Yesterday afternoon, I was privileged enough to attend a wedding shower of a friend of mine from school that is getting married. (Thus the wedding shower... duh.) I've only ever really been to one wedding shower before - one peril of moving all over the country is that you are rarely there when your friends are getting married.
So, there I was, being all wedding-showery and cutesy and girly, when I had a sudden realization: I had, unknowingly, fallen in amongst the girls that drove me CRAZY in college. The cutesy, flirty, girly, cliquey, PERKY girls. There were no sororities at my college, but if there had been, these girls would have been the presidents and social directors. They were nice and all, but as a group, they were quite frightening. With enough energy to power the Twin Cities for days.
And there I was, smack dab in the middle of one of their wedding receptions.
It was okay, really, except that I felt hairy. Yes, that's right. Hairy. Interestingly, being around these cute petite girls doesn't make me feel huge and hulking like it should, it just makes me feel hairy. I realized, as I sat there during the Opening of Presents, that I hadn't even thought about plucking my eyebrows or shaving my legs in much more time than it takes for plucked/shaved hair to grow back.
So, today became Hair Removal Day. I plucked and I shaved. And the result? I am cut and swollen, and you can't even really tell the difference (except for the swelling and bleeding) because I have BLONDE hair.
But at least now I don't feel hairy!
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