I have a bindi zit. Right there, right between the eyes, an angry (angry, angry) red blotch telling the whole world I'm married and so rockin' the bad skin. Yessireebobo, I don't know what I did last week to piss off the gods, why I'm dealing with this case of strang und derm as it were, but boy howdy, would you pass the Stridex?
As a teenager, I was blessed with clear skin. I had no idea what I had then. I was thin (for me), I had an unlined face, I had clear skin and my hair was permanently set to "shiny." Seriously, my best years? My youth? Totally wasted.
And then my skin has spent the whole of my twenties making up for lost time. Zits constantly! Though, since April I've only had maybe six really painful blemishes, and this is during the peak sunscreen season.
This does not change the bindi zit, or the suborbitals on the forehead and the region of Kuiper belt zits behind my ear (don't ask). It's an epidemic of bad skin. Help, help, help.
Gun to my head, I'd have to say I'm having a reaction either to my moisturizer or chlorine. I've been using Aveeno's Positively Radiant moisturizer with the SPF 30 for six months without any complains, which makes me want to rule this out.
Of course, admitting product means that other women (probably better women, I sometimes think) will fall over themselves to tell me to skip the Aveeno and try a department store's worth of products, and really, thank you. E-mail's at the bottom. Send me your recs!
But really, if it was the moisturizer, I should have three or seven big zits (with root structures) on my throat, because I am a firm believer in protecting the neck.
Which leads me to believe it's the chlorine. I started swimming again last week and I think my skin's staging a full-on rebellion.
Help me, help me, help me.
The swimming's a new/old addition to my continual quest to be healthy, which is always sidelined by my overwhelming nature to say "fuck it," and watch a Mythbusters marathon on Discovery. I don't know about you, but I'm constantly torn between the need to be aesthetically pleasing by current western standards and the need to be okay with myself as I am, and this week the self-loathing, aesthetically seeking side is winning. It's usually winning. Hell, it's always winning.
And now I've got a bindi zit for my troubles.
Woo!
(And just to really add flavor to typing this image-driven, middle-of-the-night posting, I can report that I'm sitting on the couch, surrounded by dark, and I'm so cliched, the cat is snoring. Thank you, thank you. This is one of my finest hours.)
As a teenager, I was blessed with clear skin. I had no idea what I had then. I was thin (for me), I had an unlined face, I had clear skin and my hair was permanently set to "shiny." Seriously, my best years? My youth? Totally wasted.
And then my skin has spent the whole of my twenties making up for lost time. Zits constantly! Though, since April I've only had maybe six really painful blemishes, and this is during the peak sunscreen season.
This does not change the bindi zit, or the suborbitals on the forehead and the region of Kuiper belt zits behind my ear (don't ask). It's an epidemic of bad skin. Help, help, help.
Gun to my head, I'd have to say I'm having a reaction either to my moisturizer or chlorine. I've been using Aveeno's Positively Radiant moisturizer with the SPF 30 for six months without any complains, which makes me want to rule this out.
Of course, admitting product means that other women (probably better women, I sometimes think) will fall over themselves to tell me to skip the Aveeno and try a department store's worth of products, and really, thank you. E-mail's at the bottom. Send me your recs!
But really, if it was the moisturizer, I should have three or seven big zits (with root structures) on my throat, because I am a firm believer in protecting the neck.
Which leads me to believe it's the chlorine. I started swimming again last week and I think my skin's staging a full-on rebellion.
Help me, help me, help me.
The swimming's a new/old addition to my continual quest to be healthy, which is always sidelined by my overwhelming nature to say "fuck it," and watch a Mythbusters marathon on Discovery. I don't know about you, but I'm constantly torn between the need to be aesthetically pleasing by current western standards and the need to be okay with myself as I am, and this week the self-loathing, aesthetically seeking side is winning. It's usually winning. Hell, it's always winning.
And now I've got a bindi zit for my troubles.
Woo!
(And just to really add flavor to typing this image-driven, middle-of-the-night posting, I can report that I'm sitting on the couch, surrounded by dark, and I'm so cliched, the cat is snoring. Thank you, thank you. This is one of my finest hours.)
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