Waxing Poetic

I was waxing poetic until I realized I can't rhyme and scream at the same time.
I am very curious what started the female deforestation program. I realize there are some who believe one clean shaven in the hand is worth 2 in the overgrown bush, but when did the nationalization of waxing begin? Women seem to have this obsession with hair. They either have too much or not enough. Women spend an enormous amount of money either removing the pygmy bush country or adding on extensions making them look like Rapunzel.
There is much about this subject that fascinates me. Don't get me wrong there is a part of me that is repulsed at the same time. I am merely gawking at this particular car wreck. I want to know when it became fashionable to look like a hairless chihuahua, naked and shivering in the cold. Especially when all the cute names for the area are after very furry animals. We call our hoohahs after the most adorable creatures in the petting zoo. We call it monkey, kitty, puppy, and my personal favorite is a friend named hers "Whiskers". The funny part is she was a Brazilian girl and had no sense of irony.
When did this idea of wanting to look like a small child or being relegated to being the neanderthal wearing a personal rendition of Where the Wild Things Are? I was tricked by a friend in the 90's into getting a trip to Brazil. I say tricked because she was "helping" me back into the world of dating and made a mystery appointment for me. I went in, dutifully did as I was told, thinking the appointment was going in a very different direction, when I suddenly had one leg in the air and I heard myself weeping like a small child. When I finally had wiped away enough tears to see, I realized, too late, I now looked like one too. I got dressed and as I walked to my car I noticed I had heightened "sensitivity", but not in the " oh, this is freeing and wonderful" type. Mine was more of me looking down at myself every 15 seconds to make sure I was still wearing pants kind of thing. I felt worse than naked, I felt overexposed. I have never not known when I was naked. The misappropriation of my protective covering screwed with my head making me feel naked when clearly I was wearing clothes. The whole experience for me was disconcerting. I was smooth as a baby's bottom and as red as one with diaper rash. I was also untouchable due to the pain. I suppose if I were to give it enough time I would get used to it. The question in my head became "why did I want to do that?" My friend insisted it was a genius idea to torture me during the process and gaslight me for weeks after. "It's a very clean look", she said. I responded with,"So is soap and water and it doesn't cause you to make an emergency appointment with your therapist or in my case 'my hairapist', since that is all I can think of now. I feel overly aware of the land down under."
"You are always over reacting. It doesn't hurt that bad. Beside you want "her" to be beautiful don't you?" my dear friend continued to push her agenda. "No, I don't care if "she" is beautiful. "She" is grounded due to poor judgement and the inability to make good decisions. "She" isn't going anywhere since "she" now resembles Mr. Clean. Seriously, one peircing and a broom shoved up my butt.. Thanks to you, I feel dirty all the time, ironic, eh?. I can't date without worrying about the guy being into kiddy porn."
That was my last trip to South America. God bless those who need to feel squeaky clean. I'll settle for well groomed. Most men, definitely none that I know, wax in the place that dares not speak it's name, even though it has been said it makes things look bigger. The looking bigger part blows me away, because no childbaring mother wants anything to look bigger, which leaves only virgins who are usually young, who don't need waxing...is anybody following this?
Since I have never had any difficulty with my previous grooming methods, I decided if it wasn't broke,I wouldn't wax it. I have never once had to paint an arrow on my stomach for a man with a sign saying "you are here". Intrisically, he knew where everything was, even in the dark.
I was thinking of developing my own styling products for those of us who want to remain post-pubescent. Moussing it straight up, or geling it to the side with an adorable little rhinestone clip. Maybe create a designer "do" that will catch on with the celebrities so everytime they show of their goodies to the paparazzi I get a royalty payment. With enough product anything can be accomplished, even discretion.