Right so I’ve always had a good skin. I used to get the odd pimple as a teenager but I can’t remember ever stressing over acne or needing Clearasil or Cuticura or needing to Oxy’cute ‘em (remember their horrible advertising?). I didn’t have to cover my face with the wrong shade of my mother’s concealer before going to stalk guys at Youth Group on a Friday night.
Forward 20 some odd years later, and here I sit with my pizza face, pores clogged with what I hope is the right shade of concealer stick. In the beginning of December last year, I noticed a little breakout in the middle of my forehead, I wasn’t worried and assumed they’d disappear. It just got worse and has now spread to my left cheek – almost a month and a half later and no improvement.
I’ve always been one of those overconfident, irritating so-and-sos who go on and on about how you shouldn’t care about what other people think . So what if people laugh at you? Beauty is only skin deep… blah blah blah pizza face. Now that I have a face which has the craterous surface of the moon, I DO CARE about people laughing at me. I mean when your kid comes right up to your face and says “oh sorry mama” and I’m like “for what” and he’s like “sorry about all those sores on your face” you know you got it bad.
I’ve tried a few things that haven’t worked at all, from masks which stink, to scrubs which feel like they’re taking off the first layer of skin (but leaving the pimples behind), to home remedies – nothing. I’ve started drinking more water and last week started on a course of Vichy treatment which will hopefully blast these suckers off my face to outta space. And this BETTER not be hormone related, I do not feel like taking prescription medication OR changing my birth control so that I can loose the Frankenstein’s wife look.
I asked my cyber friends what they thought I could try.. I was both amused and shocked at some of the responses I received!
You guys know that song If You See Me Walking Down the Street.. Dionne Warwick sang it first I think.. well I got a remix..
“If you see me walking down the street and I start to cry each time we meet.. walk on by (because I saw how you looked at my pimple-y face and you really made a grown woman cry by the look of disgust you couldn’t hide)”