The tops of my feet are sweating. Genuinely. I don't mean like they're a little stanky or whatever, but there are genuinely little droplets of Me-Juice gathering in and around my toe-hair follicles. Mmmmmmm.
That's the only part about being Indian that I don't like, really--we sweat a lot, and grow hair in all kinds of places where we're not meant to. And it's real hairs, none of this Wispy Blonde Shit. This morning I think I gave my roommate a scare when she walked in on me with Lady-Stache Removal Cream* all over my face.
Also, we have this oscillating fan in our room, and when it turns toward me I have this awful emotional conflict where I'm happy to have the breeze but my flyaways keep tickling my face and it is very uncomfortable. On the other hand, without the breeze I have no tickles but It Is Very Hot.
Oh God, the angst.
_________________________________________________________________
*Not the actual name of it.
That's the only part about being Indian that I don't like, really--we sweat a lot, and grow hair in all kinds of places where we're not meant to. And it's real hairs, none of this Wispy Blonde Shit. This morning I think I gave my roommate a scare when she walked in on me with Lady-Stache Removal Cream* all over my face.
Also, we have this oscillating fan in our room, and when it turns toward me I have this awful emotional conflict where I'm happy to have the breeze but my flyaways keep tickling my face and it is very uncomfortable. On the other hand, without the breeze I have no tickles but It Is Very Hot.
Oh God, the angst.
_________________________________________________________________
*Not the actual name of it.
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