Missed Connections

Chapter 26 - Getting Ripped/Virtual Insanity

Shocker! Life without Lou for a few days was...absolutely fine.

I had a few shifts at work and it went smoothly.  The Ross' were kind enough to start chatting about options for hours once fall came, and I felt encouraged that my adopted parents still cared.  We bantered back and forth about what they had been doing over the summer, mostly spending what little time off they have at the cottage.  Good Canadian tradition.  Some of the construction in front of the store was wrapping up a little, and more customers were making the trek to Beans and Corn Bread.  Time moved quickly and I had fun.

As soon as my nether regions stopped expelling my uterus, I made a priority of hitting up the newest waxing bar on Queen West after my shift.  This new trend in esthetician astounds me.  Setting up shop to only rip out hair seemed a bit ludicrous, but I needed it and so I went.  The boutique I chose blatantly had the slogan You Grow It, We Mow It splashed across the front window.  I figured it might hurt less if the people doing it had a good sense of humour.  At the very least, they might be polite enough to ignore any stress farts that might escape during the process. Oops.

I'm all about keeping things clean and tidy, but I'm not about being completely bare assed.  And I am a bit of a wimp.  Anyone who says that getting a bikini wax doesn't hurt on some level is probably lying.  Unless of course they enjoy the pain.  To each their own.  But I am a serious pansy about it and usually prefer to trim at home.  So, needless to say, the fact that I was even entertaining this possibility was a huge compliment to Louis and his prowess.  And after the all attention I had given him, I was really hoping for some gentlemanly reciprocity. 

As I walked in nervously, I realized quickly I was out of my depth.  Call it white coat syndrome, but I nearly bolted.  The services menu advertised levels of intended coverage, but all I could picture was levels of intended torture.  Finally I picked the middle ground: an extended bikini wax.  Clearing out the cobwebs without taking away the coverage I earned in puberty.  After all the angsty feelings that accompanied my pubes, I couldn't ditch them all.  We are emotionally attached at the labia.

Luckily, the experience was relatively short and sweet.  The ladies were kind and kept me chatting throughout the process.  I was in and the hairs were out before I could wax poetic.  Though, I guess they thought I was a bit of desperate case, as they convinced me to get a membership.  Finally I consented, and even booked a follow up appointment and a vajacial.  Yeah, that's a thing.  I figure, I've got a celeb to impress.  Who know what kind of manufactured vaj Louis sees in L.A?  I'd better put Canada on the map.

Taking carefully crafted strides so as to not further inflame the hair follicles that had been recently convinced to vomit up their occupants, I made my way home.  My prescribed evening plans consisted of vegging out with the girls.  Knowing Lou was away and I might need the support, they had cleared their schedules.  We planned to binge watch some of our favourite TV shows on Netflix.  Vampire Diaries, Supernatural, Gilmore Girls.  Drama, sexy men, innate but fascinating banter.  A good mix, all necessary to a proper binge fest.  And wine.  Lots of wine.  It was perfect.

The girls and I met in residence in first year, and within minutes formed a life-long bond.  It's hilarious in some ways, because Paisley scared the shit out of me at first.  She looked so tough, and was rocking some serious RBF.  (Resting bitch face is a grave issue plaguing the nation, don't you know?)  Luckily, her direct and hilarious approach won out in seconds.  Tegan's contrastingly shy, yet effervescent, personality was magnetic.  We became an inseparable trio right away, and they helped keep me balanced when my "old life" with Wes fell apart. 

That's when we started our binge tradition.  No matter where were at, what we were doing, or how we were feeling you could never back out on a girls night in.  Boys, homework, depression didn't matter.  It was about relaxing and rewiring yourself with the people who were family.  Comfy pants were mandatory.  Bottling up emotions wasn't an option.  We could laugh, cry, and goof around all we wanted.  This tight bond keeps me together on a daily basis.