There are no nice acne pictures to go with this blog posting. Sawry. Just imagine your last outbreak and I'll go from there.
What I'm Listening To: Ready? OK. by Matt and Kim
First off, I'd like to say thanks for sticking by me while things got nutsy over here. I'm going to try to get this blog back on track again on at least a bi-weekly basis, even though I'm kinda disappointed that my blogging hasn't reached the ears of Tina Fey, and inspired her to make my postings into a mini-series about clubbing in Milwaukee, with Megan Fox as me. Ha. Not that continuing my nobody status in the world of fabulousity would deter me from creating this awesome piece of literature for you, my adoring fans!!
As you may have figured out by now, I am no longer a teenager. However, much to my dismay, my skin has not realized that time has continued on. So every month, like clockwork, my face decides to reward my stressed-out lifestyle by placing a little gift...or two..or three...on the most visible parts of my face. And sometimes the gifts aren't so little. Yes, folks, you guessed it, it's the gift of acne.
The gifts come in many shapes and sizes and they are definitely made especially for me. Thanks Face! You are so thoughtful!! I could totally use another oil gusher on my super dry skin. Yay! The gifts range from those sneaky blackheads, or the little red bump, or those splotchy pink thingies, all the way up to the biggest and best gift of all, my favorite, cystic acne, or Mt Vesuvius. You know the ones -- big nasty welts in the most prominent place, like between your eyebrows so you look like you're sporting a third eye. And they hurt like a bitch, and they take weeks to go away. Yes, I'm talking about those ones. Arrggghh, I hate them.
And I've tried every cream, lotion, face soap, acne medication, and masque in the book. So do not go there with another recommendation as to what I should be using. Hell, I'm at the point now where I'd probably rub roadkill on my face if someone told me it was going to make my zits disappear.
And I'll tell you one thing that isn't two things. I swear to god do not tell me to LEAVE IT ALONE! How many times have I read in every stupid ladies magazine "Don't pinch your zits! They'll get worse and just scar and so just leave them alone!!" That advice is birdseed and you know it. There is not ONE PERSON in this entire universe who can see a zit on their face in the mirror, smile serenely and say, "oh, I'm just gonna watch that beautiful zit grow big and strong! Maybe it'll get on the debate team! Maybe it will be valedictorian! I'm never ever ever gonna touch it!" And if you find that person, please slap them for me. If you can watch your zit and never touch it, I'm proud of you. And you probably think the Jonas Brothers are the shit, too, right? Sheesh, please go sit down and let me rant.
Because, hell, I'm gonna say it: There is no greater pleasure that popping your zits. I'm sorry, I am just coming out with it. Come on, it's like picking your nose. We all do it, but no one wants to admit it.
So now that we're in the thick of it, let's talk turkey. Yes, I know pinching is a bad thing. But let's get past that to the good stuff and discuss the various categories of pinching.
...long pause here...
Okay, I guess I am gonna curtail this right now, because seriously I started typing out all the stuff that happens when you pick your face, and I'm kinda getting ill just thinking about it. Maybe it's too early to discuss all the excitement of what your body can excrete out of the pores in your lovely epidermis, so I guess you'll have to catch me to discuss this topic when I'm in a zitty mood. Ha!
But hey, I'm 'fessing up now about my habit in the first place, so I guess that's a step in the sharing direction. Sorry if you think it's gross, or wrong, or whatever. But to me, it's so hard to just "leave it alone", so I might as well come out and tell you all about my dirty little secret. I would love to find others just like me, though. Wouldn't it be great if there was like a Zit Poppers Anonymous for this addiction? I would join in a heartbeat. We could sit around and swap stories about our zit triumphs and tragedies, and seriously, I have a lot more tragedies than triumphs when it comes to the craters in my face.
If only I had listened when my mom told me that picking = scarring. SIGH. Whatever. Bottom line, I'm looking for suggestions on "face lighteners", whatever that means! And hey, get your hands away from your face, you sicko!
