I have always held the belief that the razor industry has been screwing us gals.
We shave more skin footage than men (is ‘skin footage’ a thing? It is now) we also have curvier ‘bits’ than men (ie: ankle bone) … and don’t play the ‘but the face is more sensitive’ card with me either – we all know we women shave areas FAR more sensitive than a face. And yeah, as we age, on occasion, we shave OUR faces too.
I remember a time women would get 2 blades versus men’s 3. Then the razor companies stepped up their game and when men got 4, count ’em FOUR blades, we eventually got 3 – and so on.
The problem with the ‘ladies’ razors is – THEY DON’T BLOODY WORK! Well, they DO bloody us.
And when we’re nicked, and that first spray of water hits our tiny wound, shower water suddenly transforms into lemon water. This, I am certain, is a scientific fact.
So you try the ‘safety blades’. You know the ones – they have those little vertical wires across the already ridiculously ineffective horizontal blades.
Look how happy this woman is shaving ….
She even drew a happy face into her shaving cream, you know why she was able to? Because the blades are so dull there was no danger. And GAWD! Don’t get me started on shaving cream! Too late.
I don’t WANT perfumed, expensive gels or foams on my leg. Especially when a blade and skin is involved. Who in their right mind wants fragrance involved in a skin nick?
Plain old $1 Barbasol works for me – never mind paying triple for gel that is going to leave my shaved parts itchy.
‘Designed for the way a woman shaves’. What does that mean?
Men apparently shave WITH the grain of their facial hair growth, but not on the neck.
Well, I’m here to tell you that there are parts we shave with the grain, and parts we don’t. So I really don’t know wha the big difference is.
I do know one difference. The price of the flipping razors.
We’re screwed there too.
I just stopped buying women’s razors all together and got better results and less financial hemorrhaging to boot.
Won’t be long before they start selling tiny little squares of toilet paper geared toward women to put on their curvy cut bits. And the crazy thing is – there are women who would buy them!
And they’d be twice as expensive as toilet paper!
Stop the maddness! And give us ladies a razor that works – for the same price as a man’s one!
Me: Glaucoma man is here.
Jim: What’s his name?
Me: Glaucoma man … I don’t know. I don’t name them, then I won’t feel so bad if I lose one.
Immediately upon introducing the two, Jim got his name.
So, now you do too.
Glaucoma man is Roger.
And he’s sporting some serious shorts today.
All this time, we shared our lives, but never our names. He still doesn’t know mine. Oh! I ran into him at the grocery store last week! It was bizarre.
I was getting groceries the morning I was to pick up Jim at the airport, and I heard a familiar voice in the cereal aisle.
It’s like seeing a teacher out of school … or a co-worker in an unexpected place.
He showed me his new haircut and asked why I wasn’t at work. When we parted, he said “Don’t work too hard.”
I found that odd. Well, the whole interaction outside of the laundromat was odd.
It’s been a great weekend. I would say it’s been weird adjusting to having a roommate, but it hasn’t been. At all.
What we ARE still adjusting to, is the integration of my dog and his cat. It’s going well. But Butters (as Jim so appropriately described her) is like a bowling ball with legs.
Her eagerness might end up causing Draper an injury. So we’re very watchful when they’re together.
And yes, they’ve reached the point, after a few nights of pining and sniffing and exploring – of being in the same room.
We followed the SPCA’s advise and rewarded Butters for calm behavior walking past the baby gate divide. Draper was on one side, leashed and Butters leashed on the other. Each with their person.
We were determined not to rush it.
Needed it to be a positive experience for each of them.
We still have a lot of work to do … but making great progress.
So many new people here today – people I’ve never seen before. Glaucoma man is leaving, I feel a little out of place now.
Then I glance over at my honey’s seat and he’s been drawing as I have been writing …
And now I don’t feel out of place anymore.
Everything is as it was meant to be.
Was running a little late today – took time to take a shower, have a cup of coffee. Then had to run to the store for the Easter goodies I have been putting off.
Glaucoma man was still here when I arrived. The place is practically empty.
He did something he’s never done before. Sat down at my table. We talked for quite a while about a wide range of topics.
He wondered if I had children. We spoke of medical marijuana, about his sister. About the passing of his mother. We spoke of not wanting to drive out-of-town. Of funerals.
He said his sisters may be coming into town and he’s excited, but doesn’t want to get his hopes up.
I’m just glad he sat down. It’s like we shared a little bit of Easter together.
I love listening to people sharing their lives.
And I really try to hear. Hear the wisdom, the lessons – hear what worked for them, what didn’t.
Someone with 80 years has a lot to share. But, that doesn’t automatically mean they have all the answers. That they’ve lived in a way in which they’re proud.
He shared some of his defects of character with me too. And I just listened.
And now he’s gone to do his shopping. And I’m sat wondering if he has children. What he’ll put in his cart. How he’ll spend the rest of his day.
Today though, was for listening and not asking questions.
Can’t sleep. And I should be. I don’t fair well the following day with my heart when I don’t have a good nights sleep. But ironically, it is my heart keeping me up.
In less than 1 week, my love will be sharing my bed – my life – our home.
“Heart beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave?
How can I love when I’m afraid to fall?
But watching you stand alone,
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow.”
We had our last ‘virtual’ date night tonight. And he shaved. I saw the man/young man I saw 25 years ago.
He is so beautiful.
He was so beautiful anyway.
One step closer
I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don’t be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I’ll love you for a thousand more
I unfriended a mutual friend tonight. Someone who mattered, but hurt me. Someone we both thought important, but disappointed us. I’ve never, ever had to edit myself with my future husband, and we spoke of this person a few nights ago.
I was left with a pain that had no realistic release. The only solace I had was knowing, I had finally found true love in the person I was sharing the story with. The person who already knew.
And the reason I sought out this person again was to find my Jim.
And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I’ll love you for a thousand more
I’m a little frightened – in a good way. A little fraught with minor worries, in a good way – about adjusting to life with a partner after so many years alone. But mostly, and so gratefully, excited to feel like we have a complete ‘home’ less than one week away.
Happy Birthday Nicholas Avery Charles …
Tomorrow, you will be 20.
I don’t know where the time went – and I’m finding myself unable to truly say everything I want to. You have been the constant in my life for these two decades – and I’m not sure how to explain how much that has meant to me.
I clung on when you turned 18 with the knowledge you were still a teen. Knowing we don’t automatically become adults at the stroke of midnight. Suddenly wiser than we were at 11:59 p.m. when we were 17.
I sat in the comfort that I still had a ‘teenager’ because it meant you were still mine.
And now – tomorrow – you’re going to be 20.
I don’t know where 20 will take you, but I know you’re going to have fun finding out.
Because you have become an amazing, free thinking, curious, unique young man.
Funny, fun-loving – a gift to be around.
You’re a caring, considerate and thoughtful friend.
A generous, loving and loyal boyfriend.
And an incredible, accepting and authentic son.
I return to the fact that I just do not have the words to let you know how special you are to me. Some things can’t be written. Only felt.
My eyes are full – my chest is tight – my love for you is infinite.
I am so glad you were born bird.