Under Pressure
I believe that there are two types of people: those who pop their pimples, and those who do not.
Luis falls decidedly in the first category, nabbing those rogue bastards the moment they are visible. Before I met him, I was a non-popper, afraid of scarring and the pain of hunkering down for the big squeeze. Now, I'd say I'm sort of entre les deux... willing to pop when the situation is dire, but otherwise too fearful to "poke a skunk," as my mother would say.
I have had a minor... situation... on my chin for a long time now, and I'm convinced that it would not have evolved into such a predicament had I not popped it several months ago. You see, I think it's angry with me.
In order to truly appreciate this anecdote, you must understand that I'm pretty much categorically insane. I anthropomorphize everything, and pepper my daily activities with a sort of running monologue. My morning routine of feeding the cats consists of me talking half under my breath to the cats, their food bowls, the cabinet door, the cans of fancy cat food, and until recently, the little antibiotic pill that I would put in with Conan's food ("OK little guy, now I'm going to crush you up. There you go, here's some beef broth so you taste good.").
Poor, poor Luis, you are surely thinking. What did he do to deserve this madness? He must be a saint. But I digress.
I have had a running dialogue with my chin for many months now. "Please heal. Please. Oh god. Why are you red? Why why why?" Each morning, my chin responds with a hearty "You know what, lady? FUCK YOU. You went and poked at me in the first place." Then my tube of concealer horns in to the conversation. "Could you two shut up, please? I've got some major work to do here." This is nothing compared to the nighttime routine.
Tube of Neutrogena spot treatment: "Diediediediediedie!"
Chin: "Wooooofah! WTF? I was asleep!"
Zit: "Is that all you got?"
Today I read about the wonderful properties of benzoil peroxide. I think I'll give it a shot in lieu of the salicylic acid spot treatment. I have to say, this is exciting. I never had zits as a teenager, so this is a brave new world for me.
Luis falls decidedly in the first category, nabbing those rogue bastards the moment they are visible. Before I met him, I was a non-popper, afraid of scarring and the pain of hunkering down for the big squeeze. Now, I'd say I'm sort of entre les deux... willing to pop when the situation is dire, but otherwise too fearful to "poke a skunk," as my mother would say.
I have had a minor... situation... on my chin for a long time now, and I'm convinced that it would not have evolved into such a predicament had I not popped it several months ago. You see, I think it's angry with me.
In order to truly appreciate this anecdote, you must understand that I'm pretty much categorically insane. I anthropomorphize everything, and pepper my daily activities with a sort of running monologue. My morning routine of feeding the cats consists of me talking half under my breath to the cats, their food bowls, the cabinet door, the cans of fancy cat food, and until recently, the little antibiotic pill that I would put in with Conan's food ("OK little guy, now I'm going to crush you up. There you go, here's some beef broth so you taste good.").
Poor, poor Luis, you are surely thinking. What did he do to deserve this madness? He must be a saint. But I digress.
I have had a running dialogue with my chin for many months now. "Please heal. Please. Oh god. Why are you red? Why why why?" Each morning, my chin responds with a hearty "You know what, lady? FUCK YOU. You went and poked at me in the first place." Then my tube of concealer horns in to the conversation. "Could you two shut up, please? I've got some major work to do here." This is nothing compared to the nighttime routine.
Tube of Neutrogena spot treatment: "Diediediediediedie!"
Chin: "Wooooofah! WTF? I was asleep!"
Zit: "Is that all you got?"
Today I read about the wonderful properties of benzoil peroxide. I think I'll give it a shot in lieu of the salicylic acid spot treatment. I have to say, this is exciting. I never had zits as a teenager, so this is a brave new world for me.
posted by Liz at 4:20 PM
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