Self induced mange happens on Makeover-Day when a 7 month pregnant lady realizes that though she hasn't SEEN her lady region in a couple of months that she CAN feel something going a tad astray. I know, I blogged about not being able to self groom a while back and how I was thinking about letting my husband do some landscaping. He IS Mexican, it's like, what they do in the States, I should trust him.
But no. I'm still not mature enough to let him at it even though he nearly begs. Too squicky (thanx for the word Krissie) for me.
So. A couple of months later I find myself feeling the she-region up in wondrous-fascinating-horror and deciding I can't go one more second growing a jungle. Monkeys could live in there at this point and I hate monkeys. Hate me tree huggers but the forest must be made into a park. A lovely park for my husband to hang out in when the weather is nice. :P
Scissors? Wow no, I tried and damn to the shit it's hard as hell to cut blindly, just never mind. My husbands face trimmer? You guys told me to use it and I listened but I was so far beyond trimming that it just combed through my shiny locks and left me more groomed perhaps, but everything intact. So. You know what I did. I psyched myself up like I've done 1,206 other times in my life and told myself "Oh, it'll be ok, I'll do it smart, I'll just use it as a strait edge razor not as a leg razor and I'll be like all intelligent in my use of it and wield it like a professional sculptor." Or something.
Something of course results in Self Induced Mange.
Call me "patches."
NO, I can't just give up and go natural, I'm not as cool as some people (Hi Jenny!) I just can't seem to get used to the FEEL of it. I like my house open, I need things organized and tidy to function right and not be cranky - so why would the lady parts be any different? I am what I am, and I am. . . patchy.
I will never EVER learn.