If you read the earlier incarnation of this blog, you may recognize this entry. I'm re-posting it with some minor tweaks. See, I lied when I said I deleted everything--never trust bloggers...or a lion in capri pants (long story).
Shaving is annoying, naturally. I don't think anyone likes to shave. To say "I hate shaving" is to say "I hate traffic," or "I hate when I take something out of the microwave and it's still cold in the center," or "I hate being eaten alive by ravenous piranhas." It's just one more thing you have to do every day to get ready (or every three days, if you're lazy like me).
I have extra reasons to hate shaving, though. One is that I have sensitive skin that gets irritated easily, even if I'm using one of those state-of-the-art razors with 47 blades that you have to take a second mortgage out for. The other is that I have a baby face. Whenever I shave, I instantly look like I'm 15, which is turn-off for any woman who isn't Mary Kay Letourneau.
I think a few days' stubble is my look. The trouble with maintaining said look is that "a few days' stubble" quickly turns into "unkempt," which requires shaving, with leads to more baby face. I need to find a way to maintain the stubble, like Matthew Fox on Lost. He was on that island for 108 days and somehow managed to have perpetual 5 o'clock shadow. It was one of the mysteries of the island, like that dumb Egyptian statue thing that they never really explained.
Beard trimmers really only work on full-fledged beards--they don't have a stubble trimmer yet. But you know there has to be a market for something like that--have you ever walked into a coffee shop in Silverlake?
I suppose for now, I'm doomed to shaving. But I can dream of a razor breakthrough for stubblephiles...or crash-landing on a magic island.