Disclaimer 1: This post deals with areas of the female body that you might not necessarily want to read about.  Feel free to skip over this entry, but if you choose to read it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.  Also, Mom, please don’t print this one out for Grandma.

Disclaimer 2: I’m not kidding.  I didn’t leave that first disclaimer to entice you into reading this post.  If you don’t want to read about my lady parts, turn back now.  Seriously.

Now that I’ve taken care of that, I can comfortably tell the story of my laser hair removal procedure.  I promised myself I wasn’t going to blog about it, but I’m short on post ideas, and after all, there’s gotta be someone somewhere who is interested in this, right?  Some friends and I have been talking about going in for the procedure for a couple of months now, and after doing some research, we decided to get our bikini lines lasered.  In the States, something like this easily costs over a thousand dollars.  Here in Korea, it’s really cheap.  Well, really cheap without being unsanitary and dangerous (I hope).  Our thought was that it would be really nice to never have to deal with ingrown hairs or razor burn or scrambling to find a razor at the last minute on vacation again.  Besides, at less than $70 bucks a session (and only four or five are needed), I think it’s totally worth it.

So that’s the backstory.  Thursday morning, we went to a neighborhood clinic that performs the removal.  The receptionist/nurse didn’t speak much English, and the doctor with whom we met was only marginally better.  He did see all three of us at once.  The consultation lasted about 15 minutes, during which time he had the three of us drop our pants together.  Could have been very weird and awkward, but somehow was alright.

At the conclusion of the consultation, he said there was time for us each to have the first round of lasering (I know that’s not a word, but I’m not sure what else to say) done that morning.  We agreed to it, and within minutes, I was on my back on a medical table, holding two packs of ice on my nether region.  After about 20 minutes of this and a dry shave from the nurse (ow ow owwwww), the doctor came in.  He gave me protective eyewear to put on, so I missed the big show.  The machine he used simultaneously lasered and blew cold air on me, so as to continue the numbing.  I was done after about 10 minutes and had no redness or irritation, which was a real relief.

I don’t have a very high threshold for pain, but I found this procedure to be relatively painless.  It hurt more to ice my bikini line than to have a laser shooting into my body, murdering hair follicles.  A few times, I felt the laser doing its thang, but for the most part, I didn’t feel anything.  Afterwards, I bought some lotion that’s supposed to soothe the area, but I haven’t used it even once yet.

All in all, I haven’t seen any change, but that’s to be expected after only 24 hours.  In another four weeks, I’ll go in for the second round.  Friends I’ve talked to about it said that it gets more painful as the end result nears, but I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

So that’s it as far as telling the world about my foray into the world of cosmetic procedures.  Stay tuned next week to hear all about my reverse nosejob (to get a Jewish schnoz, not to file down the honker)!

Alas, I kid.  But seriously, Mom, do NOT let Grandma read this entry.  I am not kidding about that.