Facial hair, scram!

For the entire time that I've graced this planet, I've had peach fuzz on my face. Nothing too thick, just blond and there. But a few years ago, I started to notice that the peach fuzz on my upper lip looked like a short, blond moustache. And on my lower lip? Like a short, blond goatee. And in the summer, that peach fuzz bleaches out, to almost white, and that just doesn't work for me.

I spend a lot of time avoiding mirrors because I just don't like seeing how the 23-year-old in my head sooooo doesn't look like the 37-year-old in the glass. But I pause, briefly, to insure things are (unfortunately) where they're supposed to be. And the peach fuzz is there, or was there...

Yesterday, my mate and I left for D.C. so I could freeload at his hard earned annual conference shindig. It's swank, and I'm not, so I always go a little mental before this thing. People all about the *Benjamins just unnerve me because I can neither relate nor wish to. It's just snobbish (but doesn't me labeling them snobs make me snobbish? Oh Gawd!). So, back to being mental, right? Ahem.

In my nutty state, the day before we leave, I found myself trapped at work 4 hours--FOUR HOURS--longer than normal, and I hadn't seen the kids and I wasn't packed and it was just a mess so rather than pack the night before, I climbed into bed between my spawn and slept, restlessly. Waking every hour, I finally got up and hit the couch at 4 a.m. and enjoyed watching "Singles" until I realized why my house was all Lord of the Flies. A screenless window had been opened. And not only had one of the inside cats bounded outside, but about 3 billion flies made it in. AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! (Those buzzin' mofos make me all Rambo crazy with a swatter.)

So at 6 a.m., my husband finally woke, leaving me 2 hours to pack before we had to bounce. And I totally rocked my suitcase in, like, 35 minutes!!! Which left me more than an hour to do all sorts of stuff like shower, kill flies, drink coffee, kill flies, check email, kill flies, get dressed, kill flies, kiss the kids, kill flies, pack the luggage into the car, and kill flies. In fact, I had soooo much free time on my hands that (and here's my point) I decided to rid my face of my albino facial hair!

And all whacked out from no sleep, fly invasion, and snobbish insecurity, is no way to prepare for facial hair removal. I left the cream on too long and burned the shit outta my face! (I really am a tool.)

*My husband, a banker, read 'Benjamins' as ben-jam-ins. "Ben-jam-ins?" he asked. "What are ben-jam-ins?" To which I asked, "Dude? What the hell are you doing in finance?"