I've Abandoned My Razor.

No, I'm not a bra-burning hippie feminist...though my insane drive for maintaining the independence I've created would have some wondering if I were raised in a feminist household...

Musicians and performers normally rehearse the week before a show. Not me. I gave up shaving. I did this for multiple reasons, one being that it's so anti-Dawn to be this sloppy and, um, scruffy. For those of you who don't know me, I'm extremely anal retentive. Everything's got to be clean starting with my body. As a matter of fact, my hygiene has reached new heights with the recent purchases of various lotions and potions to add to the already-obscene collection of "girly" products in my bathroom. But, I rationalized the notion that if I did this random act and eliminated shaving from my routine for a week, my skin would be sparkly in time for the show (and not to mention as soft as a baby's bottom.)

Please note: With a delay due to global warming, New York City has now officially entered phase one of the autumn solstice therefore allowing me to revel in my long sleeve t shirts and jeans.

My point: I'm covered.

I have to admit, abandonment of said product has become a rather painful experience. I cringe when I put socks on over my prickly legs and I can't bare to look at my underarms in the mirror. But what has added insult to injury is that (after months of NOT doing this) I actually slept over a boy's house. Am I crazy? The answer is yes. Though I thoroughly enjoyed his company, it was torturous trying to keep all articles of clothing in tack. So I fell asleep in his arms in full gear. Jeans and all.

Conclusion: I'm running to the salon by week's end for a full-body waxing. "AAHH, KELLY CLARKSON!"