Political Weiners

Isn’t it funny how periods of your life can be defined by certain senses or memories? To this day, just the smell of lilacs can transport me back to my grandparents’ house and conjure up about a million memories. As a kid, I spent a lot of time there, and summers were the best. They had these huge lilac bushes that flanked their house and the smell was just amazing. I remember climbing the cherry trees that used to engulf their backyard, and picking fresh raspberries and peas straight from the bushes of my grandpa’s garden. Most summer days you would find him out in his garden, with large suspenders attached to his baggy, worn out denim jeans, tending to the huge corn stalks, picking the sweetest cucumbers and cherry tomatoes you’ve ever had, and zucchini that my grandma would fry up with eggs and onions for breakfast. And I’m not sure why, but the grass even seemed better there. I think it was when they still planted grass with seeds. The blades were longer and thinner, and a little sparser than the densely packed sod we have now. It was the kind of grass you could really lay down on and read a book in the hot summer sun. Ahh…all those memories come flooding back whenever I smell lilacs.

God things were simple then! I was too young to be jaded. The things that define periods of time in my life are so vastly different now.  If you’ve read earlier posts to this blog you’ll know that rap music brings back a whole plethora of memories – but I wouldn’t say that is a warm fuzzy way to remember your college days, or your 20s, or your 30s, and so on and so forth. I mean, fashizzle my nizzle. Sure, I like reliving the days when I was up in da club, or riding dirty, but I can’t say that I would package those precious memories into a Hallmark card. I’m not sure how you would even illustrate that. Well, I guess that I can, but it wouldn’t be pretty.

But, even worse than having rap music trigger fond memories is the type of crap that defines us today. I think it’s much worse than rap. Are you ready for this people? It is all of the political Wieners out there. Yes, this period of my life – my “upper” thirties – is going to be defined by the political sex scandals – and others - that were going on during this moment in history. It seems like every time I turn on the TV, or read the newspaper, or God forbid scan Yahoo News, there is another political wiener that has reared its ugly little head and managed to find its way into the wrong vagina.

I don’t care if you are a Republican, a Democratic, a Tea Partier, or a Libertarian. Somehow, someway those wieners just won’t stay put. And true, I don’t mean to assert that it’s just political wieners that I am tired of hearing about, it’s everyone’s wieners. This, of course, includes Hollywood wieners, musical wieners, athletic wieners, and so on and so forth.

All these wieners are just overwhelming to say the least. I simply can’t wrap my mind around all of the roaming wieners, so I’m just going to have to pick one category – political wieners.

We shall call this the 2011 Spring/Summer wiener fest. Whenever you think of Spring/Summer 2011, you will instantly think to yourself, “Oh yah. That was the Arnold Schwarzenegger, John Edwards, Anthony Wiener period in politics - the trifecta of wieners if you will.

First, there was Arnold’s bombshell - an out-of-wedlock “love child” with an absolutely heinous, big busted, old, Latina house cleaner. (I only use Latina as a descriptor; it adds nothing to the “ick” factor. I am married to a Mexican you know…no prejudice here). But seriously, this woman is borderline scary to look at. My friend once said – “It’s NEVER about looks.” Man, she was spot on.  I’m actually quite amazed at the women men will cheat with. Often, they are the most unattractive, non-threatening, uninteresting types. So, if it has nothing to do with looks, it must simply be that they are “willing.” Now that is some tough criteria to live up to.  Ugly and willing…I’m guessing those are the easiest types to come by!

Then, we had the John Edwards saga. This really isn’t a new saga. In fact, it’s actually old news about an old wiener that made its way back into the news because his wiener might actually have committed a crime. More like a white collar crime. The type of crime one gets accused of when misusing political dollars to support your ugly mistress who also birthed a “love child” while you were running for office on a “family values” platform while your wife was dying of cancer. Ewww. That was actually even hard to write.

And last, but not least, the third political wiener that will help define Spring/Summer 2011 for all of us is the Wiener himself – Anthony Weiner. I have to admit, in my opinion, this political wiener is really the less of all evils when it comes to the aforementioned scandals – but it is all how you look at it I guess. At least with this “wiener” there was no “affair” no “penetration” – or at least none that we know of – and there was no love child. Apparently he is just a guy who likes to “sextext” borderline gay-porn looking photos of himself to strange, slightly underage women.  Hopefully his 2 week stint at sex addiction therapy a la Tiger Woods is working out for him. And seriously, if you are going to be named after a Weiner and engage in a sex scandal, perhaps you should consider changing it to something meatier and manlier, like Kielbasa. Anthony Kielbasa. Now, that sounds like something to talk about!

Tales from a Bush Wacker

Certainly there are many professions that require training. In fact, I can't think of one career that would not. But I have to ask, what in God's name attracts any human to seek out training in people waxing? Specifically the waxing of the pubic region? I'm sure there are some thick, scary uni brows that might be hard to tame, but surely that can't compare to a hairy wildebeest with muff straight out of the 70s.

Well, lucky for most of us, there are a few daring women who chose to venture into this dark world of pubic hair waxing. I suppose these ladies also enjoy popping blackheads on their boyfriends backs, or peeling back layers of lifeless sunburned skin from their shoulders. I guess if you like the grosser things in life, than by all means, this might just be the perfect career for you.

One could argue that only those who regularly landscape their vajayjays would seek professional help. So, how bad can it really be? But we all know this isn't true. Case in point. Have you ever been to a nude beach? Surely nude beaches are filled with 20-something hard bodies with well-oiled 6 packs, right? Um, no. I haven't been to a ton of nude beaches, but back in the day, when I was a 20-something, Larry and I trekked our way through a deserted train tunnel in Cinque Terre, Italy to catch a glimpse of one of the most remote, pristine beaches in all of Italy. Now, he could have warned me prior to our arrival that it was a nude beach, but unfortunately, he did not. As we reached a rickety wood door at the end of our hike, we had to ring a bell and pay to enter.

To my surprise, a very tall naked Italian man opened the door, took a few Euros, and let us in. I couldn't help but to gaze downward at his disturbingly long (and not in a good way, but in a gravitational pull kind of way) man parts that suggested he had been living at this beach for decades. Getting past this lovely gentlemen was a small victory. Stretched out before us were a small handful of other "characters" who you would never pay to see naked...unless you were us. And we had, in fact, paid to be there. My point is, you never see what you expect to see at nude beaches. Just like you never really see a lipstick lesbian. I usually see the "Pat" type lesbians, or the hardcore softball player lesbians...never the cherry chaptstick kind of lesbian that Katy Perry sings about kissing.

So, back to the bush whackers - I mean, bikini waxers. You know they are seeing just the worst of the worst. Or, at least that is my theory. I've also found that bush whackers are really good at an array of things. For example, they might give really good facials - AND a mean Brazilian. They might shine at mani/pedis - AND a mean Brazilian. If you're really lucky, they might weave the best eyelash extensions - AND a mean Brazilian. You just never know. I even found one that house sits!

Speaking of eyelash extensions, the last time I visited the very talented Ms. Cayla at Winks, she had a few questions for me that I was not prepared to answer. After she laid me down on her plush, cozy massage table, and packed my lower lids with gauze and tape, she asked me, "Hey, do you write a blog, or something?"

Me: Yah. Why?

Cayla: "Oh, one of my clients was telling me about it. You don't know her, she found it through a friend. But she said that you said it hurt your eyeballs and you made fun of my decor."

Me: Well, I tend to embellish things a little bit. You know...to amp up the humor if you will. I've told you that I hate my eyeballs packed with gauze and I think I made fun of the elderly woman sitting in the lobby with her oxygen tank. Other than that, I only said good things!

In my head I am praying that she doesn't "accidentally" drip glue into my eyeballs, or rip out a few natural eyelashes on purpose. Her poky tweezers are dangerously close to my cornea and I am in no position to talk trash to this girl. And honestly, I LOVE what she does to my eyelashes! I'm sort of an eyelash junky now. Every two weeks I need a fix and I'm happy to give her $50 bucks to do it!

I definitely showered her with much deserved compliments and she seemed as though she might be the type of person who gets my sense of humor. I swiftly changed the conversation from lashes to bikini waxing - because that is so much more interesting!

I asked her about some of the nastier jobs that she has had to deal with - and there have been some real doozies. She left me with a few tips to pass on to those of you "first-timers" who might be considering a muff job sometime in the near future.

• So fresh and so clean, clean!Showering is of paramount importance. Don't think you can just go to the gym, get in a quick work out, towel down and head to your waxing appointment. That is a big EWWWWW... According to Cayla, you don't even have to go the gym to be gross. Just going about your "desk sitting day" can leave you foul, so by all means, why not treat it like a date? Shower. Powder. Spruce it up a bit.
  
• Tame the BeastYes, she will wax you. Yes, she will transform your shapeless landscape into something soft and pretty. For the love of God, trim the beast a little bit before you get there. She prefers to use wax, not scissors, and if your "area" is long and unruly, get out the weed whacker and tighten up that pretty little package.
  
• Too Long or Too ShortSize doesn't matter, but length does. For an optimum waxing experience, treat your pubic hairs like Goldilocks would porridge. Only instead of the porridge being too hot or too cold, you don't want your whiskers to be too long or too short. If that isn't descriptive enough, and you want an actual number to go on, let's just say 1/4 of an inch ought to be just fine - no more or no less.
  
• Say Hello to My Little FriendIf your waxing appointment happens to fall on "that time of the month" - it is okay to call in sick. It is actually preferred. Nobody wants to see your little friend - no matter how good you are at hiding it.  'Nuff said.
  
• Consistency is KeyThis is where I falter just a bit. As if I need another appointment on my calendar. Hmmm....Gynecologist once a year. Dentist twice a year. Hair cut and color every 6 weeks. Eyelashes every two. Mani/Pedi once a month (should be more)...and now I have to factor in a regularly scheduled bikini wax? In a word - YES. You can't treat your waxing routine like a yo-yo diet. Let it become a "lifestyle" - like your healthy eating and workout schedule. (lol).

Well, that's about all she gave me. I would like to thank Cayla for her words of wisdom, sense of humor, and amazing eyelash extension abilities. I commend you for your attention to detail, and above all, your willingness to whack bush each and everyday. You are an amazing woman. You give us a gift. A gift that we can share with our significant others. You touch lives. You are a saint. And for that...I thank you.