NO OUCH formula?

Is there such a thing when it comes to bikini area maintenance???

I am ALL for: NO pain. No gain.
But seriously.... this pain is a bit ridiculous.

If they can make tweezing and other beauty regimens fairly OUCH-less.
Why not this??

I've tried everything.

Shaving.

Depilatories.

Bikini Waxing.

Bikini Sugaring.

and Pu-lease! ELECTOLYSIS is not pain-free! That is electricity zappin your bits. or LASER Removal.... OY!!!


Believe me, my lady at Shobha is awesome!
She is fast. She is in depth. She is efficient.
I would give her the employee/consultant of the YEAR award if there was one for dealing with my nether regions.
But I sorta wish that there was a trauma meeting after the waxing session, where all someone had to do was pat my nethers and say: "It's OKAY." I'd pay $5 for someone to do that.


C'mon scientists! Vag-specialists!!!
Figure out a way of making this less excruciating.
I take Advil 2 hours before. It still hurts.
I've had countless amounts of services... shows, personal reasons, summer time swimwear fashion...
and it still is like
HOT SEARING PAINS OF TORTURE!


Fix. it. yes?

SURPRISE! I own a hairdryer!

wanna know something annoying?

when you walk up to people and the first thing they say is:
YOU'VE STRAIGHTENED YOUR HAIR!

not.. HI! How are you?

or even... WOW! you loook great!

YOU'VE STRAIGHTENED YOUR HAIR!

thanks, captain obvious. i hadn't noticed when i spent 2 hours doing it.

My friend J said to me: Well... maybe they were surprised!

And I say to that: F*ck that! LAME EXCUSE!!!

there's never a "wow! it looks good. it's straight."

it's just a "YOU'VE STRAIGHTENED IT!"

Yes, dingbat, i own a hairdryer.

and i own a flat iron.

every once in a while we all get together and have tea.

It would be akin to someone saying:

WOW! you have a pimple.
WOW! That blackhead has gotten big.

OR... let's go a step further...

WOW! you have a nose.

there it is.

you have a nose.

no really?!?! you mean... this thing I've been walking around with for the past 27 years is called a NOSE? holy sh*t! wow! nice to see you too!

Ok... I do get it.
I walk around 90% of the time with my hair in an afro.
I get it. The straight look is new to you.
But really???!?!? Figure out some new starting lines.
It's hair. It changes.
If I wanna dye it purple and put a streak of white in it,
the first line you say to me better not be: IT'S PURPLE!!
Why?
Because I will STAMP: CAPTAIN OBVIOUS on your forehead...

...with your own blood.

Pedestrian Terror!!!!

GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!!
LADY, MOVE YOUR BABY!!!!
MOVE!

Bicycle on the sidewalk!!!
Bicycle on the sidewalk!!!
Bicycle on the sidewalk!!!
Bicycle on the sidewalk!!!
Bicycle on the sidewalk!!!
Bicycle on the sidewalk!!!

Son-of-a-LEMUR, You almost killed me!!!

Yo! I get it. You need to get somewhere.
I do too.
You have wheels.
I don't.
But they have a place for people with wheels.
It's called... A STREET.
Do you see pedestrians walking super fast amongst the cars and honking with handheld horns, getting the cars to move out of the way because they're walking?

Chinese Food/Pizza Delivery dude?
Unless you are coming up to your destination immediately, why are you endangering my life? Why are bobbing and weaving out of the crowds like you're on a crash course?
This is my sidewalk.
SIDEWALK.
Not riding. Not rolling.

Are you thinking to yourself...

"Feisty Actress... Why are you being so conservatively boring?"???

B*tch please! Have you been hit by a bicyclist while walking on the sidewalk?

I HAVE.

2 bruises, a scraped hand and a punch in the dude's face later, I can proudly say that I hate people who ride their bikes where they shouldn't.

There's a bike lane.
Afraid of the other rolling machines, aka cars, buses and trucks?

YOU SHOULD BE!!!Be afraid. Be very afraid.

The fear that they instill in you is the fear you instill on every poor pedestrian in your path.
Vengeance is best served cold.
How was the ride towards the pavement, sucka?

Word Up!

When did word choice become chic?

When did BIG WORDS equal intelligence?
(is intelligence considered a big word? do i get into the club?)

I've been sitting around a lot of people lately, and these are people that I love, who hopefully love me... But I'm sitting around these people, and they're using all of these SPELLING BEE words to describe how they're doing or feeling about one thing or the other... and I feel like I need a PD to keep up.

Believe me, I have a love of the English language.
I love the lexicon and all that it provides.
But why does it seem like my brain needs the LAMENT'S TERMS version of everything?

I have a Bachelor's degree. (so?)
I also have an Master's degree. (more loan paying for you!)
And forget about where I got degrees from, and the level of education that they "afforded" me...




But why do I feel like you're trying to make me feel small with what your saying?
Is it how you're saying it?

Perhaps it's just my Ego...
Perhaps I'm too sensitive to your tone of voice...
Perhaps you are more learnéd than I...

The shortest distance between 2 points is a straight line, so why don't you just get to the point and forget about the flowery dressing? Is anyone else impressed by your découpage? (do i get points for that word?)

Anyway... I guess I just wish people could be flat and honest and would leave the frosting on the cake, instead of wearing it too.

Love is?

I have been reading a lot of Pablo Neruda's poetry lately.
And I gotta say... If love could be quantified into just poetry, it would be this man's genius.

Wiki this man.

Enjoy one poem below.
--

THE QUEEN
by Pablo Neruda

I have named you queen.
There are taller than you, taller.
There are purer than you, purer.
There are lovelier than you, lovelier.
But you are the queen.

When you go through the streets
No one recognizes you.
No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
At the carpet of red gold
That you tread as you pass,
The nonexistent carpet.

And when you appear
All the rivers sound
In my body, bells
Shake the sky,
And a hymn fills the world.

Only you and I,
Only you and I, my love,
Listen to me.

----

Yo te he nombrado reina.
Hay más altas que tú, más altas.
Hay más puras que tú, más puras.
Hay más bellas que tú, hay más bellas.
Pero tú eres la reina.

Cuando vas por las calles
nadie te reconoce.
Nadie ve tu corona de cristal, nadie mira
la alfombra de oro rojo
que pisas donde pasas,
la alfombra que no existe.

Y cuando asomas
suenan todos los ríos
en mi cuerpo, sacuden
el cielo las campanas,
y un himno llena el mundo.

Sólo tú y yo,
sólo tú y yo, amor mío,
lo escuchamos.

Do you speak my language?

Having a daily chat with my good friend, JS, I think we found a way of describing what we want from men.

MEN.
Are you reading this?
We want you to speak our language.

Lesson:
Each woman has her own specific language.
(JS has her own. I have mine. We each do.)
It's not just her native tongue.
(English, Spanish, etc.)
I'm talking about... you gotta translate my specific form of crazy.
And make it fluent.
You gotta take all that PMS and morning talk and whatever it is that I like versus what I hate and make ALL OF THAT SH*T into a freakin' symphony.

Become my male Annie Sullivan. I personally think that everything I say makes total and utter sense.
This is obviously not the case.
Otherwise, I would be G-D or the President or what have you.
I realize that I am not any of those things.

BUT... I deserve you to at least try to understand what I want versus what I need.

AND PUH-LEASE.......
Don't tell me that because you're a dude that you don't speak my language and that you never will.

DUDE! If I like you... I can tell you NOW that I try my best to understand you.
To put myself in your shoes.
To listen to your gripes and B.S.
And try to give you the honest, nice, loyal answer in my lexicon, boo-boo.

But I highly doubt that you do the same for me.

I've had 2 triflin' MEN in the past 2 months think that they understand me.
And believe me... I'm being modest. I'm HOT shit, but my vag ain't made of gold. Ya dig?

But the problem is... I understand these men's languages.
I figured them out, and frankly, both of them kept translating to:

P-E-N-I-S-I-N-P-U-S-S-Y-T-O-D-A-Y-?-!-?

I am sick of those smoke signals. They only lead to more fire, and other problems.

For the man out there that does want to get to know me...
GROW SOME BALLS. And BECOME A GENTLEMAN.
Trust me, that's the 1st page in the Fluency book, free of charge.

~Feisty Actress

GRANDMA vs. YOUR EGO

THE FIGHT IS ON.
ding. ding. ding.

In this corner:
the champion, THE GRANDMA.

• doesn't support your career choice.
  
• thought that you were a lesbian... and probably still thinks it... because you don't have a boyfriend or husband.
  
• has friends that call you a HEATHEN, because you don't go to church.
• uses your other family members to guilt trip you into calling her.
• after you've called her, she just wants to tell you that she's lonely... despite there being 5 or more people over her house keeping her company.
  

In this corner:
the challenger, YOU & YOUR EGO.

• confidently devoted to your career and life choices.
  
• loving, caring individual, who calls their parents & siblings whenever they can.
  
• goes to visit your grandmother, which is almost every other week, only to be ignored once you get there.
  
• doesn't like to be called names or pushed into awkward situations by nosy old ladies.
  
• supportive human to most of the family decisions and personal cheerleader of the general well being of the family as a whole.
  

Granted. No person is a saint.
I certainly am not one.
I cuss. I love violence (in films). I lie (sometimes). I have cheated (on a test).

And believe me, I love my grandmas.
(I still have both of them. Mother's side and Father's side.)

But sometimes... and you all know those times...

all you wanna do is SHAKE A GRANNY!

I get it. They're old. They're obstinate.
But they're not the only ones with feelings.
Respect your elders, and all that mess.
But OUFFF! Old people can be wrong too.

Does your grandma or grandpa drive you nuts?