I am a hairy person. Think of the hairiest person you know, then think hairier. Think “Harry and the Hendersons” hairy. Anytime I am within a tongue depressor’s distance of an aesthetician, they find something new to wax. (This is how I learned the hard way that upper-lip waxing is not something you should agree to do lightly.) I’m super laid-back in the vanity department, so I am pretty used to waxers offering — nay, begging — to rip hot wax off my eyebrows, my upper lip, my arms, my legs and my lady parts. What I am not used to, however, is the suggestion that I fly to Colombia to get liposuction. Keep reading »