glass of champagne consumed when I decided to try on the black, leather, peep toe, stiletto that you can reference in the photograph above. As I was trying them on I started to feel a little "bubbly" from the champagne and looked at the salesman and said, "You do realize that you are giving me champagne and I'm trying on a six inch heel that is going to throw my balance off--isn't that a liability?" He laughed and I teetered over to the mirror and was like, "SHA-BAM!!!! These things are fabulous!!! I'll take them!!!"

As he finished ringing me up I saw my total on the little credit card pad in front of me and was waiting for the line with the X to pop up so I could sign my name. He was like, "Uh, ma'am, you have to swipe your card first." Sure enough, I looked down and I had my card just lying there on the counter. I started to laugh and said, "Listen here, Mr.--don't feed me champagne and then expect that I'm actually going to just KNOW how these things work." Apparently my "blondeness" goes off the chart when enhanced with champagne.

So, yes--I ended up with a pair of shoes that I had absolutely no intention of buying today and I blame it all on my sister, Michael Kors, my parents for not teaching me proper "stranger danger" for people over the age of 21, and the two champagne pushers disguised as shoe salesmen at the Michael Kors store. I done got hoodwinked. But they are FaBuLoUs!!!! *SHRUG*

The Thrill of Brazil: Leave It To Me To Take The "Taboo" Out of Bikini Waxing

 Waxing. All the cool kids are doing it. I'm talking about bikini waxing, to be more specific. I've always been a meticulous shaver and I've owned the entire line of Venus razors *insert Bananarama song here*. I hadn't thought much about waxing until one day while sipping wine and sharing girl talk with one of my best friends she stated, "Oh Whit! You have to try it!!!" and then she followed it up with, "Once you start, you'll never be able to stop--it's addicting!!!"

I was skeptical, but decided to go ahead try it anyway. It didn't sound all that thrilling to me, and as a matter of fact, the anticipation of A.) being naked in front of random waxing strangers, and B.) getting every hair in my southern region ripped off my body was a lot to handle at first. As a matter of fact, the very first waxing studio I ever went to had a huge bowl of Wint-O-Green Life Savers in the lobby/waiting area and I was pretty sure it was a metaphor of what I was going to need once they got me back behind closed doors. They came out and called my name in the lobby. I took a deep breath, blew it out through pursed lips and thought, "Here goes nothing!". What I should've thought was, "Here goes everything..." because that's exactly what I was paying them to do--TAKE IT ALL OFF, BABY!!!

I've been through three waxing studios up to this point. Not because they all sucked and left me with a bad hairdo or anything. It's simply that Brazilian bikini waxing can be expensive and if you've read my other blogs on extreme couponing or getting high-end fashion on a dime you know that I am someone who likes to get a good deal when I can.

The first studio I went to was great. Really friendly gals--which was good, because it's important to feel comfortable when you are naked around strangers. We'd talk about my job...*RIP!*. We'd talk about my boyfriend...*RIP!*. We'd talk about the weather...*RIP!* Although chatting is a great deterrent, it feels a little strange to be having a conversation with people when they are spelunking in your private parts, applying hot wax to your groin and ripping it off. Anyway, they were really good at this studio, but they were pricey and a long drive from my house so I decided to find another studio closer to home.

The second studio I went to was great, too. I actually had a gal who used to wax movie stars and snooty falooty people in Beverly Hills. She was amazing, and super meticulous. So meticulous in fact that I would have to close my eyes and go to my happy place to pretend what was happening to me wasn't really happening to me. I actually got the "hot sugar" wax at this studio. Instead of pasting the hot purplish/blue wax on with the tongue depressors, they grab this giant glob of what looks like clear snot and start rubbing it on you and then *RIP!!!!* "EEeeeeeeeP!!!" I think it hurts worse than the wax--though many disagree with me on this. Anyway, that wasn't why I'd have to close my eyes and go to my happy place. It was because at the end of the sugar waxing she would get some tweezers and get within about an inch of me with her face and start finding any little straggler hairs that were clinging on for dear life and start tweezing them out one by one. I was bald as a billiard ball by the time Ms. Beverly Hills got done with me. Painful? Yes. Worth it? Yes. Did it freak me out to lay there and have her so close I could feel her breath on me? YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!!!! That studio was also more expensive than the first, and though it was closer to my home the increased cost just wasn't worth it to me anymore.

On to studio number three! I had been at work last week and a gal there had recommended this waxing studio that happens to be close to my home and they had AMAZING prices. Unheard of in my experience with Brazilians thus far. I went today and had a gal who had that fire red colored hair that Rihanna decided to make popular recently--you know...the one that looks like you're wearing a Ronald McDonald wig? Yeah, that one. She also had a tongue piercing which gave her a self-inflicted speech impediment so it made it pretty funny to listen to her explain things as she walked me through the procedure ("Now you thee, I'm going to be waxthing you here and then pull thith back. Any quethtons?). The waxing on the front side went fine. Then it was time for the backside. "BACKSIDE, WHITNEY?...what do you mean, BACKSIDE???" I mean that these folks don't leave a single hair on your body and so once you get done with the fun of the FRONTSIDE you get to flip over and have some more fun on the BACKSIDE. I hate this part of the Brazilian. I love the results but the only thing more intimidating than getting naked and lying in front of strangers facing upward is getting naked and lying on your stomach in front of strangers with your backside in someone's face. I must say though, lying on my backside at Studio #3 is way better than what they asked me to do at Studio #2. When it was time to do the backside at Studio #2 the gal asked, while I was lying face up, to grab behind both my knees, pull them up into the air, and roll them back up by my ears. My jaw dropped to the floor. I was like, "Come again say what? You want me to do WHAT?" Yeah--wasn't going to happen. I told her that I didn't feel comfortable going all "Cirque de Soleil" for my waxing so she let me lie down on my side instead. Probably not as great a job as could've been done had I stuck everything God gave me up in the air, but at least I still had my dignity. Back to Studio #3 and my backside--so yes, she had me lie face down and then asked me if I would "help" by grabbing my backside so she could focus on her wax application. I had to go to my happy place again and pretend that I was in Maui instead of lying there with my booty in someone's face and groping myself to boot. I felt her apply the wax. Then I was like, "What? What is she?...Is she?...She's fanning me. She's fanning my butt to get the wax to dry more quickly. O-M-G." Yes, I Whitney, got my butt fanned today. Ugh. And then of course came the *RIP!!!* Yee-haw, sisters. Yee-haw.

So yes, through the ripping, and the pulling, and the "YIPES" and the "EEeeeePs!!!" comes the Thrill of Brazil. I keep going back. Why? Because they are addicting. Once you've had the freedom from the razor and not having to worry about anything down in that region as far as grooming goes it's all worth it.

"Why Whitney--why on earth would you talk about this on your blog???" Because not only am I a big fan of Brazilians, but people often times are curious about them and like to hear it from someone who has actually been through one. And I thought it was funny. And I figured if Oprah could talk about things like Massengill on her show and people still liked her, then I could talk about getting a hoo ha wax on my blog and people would still like me. What can I say--I'm a risk taker. ;)

It's Champagne...Monday??? A Little Blog About My Fluctuating "Champagne Fridays"

IT'S CHAMPAGNE FRIDAY!!!! Only...it's Monday! That's right, folks--now that I have no idea on any given day of the week when my weekend will actually start, my Champagne Fridays have now become Champagne _________________s (insert any day of the week). Today happens to be my Champagne Friday, so I will be relaxing this evening with a glass of my favorite--Lunetta Prosecco. *SLURP!*YUM-O*

I walked into my favorite little liquor shop this evening and, as luck would have it, they are in the middle of expanding. Not knowing this was going to happen, I walked in and had my, "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore" moment when I was jolted back to reality by my favorite champagne "dealer" high-fiving me and yelling, "HEY!!!! HOW'S MY FAVORITE CHAMPAGNE FRIDAY GIRL??? Where ya been? I have been looking for you on Fridays and I've missed you the last couple!" I explained to him that now because of work circumstances that this week it was Champagne Monday. I must say--I felt a little bit like Norm in Cheers. It was pretty funny. :) (And NO---my champagne dealer is not the same guy as my merlot dealer...you know, the one who likely thinks I'm an idiot for exploding an entire bottle of merlot by leaving it in the freezer last week? Yeah...not that guy. I actually buy my merlot at a different shop that has better prices on that specific brand.)

So, yes...I will be sipping my Lunetta Prosecco and relaxing this evening. I have to prepare for tomorrow. I have an entire day planned that should hypothetically make me super beautiful by the end of the day. We shall see. If not, well then it might have to be Champagne Tuesday this week, too. And I'm kidding. ;)