| My Cooterologist Cured My Head Cold. |
So I've had this head cold for a few days. Nothing major, just your run of the mill sniffles and stuff. The thing is, I NEVER get sick. I have an amazing constitution. It's god's peace offering for making me such a shitshow. I may not be able to walk without falling, but I won't break jack shit on my way down!
In any case, I got sick. Just a cold. Whatever. It didn't mess up my life. I just didn't touch any kids at work, and every time I sneezed I washed my hands which means I have scrubbed my skin off. Leper.
But because I'm never sick, everyone was SO MEAN ABOUT MY TINY ILLNESS. Seriously. All the doctors I work with were like "what is WRONG with you?" "I have a cold." "No, but for REAL. WHAT'S WRONG. WHY ARE YOU CRYING?"
Dr Poop came to pick me up the other day and after I said hi, he goes "Why are you talking like that?" "I have a cold." "ew," he said lovingly.
Anyway, you get the point. This cold was cramping my style a bit, but I wasn't going to let it ruin my life because I am an ADULT with PERSPECTIVE.
I had an appointment to get a bikini wax and I wasn't about to cancel it, so I trucked myself over to the salon after work and promptly took an accidental little nap sitting up in the chair while I waited for my cooterologist, who I will call B.
B gently shook me awake and led me back to the room. "You're sick," she said. "Eh, I have a little cold. No big whoop."
B, who is the only woman on earth over whom I tower, looked at me very gravely and said "Meg, a healthy body begets a healthy mind."
"Well, yeah. I suppose that's true."
"We need to do something about your illness."
"It's not really an ILLNESS. I mean, it's a little congestion, sure, but at this time of year, who doesn't have a little cold, right? And besides, look at where I wo-"
"You'll have to stop talking, please."
"Sorry."
She made me lay back and then she rubbed this blue peppermint oil all over my neck and face and chest and arms. I straight up fell asleep. I woke up when she started the wax, unsurprisingly, and discovered that I could breathe like a champ. INHALE. EXHALE. Like it was NOTHING.
I have been congestion-free ever since. I swear. It was like Vicks but not gross and more effective, i felt. Anyway, my cooterologist is a miracle-worker.
The moral of the story is this: if you can trust someone with your junk, you can trust them with the rest of your body. |
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| 12 Comments: |
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That is a great story, but mostly I'm excited because I am now going to call my waxer a cooterologist. I might call my gyn that, too. And perhaps my husband.
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I thought you were talking about your gyno and was waiting for a head/pootie cold connection that I was unaware of. You know. Like referred pain. But with vaginas. :D
Speaking of pain, WAX ON YOUR NETHERS?!? Oy mama! :O :)
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gazelle- girls go to a cooterologist, boys go to a bonerologist. thems the rules.
maxie- i know, I used to feel the same way, but now I am a loyal devotee of the waxing. honestly, if it can be waxed, it should be waxed (in my opinion- on my body). Like if I ever run for president, my platform will be waxing. that's how much i love it.
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Cooterologist? I'm going to try to use this in a sentence and hope no one notices because then I'd blush explaining it.
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I'm changin' my major to Cooterology with peppermint. And Christ, Maxine, wax that thing already!!
~ Piney
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If only I could stand getting waxed. I tried it once and decided it just isn't worth it because I'm married now so why bother being impressive.
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GWCH- I'm a bad influence on you
Piney- that's so fun! I'm going to major in bonerology in med school.
hs- not waxing can be your platform when you run for president, and we can debate waxing on tv. I call sarah palin glasses, which means you get joe biden teeth.
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Do you go to an Aveda cooterologist? Because I work at one of those as an assistant to a bunch of cooterologists (er... estheticians) and they use an Aveda-made blue pepperminty oil all the time. I also sometimes use it to get wax off the floor when they've been overzealous in their waxing.
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oh yeah. Aveda Blue Oil, baby.
Was that what it was?
It is a cure all.
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AA and Lora- you guys are spot on.
It was a freaking miracle oil.
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I am so afraid of being waxed that it's embarrassing.
Why do you call them cooterologists ? I'm Québécoise, something is getting lost in translation. The only relating word I can think of is cooties. lol
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cooterologist is my new favorite word--thanks for that
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Name: A Lover and a Fighter
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That is a great story, but mostly I'm excited because I am now going to call my waxer a cooterologist. I might call my gyn that, too. And perhaps my husband.