WARNING! This post contains girly stuff, that if you don't want to hear about it, move on!

So we are in the last week before the big day. My friend Rebecca is finishing up with beauty school, and offered to do my hair for the wedding. I will be her model in September when she takes her Boards. I went down to her school yesterday, for a little practice session. The girl who has the chair next to her is Indian, and is Threading a woman's eyebrows. I ask if she could do my upper lip. I have never had threading done before, and it is supposed to be very good. Jen had done the peach fuzz on Rebecca's face a few months ago, and it looked great. Subtle and smooth. Jen just leans me back, and starts. No time to think about it.

Oh my god. The excruciating pain.

The twisting thread rips the hair from your skin. Not like wax, which sort of gets it all at once, and fast, but slower somehow. It's ripping it out in a wave, so the pain travels across, and lasts. She went very fast, but not fast enough. If I weren't so vain, I would have stopped at half. But the thought of fuzz on one side only was enough to soldier forward. It looks great, suble and smooth, but it is still a little tingly the next day.

Today is a big sewing day-huppah, ring pillow, and hopefully finishing the dress! I have to move the zipper from a very fashionable side seam, under the arm to a CB. I will never be able to get the dress over my head with hair and makeup done, and I don't want to sit around in the dress for three hours, getting it all wrinkly. What could I spill on a white dress in three hours?