On Extended Breaks and Razor Bumps

It has been over a month and I have yet to impart on you, my darling readers, any fun, moderately offensive, or sarcastic commentary on life, the universe, and everything.

I blame this partially on graduation and the rather hectic weeks leading up to it, partially on personal issues and illness, and partially on somewhat of a lack of things to say.

Part of me felt the need to blog anyway, but I found that nearly every time I tried, what surfaced was mostly just a commentary on whatever entry I had read that day on The Seventeen Magazine Project [http://www.theseventeenmagazineproject.com (which, while now finished, has been followed up by a new project run by the same somewhat fascinating mind, http://www.teenagerie.com)]. I found that while my interest in reading and frequenting other blogs increased and became more consistent, my ability to come up with somewhat original content was slightly hindered. (To be quite frank, the comments about my blog being apologetic, pseudo-intellectual, and offensive certainly didn't help).

I am (hopefully) proud to say that I am (hopefully) back, as the summer between senior year and college shows the potential for many reasons to rant and rave for a couple of paragraphs on a regular basis.

One of my more personal problems with the summer season is, I feel, actually pretty common. In all honesty, I do not like shaving. In fact, between razor bumps, cuts, dry skin, and general time consumption, I find it to be the least enjoyable part of my summer. Do not mistake me, I find smooth legs to be as entertaining as the next person, because soft skin is more touchable and fun. But summer finds me in need of shaving...pretty much everywhere. Bathing suits mandate a clean bikini line, t-shirts and tank tops and such require well-groomed underarms, and shorts, skirts, swimsuits, and pretty much any clothing suitable for 90 degree weather demand shaved legs. I, like many girls, find this whole process annoying and also find that, 9 times out of 10, my knees are still stubbly after shaving.

And you know what I've noticed? The only people who really seem to care are other girls or the ill-shaven themselves. The people asked to marvel at a well-shaven leg? Close female friends. The person most likely to comment on your hairy knees? Yourself. The one most likely to comment on your bikini line? ...Okay, a lot of the time that's a guy. I've just noticed that, assuming that nothing is absurdly grotesque, the only person who really cares about your shave is, well...yourself. So maybe it's not such a huge deal after all. No one gives a crap about your hairy knees. Go in peace.

Back and better than ever (hopefully),
Rachel Leigh