Day 60: Get Your Wax On.

Nothing sheds the final residuals of relationship's past than a bikini wax. A time to start fresh, start new and well, be bald. In light of yesterday's embarrassing discovery, a trip to the female fear factory was long overdue. Sometimes I really hate being an Italian woman. We're loud, dramatic, always right and as hairy as the day is long. We can be such beasts! Its amazing that we have managed to mate and procreate.
This is my first time doing the deed here in Paris because I have always managed to get back to New York in time to see my Indian Goddess of Torture 'Bella' in Queens to take care of this hairy situation (Pun absolutely intended). Since it has been some time since I've been back to New York, it was time to improvise with my Parisian resources in the effort to remove the DNA of my past love and open myself up to new horizons with Sebastien (pun intended again). I'm like a 12 year old boy today...
I made an appointment at the chain Body Minute for a wax 'integral' which is the equivalent of a full Brazilian. I figured if I was going to do a vaginal exorcist, I was going to do it right and take it off..take it all off. I showed up on time for my appointment and waited in the pepto-pink waiting room before I was greeted by Michelle who lead me into the treatment room to begin what will be the least pleasant 20 minutes of my day. 20 minutes? Who am I kidding? The least pleasant 35 minutes of my day.
Michelle immediately got to work and to my delight, the wax was a soft pale pink, smelled like roses and Michelle was gentle and precise in her craft to making my vagina a welcoming, safe haven. It was a stark comparison to Bella's scolding hot honey wax that she rips off with fearless abandon and didn't find myself screaming in sheer agony and cursing myself over the fact that I waited so long in between appointments. 
Since I was half naked with my legs spread open in the proximity of Michelle's face and there was not much else to do, I felt the occasion called for a little small talk. It was the least I could do given the circumstance. I learned that Michelle was 23 years old, lives in 10th with her boyfriend Jacques, plans on going to beauty school and never really got on board with the whole 'Harry Potter' phenomenon. Me neither, Michelle, me neither..
As the wax was coming to an end, no Brazilian is complete without a trip to the backdoor region. Michelle had me flip over on to my stomach and had me awkwardly spread my cheeks with my hands to get in between 'there'. I'm not sure if it was a case of bad timing or gentle hinting but Michelle took this as an opportunity to mention that they were offering a discounted rate of the cellulite reducing package complete with body assessment starting this afternoon. If I didn't already feel worse, thanks Mich. 
After declining the cellulite reducing service and paying 30euros for a painless Brazilian bikini wax, I walked out feeling renewed, clean and slightly uncomfortable as I hobbled home with left over wax still sticking to my inner thighs.
Today is a day to renew, restart and focus on getting laid again for crying out loud! 
(Mom, I know you're reading this and have some comment awaiting me but think of it this way: wouldn't it be weirder if I was 30 and NOT thinking about this?)