I feel like I’ve walked through about 8 of these doors in the last month. As frustrating as it’s been, and the many nights of racing down the stairs at Powell Station just to catch my train, and being so physically, mentally, and spiritually exhausted to the point where I’m breaking down and tears are pouring down my cheeks, being consoled by complete strangers… I realize that everything does happen for a reason.

If I even began to describe to you my work situation over the past 2 months I might have to end this blog here and start the process of publishing a novel. Let me tell you. I went from my happy little comfortable waxing job where I was content… but not going anyway… to literally being out on the street clueless and not even knowing where the next step is. It’s amazing how in only a couple of days I went from sleepless nights worrying about what I’m going to do and how I’m going to survive in this city of ginormous monthly rent… to wondering how I was going to flawlessly attempt the greatest move in all of The Waxer’s history of successfully rocking 4 interviews in one week.

Yea.  Really.  I can’t believe just this Sunday I was crying to my friend about how I’ve applied at about 500 places and not one call back.  I mean shit guys… I’m the BEST at what I do.  When E-40 wrote that song about a Brazilian Wax Diva… home boy was really talking about me.  Not only that but I give an amazing make you feel like a million bucks facial.  I worked at a place for 2 weeks and immediately I got a yelp review stating how amazing this young lady’s facial was and how it was even better than the massage she received earlier.  And I’ve recieved a massage by that therapist before… THAT was amazing.  My friend decided to take me to the ghetto fair… a magical carnival that appeared overnight on the side of the 880 right across from the Oakland Coliseum.  Let’s just say I was thankful I did not actually die on any of those rides.  Wow.  Just wow.  It was the best/worst idea ever.  Not to mention we hit up Cinnaholic right before we headed over there and I was attempting to keep down my cinnamon bun and pomegranate frosting.  “You’ll find something” she consoled.  Yea, I’ve heard it before.  You’re about the 7th person to tell me that, I appreciate it but I’m frustrated.  Nothing’s coming up.

Not to mention everything that’s going on with my sister.  Is there such thing as sympathy hair loss?  Because I swear I’ve been pulling out some of the biggest clumps of hair out of my shower drain lately and I even had to pour the Draino down there this morning.  I’ve even shaved a part of my head (in support of my sister) so I have even LESS hair than before and I swear it’s falling out.  I do have thick hair and a lot of it, taking after my father’s ethnicity’s traits.  It’s just the way our hair is.  Which is weird because it’s ONLY so much there and for being a body waxer, I don’t grow much else anywhere else.  Then again I’m a frequent waxer, and as I can sit here and bore you with the benefits of waxing… I am proof at how soft, fine, and less your hair really will grow in.

I can’t even believe the luck I’ve had with jobs.  I mean one place was ridiculous.  They had a fire while I was there.  No one was attending the sauna room, the wood got so hot it’s was burning black and falling off in clumps.  2 firetrucks pulled up to the building and not a single cute one.  And it was in that moment of total chaos and viewing people’s lack of complete common sense to not only get out of a building but to also STAY out of a building when an alarm is going off.  It was like everything I was feeling about the place, finally personified in a literal blaze of glory.  Or maybe it was that earlier in the day all these strange little things kept happening to me that in hindsight I realize was telling me “NO WAXER… DON’T GO TO WORK TODAY.”  I ignored the signs and saw first hand what a complete waste of time this was.  All the time and effort I put into it… which was A LOT.  Only to get hit on by 2 different workers and to actually go out to grab Golden Boy’s in North Beach with one of them (before I realized he was a total creep) and narrowly escape by having my best gay friend call me pretending to be my boyfriend… which he practically is so it wasn’t really that hard to act the part.  Honestly though… who talks about sex to someone who they JUST met, and continues to talk about it when it’s clearly making the other uncomfortable.  Don’t get me wrong I talk about sex.  But never to people I’ve just met and not in a creepy way implying I want to be having it with the person I’m talking to about it.  Just saying.  I came home in tears that night.  Called my mom sobbing.  I went online and applied to the first job I saw.  Made it a point to apply to a new one everyday.

But the next day I got asked to come in for an interview.  And got hired on spot.  I liked this place.  It had great potential.  But I would NEVER open anything up without being finished.  I would never hire people without actually having everything I needed and instead relied on them to just have a clue about what’s going on.  It really sucks because I loved the people and everyone was so nice and understanding and helpful to my sister’s situation.  But the long hours and hardly any time off or even time for a life was killing me.  I worked 9 days straight and was ready to jump in front of the Metro when it came hurtling into the station.  Ok, maybe not that dramatic but I was seriously unhappy.  And I felt guilty for being seriously unhappy because I found a job where I was awesome, worked with awesome people, used the best of the best as far as products.  I loved it… but I just couldn’t handle it.  Everything started to get to me, I became seriously depressed.  I finally broke down and told my boss everything that was up and bothering me.  She told me to take time off and come back in a month when everything’s settled down.  I didn’t have the heart to tell her I just didn’t want to be there, because I couldn’t even explain to myself why.  I know she’ll be understanding, but I just don’t know what to say.
Plus what if a month goes by and I really do want to come back?  I just don’t know.  Too soon to say.  I did realize something about myself while I was there.  I practice yoga, I’ve got 2 Buddha’s in my room, I love organic skin care, I wish to practice energy work, I’ve got a very spiritual tattoo on my arm, I pray/meditate and give thanks for my entire being everyday to G_d.  I’m a total hippie.  No getting around it.  And this place was totally just this.  All about it.  And I loved it.  But you know what?

I’ve got a VERY fierce side to me too.  I wont buy a pair of shoes if it’s under 60 dollars (and that better be because it’s a 100 dollar shoe on sale) (and not because I’m a snob but because today I walked from the ball park to Embarcadero in some crappy 30 dollar Oxford style heals and my feet are screaming right now.  I’m sorry but I’m a big believer in not buying the crappy pair just because they’re cheaper.  You pay more, they will literally last you longer and save you money in the long run because you won’t have to go out and buy 3 more crappy pairs after you run down the first one.)
I’m a fierce girl and yea I love my Betsy Johnson my Francois Nars.. but most importantly I love that I can rock ANYTHING I wear because that is was fashion is really all about.  It’s not who you wear but how you wear it.  And no only that but please… give me 15 minutes in Loweman’s and I’ve spent half of what it would have cost me elsewhere, or that I’ve got a BEAUTIFUL Elizabeth Wayman hanging in my closet right now I didn’t spend a cent on (no I didn’t do anything illegal!)
I love treating people but I also love getting to know people.  I love being me.  Because when I am myself… I attract those people who mean the world to me.  Why I had so many clients at my last place, why so many of them because close personal friends of mine.
It was hard to flourish in a center where I couldn’t do it.  I get the cover the tattoos thing… but when it’s really down to dictating your outfit and yelling at you for dangling earrings (please!  Dangling earrings are my thing) I just couldn’t do it.

I’m a waxer.  End of story.  I would LOVE to do both.  In fact, I just requested information from NHI to become a licensed MT.  Working on people and coming in close contact with not just their physical body but their inner beauty and soul is WHAT I DO.  I mean, really, it’s why I even started a blog in the first place.  To project my being onto those who I don’t have the honor of coming into personal contact with.  And I could not JUST go from waxing and waxing only to facials and facials only.

So I prayed.  And I asked G_d for help.  So frustrated.  I saw with the first place I was capable of dealing with REALLY bad situations and basically mandating my business that someone else is supposed to be doing all by myself because that person is NOT doing their job.  And I found at the second place… I’m an amazing facialist.
So I prayed that I would end up where I’m meant to be.  I felt guilty because in this economy I really can’t be picky.  Most people are just happy to have a job.  But when I’m hardly getting back what I’m putting in… then I just don’t know.  Everyone told me to be where I was happy.  And where I was… I was not happy.

So frustrated… I left.  And remained frustrated for a week.

Until… how did this even happen?  It’s like everywhere I sent my resume… I’ve got people practically knocking down my door to get me to come work for them.  From all over the city, all different kinds of places.  I guess I was intimidated, there are literally hundreds of spas in the city… how am I going to make myself stand out in the crowd?  There’s no thinking like that.
I sat down and I wrote everything that I’m amazing at.  Why I am hireable.  Why people are dying to get me in their spas.  Why I don’t regret quitting my waxing job.  It had to be done.  It was time to move on.  It was time to start the next chapter of my life.  Why I’m the best at what I do.  Why I love doing what I do.  Where I was going to get hired at.  Why.  Where I was going to move to and now live (it’s time for an upgrade!).  Who (in a sense) I was going to meet and fall in love with an all that blah (although I did state that when it happens it will happen but right now G_d gave me this time to live my life and work on me)  How I was going to be a successful esthetician, how people are going to be on a waiting list just to see me.  So I was going to rockity rock the shit out of life.

And guess what.  It came true.  At least the first part.  And the next is yet to come.   So now I’m stressing on what to wear tomorrow.   Had one today, two tomorrow, and one on Tuesday.

I’m going to do this.  I’m scared.  But soon that fear will change to confidence.  I’ve done this before.  I’ve got nothing to fear.

Watch out San Francisco, when The Waxer arrives… you’ll never be the same again.

Peace & Love,
The Waxer

Apparently not everyone in this world learned this lesson when they were three years old.  So guess what boys and girls… we’re going to talk about something VERY important today.  PERSONAL HYGIENE!
Now say it with me kids… PERSONAL HYGIENE!
Very good.  Now that we know what today’s lesson is, let’s explore what it actually means.
IT MEANS… when you come in to get a service done, why you don’t have large amounts of  CRAP lurking in your butt-crack?  That’s what that means.

It seems so obvious but it just amazed me how many people either
1) have absolutely no regard for other people IE. the people they know will be down there and all up in their business
2) have absolutely no regard for themselves.  I mean you can feel that right?  You can TOTALLY feel that all up in there, squish squishing about.

Let me tell you something.  I have seen some of the nastiest things doing this job.  I used to have a squeamish stomach for things of this sort of nature.  NOW… I think I can handle just about anything.  When a situation like this does come up, and it does, a lot more often than it needs to be happening, I deal with it.  Be it poop, blood, something else going on down there (though it someone did have something very serious, I would definitely turn them away for mine and their health.)  I just deal with it.  And you betcha my tolerance for your nasty coochie is going unnoticed.  I think I’ve got the best poker face out there because of this job.  Sit me down at the tables, I’ll win them all.  Gaga’s got nothing on me (and yes I do realize that joke was SOOOO 2 years ago)
I deal with it.  Then I send you on your merry way.  And then later I start to think about it and that’s the moment when I freak out.  Dry-heaving.  Sometimes I just need to go outside to get fresh air.  I’m really underpaid for what I do.

And really ladies.  What’s with the odors.  I mean yea, I get it, but sometimes it’s just like… WOW!  Sometimes I can’t get the memory of a smell out of my head.  Like is it attached to my nose hairs or something?  Shouldn’t because I WAX my nose, haha.  But sometimes I really think it’s the MEMORY of the smell.  I never knew that could be a thing.  But smell a nasty stinky vag and you’ll totally understand what Im talking about.  Sometimes I’ll be driving home and all of the sudden I will smell it… the MEMORY of a smell.  It’s the strangest thing ever.  And even sometimes it lasts for the rest of the night.  Why can’t I have the memory of cinnamon of old spice deodorant in my head.  Why rotting vagina???

I just went to the gym and I didn’t bother to freshen up at all for you.  THANK YOU!
I just spent the first 10 minutes of our appointment time taking a poop.  AWESOME.  And you would think if you’re there, you could have done a better job at the wipe…. just saying.
I had sex ALL morning!  Thank you for sharing but also THANK YOU FOR NOT SHOWERING.  You’re disgusting.

Courtesy wipe please!!!!

Do I really need to explain how to do this???  I will.  Alright.  Reach behind you, now start from the bottom and wipe upwards, making sure you cover all area.  Really get in there.  And you know… this goes for BOTh sides, front and back!
Now here’s the trick.  DO IT AGAIN.  This time, ask yourself “is there any added color on the toilet paper?”  If the answer is “YES” you must then repeat this step until there is none.

Now we’re ready to party.

But when you’ve already got a pretty nasty one to begin with, and I flip you around to get the backside (if you didn’t know the Brazilian includes EVERYTHING)… is this what I’m REALLY seeing???  Ok I get it, the occasional dingleberry.  It happens.  I don’t trip.  But really, this?  I wonder.  I really do.  Do you just not know?  Are you that careless?  Do you just not care?  I really do wonder.  And I can’t help it when the phrase “doo-doo better” comes to mind.
Thank you Mr. Chappelle for that one.  I think I should get a prize for using that in the correct (and most visually disgusting) context.
You ACTUALLY have doo-doo butter spread in between your cheeks.
What do I do?
What can I do???

Try to wipe some of it out, put the wax on, pull the wax off.  I can’t even get it all out.  This isn’t my job, to be wiping the doodie out from your butthole.  This is not a skill listed on my resume.  I do no enjoy subjecting myself to do this for you.
The wax isn’t even sticking to the hair because there is a thick layer of ka-ka preventing it from doing its job.  You are done.  You’re just done.  “thank you for coming in sweetie, we’re all finished”
Get your pants on, HURRY HURRY HURRY!!!  Alright keep up on your waxing and come back in 4 weeks.  Send you out the door.

Nightmare over, right?  No.  Walking back to my room gagging… guess what my room smells like????
Change out my trash bag.  I’ve got paper towels with POOP on them in my trash can.  Just take it out, get it out of here.
Are you kidding me?  And no, this time it isn’t the phantom smell thing I mentioned earlier.  My room smells like POO!  Luckily my manager bought febreze for the bathroom.  Nope.  STILL SMELLS.

I think I’m going to write that guy from “Dirty Jobs” and invite him to do mine.  See how he handles it.  I once saw him unload an entire rotting whale from a u- truck piece by piece, then pull all the meaty deliciousness off and boil it down.  And he had to save everything that fell off the bones.  YUMMY!  Homeboy literally frolics in fields of fecal matter (say that ten times fast)… but there’s just something about wiping it out of another person’s buttcrack.  It just doesn’t compare.  Please Mr. Dirty Jobs, drive your Ford truck out to the bay and come do my job!

This is my life.  I love you all.  I really do.  But next time, you got to wash your ass if you must… or else you’ll be FUNK-AY!

Peace & Love. Always.
The Waxer

The first speed bump was just like Justin Timberlake is doing, I went on a short hiatus.
Mine lasted about a week. Just a lot of changes, and lot of craziness, super busy schedules in and out of the wax room, I had a mini life crisis, and then separately my past came back to haunt me. It was a lot to deal with, and I’m only human.  No naturally… I hid.

The second minor hiccup was that I’m still new at this whole blogging technology thing and twitter and whatnot. And instead of just sitting down and figuring it out, I watched the blu-ray release of the Lion King (AMAZING!) I just realized today that people were actually following me and mentioning me in tweets and such. So very sorry for not tweeting you guys back, I totally appreciate the love and I want to send you some in return. I’m trying to do it all Star Wars Force like but I’m not sure if it’s working. If you feel the love suddenly hit you, that’s me girls!
I’ve been trying to write a waxing do’s and don’t's sort of blog. Because I am a waxer, I know.  I mean, this blog is about more than the actual wax itself.  But because I do do what I do… I may as well share my knowledge with you.  What to expect, what to look for, the entire process, yaddayaddayadda. But the weirdest thing is when I actually wax someone and sit them down and explain to them my process, what they should expect, what to do at home, what to look for if they cannot come  to me, etc. it all comes out so naturally. And when I actually sat down with my laptop in front of me and tried to put it into words, I didn’t know anywhere where I wanted to go with it. All the information was in my head but didn’t want to come out. A problem I have a lot.  So look forward to that again.

The third problem is I’m getting kind of annoyed of always having to explain myself.  It’s a personal flaw of mine that I have that I never want to upset anyone, hurt anyone’s feelings, be misunderstood, and I take it upon myself to make sure that every single person I come into contact with is OK.  It started out that I decided to go on this awesome trip just for the day/night. Just take off by myself somewhere exotic(ish). Ok… Santa Cruz.  Actually this place is tweaker central but it’s by the water and I love being by the water. I went and got a tattoo all by my self, I took myself out to dinner, I went and did some pretty touristy things all by myself. And now I got to drive back in a few hours… all by myself. I really thought I was being a grown up and just taking the time to escape from life and just be. Just be alone to think. And the fun part, I even got super drunk last night… by myself. No one ever takes time to just go out and be with themselves. I am one of these people. I get discouraged when no one will go with me somewhere. And get pouty and not want to do it anymore. Too many wasted opportunities have passed me because of my fear of doing something alone. But sometimes you got to put your big girl panties on and just run with it. And I did.

And last night I finally went onto my blog for the first time in a week. Finally having some chill time to myself and having time to actually sit here and just hash it out. Expecting nothing. But nothing was not what I got.

One of my biggest fears as I mentioned earlier is not being understood. I always feel like I need to explain myself, my actions, my motives, etc. Because I don’t want people to look at me and be like, wow that girl is one big B. Plus I hate the feeling of thinking I may have hurt someone’s feelings or am being detrimental to anyone’s personal goal.  I knew when I started this not everyone was going to agree with what I am doing. I even had issues with it too. Which is why when I write I try so hard to not show anyone in negative light or be counter-intuitive to what I’m actually trying to accomplish. Sometimes I see these women, and afterwards I just cry because their story has touched me on such a deep level. These people become a reflection of who I am and my core values. They know my birthday, they bring me crafts they’ve made, they send me post cards from their vacations. And the sad thing is I don’t get to take them home with me, I have to leave them right where they are. As my clients.
I’ve changed so much as a person because of this job. When I think of the word “hot mess” I think of everything I used to be. And right when I got this job was when I was starting to break through as the person I was meant to become. These women helped aid me through this transition, and I’ve touched the lives of many in return. I’ve even had 2 women start up at beauty school to become estheticians because of their experience with me. And it’s awesome to see their progress and I’ve offered my help with any questions or problems that have come up. One girl is about to take her state-board test and met with me outside work just so I can talk her through it. Although my state-board test was just another hilarious story that only compile the very hilarious life I live. One after another, people actually think I lie when I tell these stories about what happens to me but I DON’T… my life is just destined to be hilarious. I’ve learned to roll with it.
So needless to say, I get intimidated when someone acts like a bully towards me, and misinterprets my intentions. Although I am still really confused by it because I’m not exactly sure as the tone of it.  But last night… whoooo.  I’m sitting here on my computer, bottle of Fernet half empty, and I decided to call up one of my closest and dearest friends and explain the situation. Luckily my friend is on the same level as me, in mind, in spirit, and apparently in blood alcohol level. So two drunk people hashing out the problems. Needless to say it was a super hilarious and quite interesting conversation that seemed to go around in loops.  But in the end, she made me see the positive.

The positive is I’m on Google’s search engine. When you type in the words with which I think this person had used when they found me, there I am! Second page! Boo-ya! And when I add one extra little word in there and change it up slightly I’m on the first page. EXCITING.
I’m also getting traffic on my page. Which is also exciting. And either people will make a positive of negative connotation about me. But what matters if they are doing it on their own. I can’t make up people’s minds for them.

I understand my view is a strange one. I’m seen as this open minded free love hippie chick from the bay. A total hipster who loves fashion, spends all her money at Sephora, and can sing a long to every word of Del the Funky Homosapien. I’m a strange individual who is hard to pin point and who’s ideas are all over the place. I know people outside California’s Bay Area look at us like smug little a-holes. I know it’s a culture shock. But it’s who I am. I’m a feminist. My mentor through this all straight called me a feminist. She said “yea you’re not… BUT you are.” I just got to accept it. I’m trying to change the world. But some people are happy the way it is.
My reflections on the world are not alone. I mean look at the millions of people right now camped out in front of their own towns city halls. It brings me to tears to see these people, who’s views I may or may not agree or disagree with. But to see someone so moved to make a brighter tomorrow, it’s touching. It inspires you to want to work on your own brighter tomorrow.

I’m not trying to be defensive or aggressive.  I totally and completely understand this person’s concerns and I do not wish that either.  I think it’s clear what I’m trying to do here with my blog, but I realized before I started this it wouldn’t be clear to all.  I guess it actually took being faced with that fear to actually test the kind of person I really am and how I can handle the pressure.  I partly blame the fact that I am so new at all of this, that I put off a lot of what I wanted and needed to do because I don’t have a huge following yet, so hey, watch The Lion King and do it later.  I felt a little insulted it was almost implied I was being a sneaky sneak and took this idea from someone else.  Once again this is my flaw, of always having to explain myself.  I guess if I hadn’t been so oblivious and while looking into it, by thinking nothing would actually be a problem, then this all actually wouldn’t be a problem.
I did steal the name from someone, I stole it from Elvis Costello. I don’t believe originality in this world really exists anymore. I and many people I know make pop culture references every day. *Cool hhhhwhip* I make quirky total nerd status references in my blogs all the time. Every idea is never a new one. There’s always going to be someone before you that did it before. But that’s what makes us individuals in the long run, is being able to express yourself however which way you want. I thought the name perfectly reflected my main points and what I was trying to accomplish with this blog. Not pain and suffering that comes with a bikini wax, but the sense of accomplishment and empowerment that comes afterwards. And I really like that song so if Elvis Costello has a problem, well then I really don’t know. Because although he’s the nicest guy now, I’ve seen that documentary of him when he was around my age and he was quite a little s**t.
“Peace & Love” is a phrase I’ve signed a lot of letters and status updates with.  Its something that the meaning of means a lot to me and are pretty much the main ideas I live my life with.  I used to be a pretty terrible person (in my own eyes) and when I started to go through this transition, one of the first things I did was get a tattoo of a peace symbol inside a heart so that I could “have peace & love with me where ever I go.”  I knew I wanted to do something with “LOVE” so while thinking about it and being stumped for quite a while, and actually thinking about how I envied a friend’s blog, all of the sudden the lyric popped into my head.
Although my personal faith is not something I wish to go too deeply in, and please forgive me if at any point I come off as preaching, as I absolutely HATE when people do that… I do believe that God has given me all these wonderful things in my life by simply asking for the guidance, and is the inspiration of what I do, and I do believe that God is whatever that means to every person individually and meant to be  honored in every individuals own personal way, God gives me what I need including my inspiration and guides me to do whats best for me.  So naturally when all this happened, I just passed it off as nature’s way of guiding me in the right direction.
This is not a business, not trying to sell anything, not promoting myself as a professional. This is a personal blog, with my own thoughts and opinions. I understand the concern and I too hope that no one stumbles upon this thinking its associated with anything else.  I hope that by finally getting around to what I had originally intended to do for my blog I can finally clear up any confusion that someone who may stumble upon this may have.  Once again, I just believe this is the universe’s way of knowing what’s best for me and actually peeling me away from the television to actually get done what I had set forth to do weeks ago.  And actually giving me my voice back and showing me finally what I wanted to say and where I wanted to go.

And maybe it’s also my fault because instead of typing out the word “and” I used an ampersand because it was more flashy, and domain name’s don’t allow such characters.  And twitter names only allow a certain number of characters. Ooops. All I can say is I am really sorry and thankful I did not listen to what that half a bottle of Fernet was telling me to do.  Yea I know, you’re supposed to sip it.  Didn’t happen.  And your concerns are also mine. And I hope that whomever finds themselves here can read what I’m all about, read what I have to say, and create their own understanding for themselves what and who I am. All I can ever do is be myself. John Lennon told me that. I taught myself how to accomplish it.

I had a weird moment with an ex-boyfriend a few days ago with whom I hadn’t seen in a year. I miss him and love him dearly as he is an amazing friend towards me. One of the reasons I’ve been on hiatus was because I was so concerned with my emotions and how I was going to react to this person re-entering my life. It all turned out to be cool and I expressed my deepest fondest love for my dear friend and hoped our friendship only continued from this point. He’s actually the one who took the lovely picture of me walking down into the train station. A wonderful photographer and wonderful person all around. But he had asked me what I was doing this weekend. And I told him:
GOING TO GO TO SANTA CRUZ ALL BY MYSELF AND DO ALL THESE FUN THINGS AND GET DRUNK AND BLAH BLAH BLAH. And I told him I might go get a tattoo just to get one. It’s like a right of passage in my family to just take off by yourself and get tattoos. My sister did it a few years ago to this same place and got the cutest one on her foot. I’ve got one on my waxing arm… didn’t think that one through.  OUCH!  And it means a lot to me, and reflects who I am, and my faith and love for the world.
We then had a long conversation about tattoos. He has none. I’ve got quite a few. I told him I wished I never got any because I like the look of bare skin. I think it’s sexy and empowering. But since I have them, I may as well finish what I started. I talked about how most of my clients have tattoos and how we talk about them a lot in my room. How they all have a story, they all mean something to these people. How its amazing to hear what these works of art mean to these people. And getting slightly wheepy here realizing where I was going with this conversation, I expressed how empowering it is to a lot of these woman it was to get a tattoo. Even the women who it doesn’t mean much to them and they just got it to get it, it was STILL an empowering moment. I mean I’ve got some that don’t mean much to me and I’ve got some that mean the world to me, including my Peace & Love one.  I expressed to my friend about how I can share my tattoos, and they share theirs, and we get a quick little look into each others experiences. And learn, and reflect on our own.
And I realized… THIS is what this is all about. I’m doing this for everyone who may come here, but I’m also really doing this for me. And this was the very idea I had when I started this. This is why I’m doing this.  Because all these amazing woman around the world are all out there but hardly ever talk to each other and hardly ever really know that although their fellow womankind are going through different experiences, they still might relate to it somehow.  And it may actually help them with whatever it is they are going through.  The act of story telling is very important. I mean, the Grimm brothers united the entire country of Germany through their stories. Why can’t I do something similar.
I want to change the world too. And maybe it might not be on such a large scale as Occupy or the great Change protests of the past, and maybe I’m just some girl with foolish ideas who will never be heard. But change is in the air, I can feel it, and I’m not the only one who feels it. Change is good.

As for Justin Timberlake… you better come back quick, because I need some JT in my life.

Peace & Love.  Always.
The Waxer

This is what I do at work when I’m not working:

Listen to music
Eat out of boredom
Wax body parts
Play online blackjack
Gossip
Watch youtube videos
Play mahjong solitaire
Work on Halloween costume… sewing, glue gunning, bejeweling, etc.
Art and crafts hour
Laugh for absolutely no reason
Text
Check sports scores
Sing
Walk around outside collecting feathers
Go grab coffee
Play with makeup
Facebook
Sleep
Read
Watch Star Wars
Do situps
Draw
Meditation/prayer
Paint nails
Solve Sudoku puzzles
Dance when no one is watching
Enjoy a nice cup of tea
Arts and crafts hour
Sit outside on nice days just because
Clean out and vacuum my car
Fantasize about baseball players
Look at Google Earth
Pay bills
Make sculptures out of the wax
Words with friends
Email
Clothing design
Fill up car oil
Attempt own Brazilian wax
Dance contest
Shopping
Talk about sex
Eat candy
Clean out fridge
Roll around in rolling chair
Blog

High fives to my fellow time wasters.

Peace & Love.  Always.
The Waxer

When people are beyond lost, they tend to have a broken spirit, their eyes are dull, they don’t care anymore, they’ve given up hope.  They don’t shine, they have no aura.  They’re just riding along life with no purpose.  And it’s the saddest thing in the world, to actually come across one of these people.  I have on several occasion, and in some instances because of this job.
Not her.  She had such a bright beautiful personality.  Be was polite, and kind, and sweet.  She had such a positive outlook.  Her spirit was shinning.  She is a perfect 10.
As Perfect 10 and I talked, the conversation swayed from very casual to very intense fast.  She told me of the problems she’s been having with her boyfriend, The Chump, who was an alcoholic.
I once dated an alcoholic for a year and it was so eerie to hear this coming from her mouth.  This was the second time he’s been brought up today with clients.  My birthday is coming up soon and the first time he was brought up, I was explaining to a client why I don’t exactly enjoy my birthday anymore.  Amongst many amazingly awful tales that would sure win me the worst birthday stories ever award, my one cautionary horror story that tops them all was when he ruined my birthday by getting super drunk and punching a hole into the wall in the downstairs bathroom.  It was so weird for him to come up in conversation twice today.  I mean, it’s been about 3 years since last I even spoke to him.  It almost as if he had to come up that day for a reason, which at the time was unknown to me until Perfect 10 came to see me.
She was older than me, maybe in her 40s, but I find it amazing just how many woman from this job I connect with despite their age, race, religion, etc.  As she explained to me her boyfriend, I knew exactly what she was going through.  It’s seems so easy to tell someone to dump that chump, but when you’re actually going through it, living it, it’s a whole different story.  And especially when they are drunk half the time.  Totally sweet one second and a total asshole the next.
I explained to her why some alcoholics are actually that, its scientific, which sounded what might be the case with The Chump.  She let me know his father and brothers were too, just like my ex-boyfriend, his father was too.  There was some kind of enzyme missing in the liver, that was supposed to break down the alcohol in your system or something.  I’m no scientist or doctor, don’t quote me on this.  This is what I remember my alcoholic ex-boyfriend telling me and why he would NEVER drink again… and I saw how that went.  Your body has some kind of weird reactions that you never feel drunk.  Therefore you just keep drinking and drinking and drinking.  And I guess asshole-ism is a common side effect.
And there’s nothing you as a spectator can really do for your loved one.  I’ve dealt with it.  She was dealing with it.  No matter how hard you try, you only get hit worse with the verbal and sometimes physical abuse.  And relationships like that are hard to leave, even when its obvious to you and everyone around you the best thing to do is just that.

Towards the end I stopped caring.  I no longer drove an hour out of my way to get him out of whatever situation it was.  I let him party it up with his immature friends in the mission district.  Stupid fucking drunk hipsters.  I even let him cheat on me.  And he was too drunk to even have any knowledge that he did.  And denies it to this day, well last time I talked to him he was.  And although I know he did, I often wonder if he’s only denying it, or if he really doesn’t know because his addiction was that bad.  And what’s worse is at the time I blamed myself for all of it.  Even though he had pushed me away, I was tired of actually physically taking hits for him from the fights he got into it.  He let me think it was all my fault, he lead me to believe the relationship went downhill because of me.  He made feel like I was an inadequate person.  Then he moved down to LA, started fucking some newly 18 year old model before he had even ended it with me, and lived happily ever after.
Till I found out she grew up, saw his ways, and left him high and dry.  Good for you girl. I never knew you but something inside of me always wanted to tell you to be careful with him.  Apparently he was a serial prosper too.  They were engaged for a while, and he had actually asked me to marry him before he moved away.  I said no.
I don’t know why, I mean, I’m glad I did.  But I guess even at the time I knew something wasn’t right.  I knew he wasn’t the one for me.  And I knew he was a total asshole.  But I still tried to make the relationship work for a while, and after all the shit really hit the fan, still fell into his trap of putting all the blame on myself.

As I shared my experiences with Perfect 10, I could tell some of this was ringing a bell with her experiences with her boyfriend.  She was truly grateful I could share that with her, and empathize with her situation.  It’s weird how fate works, that two total strangers could be brought together to help one another out.  She continued to tell me about The Chump.
And then she said it, what broke my heart.  What this guy had to say about her, when he was drunk and even had the nerve to bring up again to her when he was sober.  And on many occasions.
He told her she wasn’t pretty enough, which is something that sounded familiar with my ex. She wasn’t the hottest woman he’s ever been with.  His ex-wife was hotter.
I’m sitting her looking at this beautiful woman, how could anyone even think otherwise.
Maybe he is so insecure with himself, he’s got to bring everyone else down to his level.  He obviously has self esteem issues.  Maybe he doesn’t feel like he deserves her.
He told her “if any guy were to tell you you’re a perfect 10, he’d be lying”
I told her she was beautiful.  And it wasn’t a lie.  And what was important is that I could tell she believed me.  That I was speaking the truth.
And the worst part is he tries to justify his behavior of telling her such filth by saying “what I’m trying to say is there are other parts about you I love.   You are the total package, why I love you.”
Attitude and personality is what is attractive to me.  And the way you treat me.  You might be the hottest thing since sliced bread, but once your true colors are shown, suddenly you are significantly less attractive.  You become a chump.
And it’s a lesson I’ve come to learn over the years.  To trust my instinct.  And know I am beautiful, no matter what anyone has to say on the matter.
I told her, “you are beautiful.  Whatever you need to do, do it.  Be it stick with him and get him help, or leave.  You’re only human, and you are right to feel hurt.  And you are right to know that maybe you can’t do everything for him.  But only you know the best answer for yourself.  You need to follow your heart.  You need to do what’s right for YOU and no one else.  And don’t ever let anyone let you believe less of yourself.  You are beautiful and I hope you know it”

I read this article about this scientific study done on the human heart beat.  It measured the hearts of individuals and of groups of people together.  Even measuring the heart beats of groups of people who were connected through media etc. but weren’t physically close together. It was shown when 2 people share an empathetic experience their heartbeats actually beat together in synchronize.  I believe our hearts were in sync then.  And all this crap I feel sometimes about this industry is thrown out the window.  I know why it is I do what I do.
I can wax vagina’s all day but when I know I’ve truly touched someone it makes all the difference.  This is why I LOVE what I do.  To know I’ve touched someone’s soul, because ultimately they have touched my soul in return.
Don’t forget that you are all Perfect 10s.  And someone might and most likely in the near future will tell you otherwise, but don’t for a second believe it.  Trust yourself, you are beautiful.

She’s going to be OK.  I just know it.

Peace & Love.  Always.
The Waxer

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