May 13, 2016
Hello, spring, and goodbye Old Man Winter! It’s been a long one, and so I haven’t touched a razor since mid-October. But now that it’s over 70 degrees, I’m tempted to break out my sleeveless dresses and tank tops. The only thing stopping me is my three meters of tangled, knotted axilla tresses.
Is it a bit bizarre that my armpit hair measures one and two-fifths times the height of Shaq? I don’t think so. It’s a natural life process and I’m proud of what I accomplished this Winter Quarter. It’s not my fault snobs and misogynists are afraid of my silky armpit coiffure that is as long as some alligators.
That being said, it’s not all Secret deodorant-scented roses. The length of my pit hair is starting to get in the way of my daily life. Every time I try to wear a muscle tee to the gym or a bathing suit to the pool, my extremely long armpit hair (which is half the length of a full-grown giraffe) gets in the way. I trip over it, people step on it as I walk to class, and I’m starting to use a whole bottle of shampoo per shower!
So I guess it might be time to say goodbye to my underarm mane. Anyone have a razor I can borrow?