We have lots of new followers, so I thought my first blog should be it’s own page on the site, which will answer the burning question that all of you are asking:
Meg, WHY would you choose to Name your Blog “Just SHAVE Your LEGS!”?
Just SHAVE Your LEGS!
Everyone keeps telling me, “Megan, so much has happened to you! Your life should be a sitcom,” or “you should write a book”. Unfortunately to date I have not had any sitcom offers come up (feel free to contact any network execs you know), and I CERTAINLY don’t have the attention span to sit myself down and write an entire book. I did get to thinking, in the shower (where I come up with ALL of my Grandiose ideas) that when I am really down and feeling sorry for myself, it always helps to try and think of “it could be worse”. Also, I’ve been told that I make people laugh (besides with just my looks and singing). That’s when it hit me, like a raging, stinking, sweaty bull in mating season: I could use this new fangled (sarcasm font) blog technology! So for better or worse, I have decided to start chronicling some of my more adventurous moments… via blog, in the hopes that they will bring some much needed laughter, and perhaps perspective, to those who need it. Be warned, just like me, this will probably be quirky, and bounce around like a squirrel with ADHD on a sugar-high.
I thought it only appropriate to start with the life moment that lead to the title of the blog, “Just shave your legs!” There I was, laying in the ER at 4 am in the morning in excruciating pain, being told that my gall-bladder is septic, inflamed and full of stones, and I would need to be operated on in the next 5 hours. You can imagine the doctor’s surprise when I busted up laughing. OK, sure, it could have been the WONDERFUL Dilaudid (pain medication) that was finally easing the pain…but I’m pretty sure it was the irony of the situation. I was going to be wheeled into the OR (Operating Room) and THERE I was, in all my radiant glory:
First, I LOOKED and SMELLED like a hot MESS!! I hadn’t brushed my teeth in 8 hours, and had NASTY morning breath. Plus, all the meds they were pumping into me were causing dry mouth and further exacerbating halitosis. Sadly, there is NO way to brush your teeth in the ER. Not to MENTION my hair and jammies were a trip.
But even WORSE is the fact that of COURSE Aunt Flow (yes boys, my period) was still visiting. It’s a well known fact that a lot of ladies don’t wear our best undergarments when “Aunt Flow is in town”. This is because, even though it’s the 2000’s, the “cutting edge” technology in women’s menstrual products hasn’t changed since the 50’s. As a result, almost always, accidents involving “Aunt Flow” still happen. As per my tendency though, I wasn’t wearing JUST old granny panties, or even stained ones. OOOH NOOOOO!! Nala (our new puppy) has a disgusting fetish with the crotch of…unwashed women’s undergarments (need I say more?).
Unfortunately, I didn’t notice that this particular pair of panties had been accosted until right before I went to bed Friday night. Since it was late, I though “I’m just going to bed anyway, and I’m exhausted so I’ll trash them in the morning.” MISTAKE #1! It was at that moment in the ER that I realized the panties I was wearing were SOOO HOLEY that Swiss CHEESE would have been a better choice for undergarments. How was I going to explain THAT to the staff. When I admitted my crime of poor pantie choice to my AMAZING ER Nurse, she giggled and responded with, “Oh that’s ok honey they have to come off during surgery anyway because you’re going to be catheterized.” Then without stopping to think at ALL about what I was saying (in typical Megan fashion), I blurted out: WHAT? But I’m in my period! I need my panties! Can’t I just wear them in and we stick the catheter through one of the holes?” By this time she was crying laughing, and responded with “Honey, we can do whatever you want, you’ve had a rough night.” Then I realized that I had just doomed myself to show off my swiss cheese…I mean panties (or lack thereof) to the entire O.R.
The nurse started sticking me with sensors because when you are in surgery, they need make sure you are still alive and doing well during the procedure (minor detail, right?). That’s when the final horrifying realization hit me: “WHEN was the last time I shaved my LEGS!?” I pulled up my gown, and glanced down at the two carpeted stilts in front of me and gasped in horror. No WAY will they be able to get the sensors to stick on those forested legs!! This is when I started laughing and crying at the same time and told the nurse “Good luck getting sensors to stick on the Everglades down there. This is ALLL my fault that I’m here tonight! I’m such a HOT MESS that Murphy couldn’t HELP but execute his law on me!”
This (FINALLY) brings me to the “moral” of the entire story, and the one piece of wisdom that I will be sure to pass on to my daughter, and every woman that I care about:
Nothing bad will (probably) happen to you…
if you JUST SHAVE Your legs
(and landscape and wear nice panties)!!