On Shaving

I noticed today that it's been awhile.

I can't say I have any pressing motivation to shave. My cat and dog are far fuzzier than me, and never complain about my stubbly legs when we snuggle up in bed at night. And I don't generally let guys see my legs on the first date. There's been a few 'first dates' lately, but no second dates, so it's just not an issue. I'd hate to feel like I put an effort into a bad date...

Part of the problem is that I shower in the morning. Mornings are not my friend. I have my morning routine timed down to the second, so I can sleep as late as possible, have a seven-minute shower, get dressed, pack my lunch, and get out the door in time to get to work within 5 minutes of when I am supposed to arrive. Seven minutes is not nearly long enough to shave. I have a lot of leg.

I once had a hair-growing contest with Mr Wonderful. Mr Wonderful can not grow a beard. The best he can manage is a sad sort of fu manchu, which, in reality, looks like someone glued a mangy rat to his chin. Mr Wonderful decided he wanted to grow a beard.

I told him he did not want to do that.

He insisted.

I told him that if he stopped shaving, then I would stop shaving. That conversation happened in November. Let's just say I only went swimming at night the following summer. Alone. Or with a minimum personal space of six feet between myself and my nearest companion.

My legs scared me, but didn't deter Mr Wonderful. I think we broke up before either of us actually caved and bought a razor. I shaved the morning after I moved out. With relief.

I spent a good bit of last year travelling in North Africa and the Middle East. Their interpretation of the toilet is a hole in the ground. With a porcelain footrest, if you're lucky. And a tap on the wall. No soap. No toilet paper. Nowhere to even dispose of toilet paper.

Part of my challenge was learning to do what the locals did. That meant eating with my (right) hand, and learning to cope without TP. I spent my fair share of time in public baths also, where I was educated as to local hygiene rules. As in, it is 'more hygenic' to 'wipe' with a (left) handful of water when you are bare 'down there'. I learned to shave. Everything.

I got used to that.

It's pretty sad when the sight of your own slightly furry crotch reminds you it's time to shave your legs...