When the going gets tough, the tough go girlie. It’s been nearly 18 months since I’ve seen a penis. The real, in-front-of-you kind, not the creepy ChatRoulette cyber ones. This has been the longest dry spell I’ve had since I gave it all up at senior prom. But as I get older, I seem to embrace the inactivity more. It is just easier to say no when you have a two-tiered entrance exam. (1) Is he worth shaving my legs for? If I answer yes, then we go to (2) Does he seem more fun than my dog? That answer has been No a few too many times which has driven me to new forms of attention: taking care of Number One.
In a four-day period recently, I had a serious pedicure (paraffin wax, callous sanding, etc..); I had my hair professionally colored; I bought new makeup and under eye/bag eye concealer; and I bought new perfume. Most women would agree, all of these things make us feel good. But it’s starting to get addicting. Right now I’m shopping Zappos and Bare Necessities while I try to book a wax appointment.
Hopefully I’ll snap out of this soon which will probably happen when I have to pay to get my roots done for a date that will turn out to be a waste of time. A girl can dream. Until then, I have dog walks, e-commerce, and a vibrator.