Welcome to that time of the month when I throw a few random things into one blog post and call it day. Sometimes it's just really hard for my brain to isolate one thing at a time and focus in on that thing long enough to make an entire post about it. That's when days like this happen. Because numbered bullet points are your friend. Or at least my friend. Plus I've heard they make it a little easier on all of your brains when trying to read the nonsense I write here. So yay for me and you today!
So, I had a minor meltdown this week. Remember how on Monday I said I looked like I had Chicken Pox because my skin was breaking out so bad? Yeah… things took a slight turn down a road I never want to visit ever again because as soon as I typed that sentence out, my face turned into a full blown circus. Complete with lions jumping through flaming hoops and clowns riding tricycles. I immediately started doing everything you're not supposed to do when you break out. Poking, popping, squeezing, squishing. Putting on acne spot treatment meds, putting on hydrocortisone cream, putting on tea tree oil (what?). Sticking my face over a steaming pot of water. Using ice packs. Seriously everything short of hiring Miley to take a sledgehammer to my face.
So then I started panicking, you know because I'm vain and don't find it remotely possible to leave the seclusion of my living room if I have one single decent sized blemish sitting
pretty on my face, let alone SIX OF THEM. Acne just isn't something I really deal with often. Sure I get the occasional asshole that decides to set up shop for a day or two but my face has never done what it did this week.
Plus I'm heading to Charlotte tomorrow (so freaking excited, P.S.) and I absolutely cannot have that monstrosity of a nightmare occurring front in center for the world to see. It's just not acceptable. So I searched for dermatologists in my Google Maps (seriously that app is how I get through life) and landed on a place on the UES that took my insurance. I called them up and bam they had a cancellation and could see me within the hour. I never booked it to a doctor's office so fast, guys.
After camping out for about an hour with ten other New Yorkers in a waiting room filled with pamphlets telling me I needed Botox, the derm finally sits me down in her office. She then stares at my face with her completely perfect complexion for all of six seconds before she tells me that I'm not breaking out.
"Umm, girl. Are you looking at the same face I've been looking at for the past two days? Because I'm pretty sure it looks like a bug traveled up my the side of my cheek, clamped its jaw down every inch and a half and had himself a little feast."
"Well that's exactly what happened Ms. Gray. You're having an allergic reaction to some type of bug bite."
"Shut the front door, lock it, AND put a dead bolt on it." "Are you kidding me?!"
She then proceeds to whip out a syringe filled with steroids and injects my bumps with cortisone. I didn't even panic about the needle because I was just so ready to get my gosh darn clear complexion back. It stung a bit and bled for about fifteen seconds but other than that it was a quick and painless, in and out procedure. Two days and an entire drug store of concealer/cover up later and I'm slowly starting to get better. Slowly being the key word. It's still pretty iffy if I'm bare boning it (that's what she said) without any makeup, but if I take my time applying my "cake face" you can barely tell I have enough hell going on underneath to make me cry. And yes, I did tear up over the frustration and horridness of it all. Just take a look for yourself and tell me you wouldn't do the same.
Holy shit, I can't believe I just posted that for the world to see. But it was necessary because I wanted to show the before and after in order to prove to
myself you that you don't have to hibernate inside all day like I do if you get really bad blemishes. Just go get some makeup (80% of mine was from the drugstore) and cover that shit up like a pro. I honestly didn't know it was even possible to cover something as atrocious as that up so well. I'm like a pro camouflager over here. What up Peeta.
I got my hair cut yesterday evening. And no I do not have a picture of the new look. A) Because of all that nonsense in the previous point that doesn't need to be seen yet again B) Because my hair honestly doesn't look much different than it did before I sat down in the salon chair and C) Because, well, I'm really just too lazy to take yet another selfie right now. Who thought we'd ever see the day right? But that's not really the point of why I made this a number on this list. The thing is, I think I only ever make hair appointments so that I can get my hair washed.
No joke, if I had to bottle up heaven and put a label on it, I'd use the P-Touch to type out "the feeling of getting your hair washed at a salon" and slap it on there. It's just the most amazing thing ever.
That blissfuly euphoric feeling subsides rather quickly, though, because as soon as you're shoved out of the seat with a towel wrapped your head and excess water streaking down your face, you immediately feel like you've never looked any uglier. I'm not sure if it's the mirrors or the lighting or the fact that you really do look like a rat attempting to escape Niagra Falls, but good lord, way to make a girl feel like a pile of flaming shit. Just stick me on a doorstep and have Billy Madison laugh at me already.
Have you seen the story about the seeing eye dog that saved the blind man who fell in the subway tracks here in the city? The 61 year old man fainted and fell into the tracks, his dog tried to pull him to safety but ended up falling in the tracks with him, the dog hovered next to him to protect him while a subway train was on its way into the station, two of the subway cars drove over both the man and the dog, BUT both are alive and okay with only a few scratches. Amazing!
The man was going to have to give up the dog, who's name is Orlando, because he couldn't afford to keep Orlando as a pet after he retired from seeing eye dog service. But the story went viral and a bunch of people ended up donating money so that the two could have a happy ending together.
And then I got all weepy because dogs truly are man's best friend. This is the reason my heart beats three sizes too big for those four-legged animals. Just look at that face. Oh I die every time.
Today I have a lady visiting who loves the furpups just as much as I do. Her name is Kym and she blogs over at Travel Babbles. If you haven't stumbled upon her blog then you're a little late to the party. She seriously is one of my favorite reads. Especially when she decides to get all real on us and post 18 things she's been too afraid to share. Seriously one of my all time favorite posts this month. Go read it. And then check out her life in three pictures below.
As you can tell from my photos, right now my life basically revolves around hockey. When I'm not scheduling every minute around a cross country or international move, or my husband TJ's practices or games, you can find me blogging and sharing too many photos of my dog Brutus on Instagram. One day I'll be a grown up, I promise. -Kym