Monday, February 26, 2007

Mount Bluenana


K2, Mount Rushmore, and Mount Everest ain't got nothin' on Mount Bluenana...the fond name I've given my ginormous pimple.

Thanks to my mom's genes, I've been blessed with fairly clear skin. Once in a while I'll get a teeny tiny pimple, but it always disappears after I take a shower. This time around, the shower didn't make it go away. I ran my face under scalding water and that did nothing either. (Yes, I've been told that this won't help at all.) For days it felt like it's been growing little roots under the skin of my cheek and unfortunately I am 100% clueless about what to do with it.

Nikki was my big sister today while I woefully scanned the aisle at CVS looking for keywords like mask and clean & clear. I am a preteen.

If this thing doesn't go away soon, Jon Krakauer can write his next New York Times bestseller about my face.

3 comments:

hugguhbear said...

My poor blue. What's it been like never having blemish of mastadonic proportions? I can remember one time when, in my adolescence, you know when most everyone gets pimples I had what seemed like Orion's Belt on my forehead. Luckily I wasn't taking astronomy or else I would have been used as friggen model.

Just wait a second...we were covering the destruction of Pompeii by Mt. Vesuvius in Ancient History that year and my teacher kept looking a me whenever she spoke about the volcano....

That bitch.

anyway, I'm sure you'll get through it.

Love,
me

moonrat said...

Ugh. Honey, my skin is nowhere near as nice as yours and I am TOTALLY on the same page. I mean, I know lots of joking "heehee....soap?" conversations could come out of this post, but let it stand for the record that when I was about 21 years old I was having a similar problem and crying about it on the phone to my friend Susanne and Susanne was like, what toner are you using? And I was like, toner? I don't go to the gym. I gould *hear* the sound of her palm hitting her forehead and she got on a train from Princeton, NJ, to help me find "product" to get me through.

But then again, what's my excuse? I guess I've kind of run out of them.

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