Pardon me while I scratch my balls.

Remember that middle aged female teacher with the mustache or crazy chin hairs we all made fun of in high school? Yeah, well karma is a dirty bastard and his name is testosterone. I am losing my mind over this thing. You know how people fantasize about the things they would do if they won the lottery? Stuff like "I would hire a personal chef" or "I would have a live-in massage therapist". After I started my charitable foundation, I would hire a personal groomer. This person's daily responsibility would be to comb over my body and face every few hours looking for stray hairs with the intensity of a starving chimp combing a band mate for fleas.

For those of you who are too young or lucky enough not to have experienced this phenomenon, hormone levels begin to change as you age. Women always have female and male hormones present, but the ratio or balance can shift before, during and after menopause. I am assuming based on what's going on in my body that I have "shifted" a bit to the male side. I have never been a hairy person, fuzzy yes, hairy no. Also, most of the unwanted hair I've ever had has been blonde so it hasn't been that easy to see. This is just nuts. I have dark black hairs growing out of BAD places. If someone had told me I would start turning into my orthodontist around 38 or 39 I may have taken more risks in life.

The wanna be scientist in me tries to figure out what could possibly be the evolutionary reason for any of this. The only thing I can come up with is that it was like a neon sign for potential cavemates that said "don't pick this one, her eggs are drying up by the minute." Not to mention the fact that nothing says do me like a nice patch of nipple hair.

I'm exhausted by all of the searching, tweezing and plucking. I read this horrible book called "The Ruins" where vines ate people. I'm afraid this is what will happen if I relax for even a day.

The upside to the testosterone is that I do have a pretty darn healthy sex drive. And I can bench like 210.