Tag Archives: dating horror stories

Wax On, Wax Off

18 Sep

I have never made a secret of the fact that I hate dating. I don’t take any joy in the dressing up, the flirting, the awkward first date conversation. The thought of having to dip my toe back into the dating pool is less appealing than getting a rectal exam from Edward Scissorhands.

Just as many women are, I am riddled with insecurities. My thighs are too wide, my nose is too big, and I am sure that my breasts and waistline are slowly trying to become one entity. I look at men’s magazines and see what men want. I’m just not the kind of girl who looks good frolicking in a string bikini at sunset.

One of the things I hate most about dating is the “maintenance” associated with it. We’ve got to keep our skin clear, our hair nicely coiffed, and mostly importantly, our body hair to a minimum. As someone whose mustache could grow to impede my ability to breathe through my nostrils, this is no easy feat.

The most torturous of our follicle upkeep is the bikini wax. I have a pretty high threshold, but even I cannot help but wince at the idea of hot wax being ripped from my chicken mcnugget.

At one point in my life I was much more of a masochist, and kept my Virginia Woolf in check with the use of a waxer. The girl I went to at the time was amazing, but as with all great beauticians, they eventually become overbooked. I consulted the internet, and found a woman who had a slick website, and great rates. Continue reading

Love Connection

17 Nov

NaNoWriNO Day 17

Topic: Dating Shenanigans


I’m a long-term relationship girl. I’m not commitment-minded in the least bit, but every few years someone comes along, and we somehow end up in a pretty serious relationship. It goes something like this: we meet, we’re friends, he tells me he loves me, we try dating, and then we’re heading to Ikea to pick out our new couch.

Still, I’ve been on actual dates. You know, the ones where you shave your legs for the first time in a month, and you eat a salad at dinner, and then you wait for him to call you? At least I think that’s how it goes. I wouldn’t know because I just wear jeans to hide my leg stubble, order a steak, and then never wait by the phone because I barely remembered I went on a date.

There was a period in my life when I went on so many “one date only” dates that it felt like being stuck in an episode of Love Connection.

Chuck Woolery, matchmaking badass

Let’s meet some of my potential suitors, shall we? Continue reading

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