THAT'S REVOLTING!!

I didn’t shave today. I could have. I probably should have – if I was younger, but I didn’t. I stood in the shower, considered the Alberta field stubble on my calves and said ‘No! I will not!’

I can hear you already, asking ‘But… Why??’ in that whiny ‘but why’ voice. The answer is simple. I am revolting! I am protesting first the fact that I live in what is supposed to be the warmest part of the country, but which is, in fact, experiencing AGAIN temperatures that are on the south side of -20. The joke here is that we pay a ‘Sunshine Tax’ for the privilege of living here, in the land of milk and honey, where the sun always shines. Well, where is the freaking sunshine today? I realize the sunshine tax yet your still in Canada thing is a bit delusional on our part, something that could be blamed on hypothermic hallucinations or permafrost of the brain, but come on! We do have a desert just 90 minutes from here, a little desert, the only one in Canada, but we all know what deserts are like at night. Imagine an icy desert night, then multiply it by the number of days that it does not get a chance to warm up in these frigid temperatures, and you have the makings of a new horror movie setting – sorta like my legs are right now.

The second protest is about the need for women to shave. Sorry, but as I age, warmth becomes a very precious commodity. Hair works for dogs and cats and musk ox (no, my legs are not quite that bad… yet), so why not for me? I think we should embrace the hair, wear it proudly (okay… maybe not in the armpits, because they are always the last place to get cold). I am even considering fertilizer for my legs, encouraging the hair to grow just to fight off the damned cold. Who is gonna know anyways? We hear heavy socks, high boots, long underwear, snowsuits… our legs are not gonna see the light of day for at least a couple months. If, by chance though, I find myself soaking up some rays in Maui or Malibu, I will perhaps take pity on those around me, and get out the weed whacker -- that’s what it will take by that time – but only if I know the temperatures will be warmer here when I get back home.

OH SAY CAN YOU SEE....

Okay, ladies, hands up if you remember the first time you had to ‘feel’ what you were shaving, rather than see it. You know what I mean, that day in the shower when you were doing your normal toilette and were sure that you had just taken care of every hair on your leg, but then realized that without your glasses on, and in the shower, with that really poor lighting that exists in every shower, that you didn’t see the damned hairs there before you started either. Next thing you know, you are running your hand across the leg, checking for stubble, hoping that despite the calluses on your fingers, they will not lie to you about something as obnoxious as a stubborn leg hair.

Of course, this is inevitably followed by, the minute you get out of the shower, the placement of glasses on nose to inspect the work, which is followed by the required curses indicating that of course you missed that great swath of grossness across your calf. Of course, this is no reason to go back to using your Epilady, that apex of the self-mutilating torturous hair care products some asshole told us would change our lives (they did... they made us want to pin down the sucker and remove every inch of his hair with the damned thing). It still, though, is an issue that required addressing.

There is no cure for this problem. We can’t hold our legs out further, like we might a newspaper. We can’t adjust the angle they are attached to us, and we can’t just sprinkle Majik Hair Remover on them that will solve the problem for eternity. We could get electrolysis, or go for waxing, because who doesn’t look forward to hot wax being dumped on your skin for the sole purpose of ripping out all the hair by its roots? We could ask our significant other to help with the razor, which might create some fun extracurricular activities, but it certainly is not the most expeditious way to deal with the problem when you’re in a hurry. (Not to mention, his eyes could well be as crappy as your own for this sort of detail.)

All of this, though, begs one stunningly simple question that could well be the answer to the problem. If you can’t see the hair on your legs, and your significant other can’t see the hair on your legs (without adjusting his glasses and pulling out a spot light), perhaps there is no hair there to worry about? It could be easy to convince ourselves that yes, it did in fact miraculously vanish, and other than for a quick blind touch-up every couple of weeks, you’re fine. No worries! Even if you are fooling yourself, though, take heart in this one simple fact: even Magilla Gorilla gets lucky once in a while.