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12.31.2002 -


Dear God,

I know you're not supposed to pick at zits. I know this. I have read it time and time again and I have seen the ugly aftermath on my own face. I know you are especially not supposed to pick a zit on New Year's Eve, when you have this boat cruise thing you are doing with your husband in the evening. I know it's probably especially bad to pick a zit while you are simultaneously battling an evil cold that has left you a wan, blotchy hag, despite stooping so low as to drink chamomile tea, which you hate, and actually give Katherine's suggestion of cayenne pepper/lemon a try, which while you really appreciated the tip, left you clawing feebly at your tongue and making a sound freakishly similar to that Aflac duck.

God, I know a zit right at the top of your upper lip is a very bad place to choose squeezing vs. waiting it out. When your husband gazes at your mouth tonight, angling for his New Year's kiss, will his eye be drawn helplessly to the red and angry spot that cannot, despite your best efforts, be mistaken for a Cindy Crawford mole? Will the entire effect of raw nose, bloodshot eyes, and cold-sore-like zit cause your fellow boat passengers to draw away in fear as you shuffle by?

All I can tell you, God, is that I simply could not help it. I tried to be good, I really did. I diligently applied my Origin brand blemish zapper last night when I felt its tumescent presence birthing from my previously benign skin. I carefully avoided scrubbing too hard when I washed my face this morning. It was only this afternoon, heady with lavender scented bathwater I had hoped would unclog my nose, that I attacked. Viciously, and ruthlessly, until its vile contents had died a thousand deaths in a Kleenex funeral shroud.

I ask you now, God, to shiny pity upon me. Sure, I haven't exactly gone to church lately. And frankly, when it comes to you, I certainly Have My Doubts. But a small favor - just that the concealer holds, or that there is no rampant oozing, God.

Also please help me stay awake until midnight.

Yours truly,

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0 comments so far.

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