A Month of Shame

Hi, my name is Dani, and I'm disgusting.

I've had a sneaking suspicion for a while about my disgustingness, but I finally rowed my ass out of the River of Denial and let reality kiss me full on the lips.


And now I know for sure:

I. Am. Disgusting.

It started out simply enough... I have nowhere to go, for the most part, winter is arriving and wearing shorts is pretty much out of the question, and if I ever need to don a dress and show some leg, I'm pretty sure I'll have a few days notice.

So I got super lazy about shaving my legs.

(The following is TMI... you may want to stop reading right about... NOW.)

Since my legs are covered like 100% of the time, it got realllll easy to not notice the prickly stubble growing in patches here and there along my calves.  

Showering and drying off were pretty much the only instances in which I said, "Ewwww..." and thought that perhaps I should do something about it.

Thoughts are fleeting.

Slowly but surely, the stubble turned in to full blown hair.  I'm not a hairy girl, despite my ancestry (and my mother, aka Ape Woman) so it's not like I was King Kong from the knees down, but still.  Had my house caught fire in the middle of the night while I was sleeping and during my escape I had somehow lost my pants, eyes would have been drawn to my leg hair.  Subtle glances would have become awkward stares.  People would have talked.  I would have been self-conscious and embarrassed about the condition of my calves. 

Has anyone seen my pants?

Meanwhile, as grossed out as I was by my slothfulness, I was also slightly fascinated by the growth of hair.  It became something of a science experiment.

Why, for instance, did hair grow in some places and not in others?  Why is my leg hair patchy?  Why are the strands on the backs of my legs longer than the strands on the front?  

And finally, how long would the hair get if I just never shaved it again?  Would it continue to grow indefinitely, until it was sweeping the floor like a Yorkshire terrier?  Would I receive Best In Show?  Or would it reach a point where it just... stopped?  And then what?  

I'm too sexy for my leg hair.

As I am (still) unemployed, I really had nothing better to do than monitor the growth of my leg hair.

It made me feel slightly productive.  Like I was contributing something to science.

And then, last night, this happened:

Not really me... but totally could be.

Me:  *absent mindedly scratching my calf*

Dan:  *suddenly, after a month, noticing that something was slightly amiss*  "What's all over your leg?"

Me:  "Huh?"

Dan:  *eyes widening*  "Is that... hair?"

Me:

Dan:  *staring rudely*

Me:  "Ummm..."

Dan:  "Is that hair??"

Me:  "Maybe..."

Dan:  "How long has it been since you've shaved your legs??"

Me:  "Uhhh... I dunno, maybe a week?"  

(I am SUCH a liar.)

Dan:  *incredulously*  "A WEEK?"

Me:  "Ummm..."

Dan:  "I will pay you to shave that shit off."


I have been unemployed for 7 months... I would shave my freaking head for cash.

So today, the leg hair is gone.  Shaving it off was even grosser than growing it, in case you were wondering.  

Amen, Sista!