I shouldn't be surprised. Everyone older than me has them. (And unfortunately for you, I am the sort of person who would notice.) Still, it intrigues me that my body is celebrating age thirty-two by sprouting extra bits of tiny round flesh on my eyelids, nose, arms, and... other parts.
Instead of growing taller as a whole, my body will now grow out in just a few places?
Because plucking, picking, painting, shampooing, flossing, brushing, scrubbing, and self-breast-examming isn't enough maintenance -- I should throw in general worry about pimples that won't pop?
Speaking of pimples, what's with those? How come I'm still getting them? Shouldn't one skin issue come to a nice, gratifying stop before the next one begins?
Tonight I discovered the ultimate slap to the face. On my face. A pimple growing BENEATH a skin tag. What the what? Right on the bridge of my nose. I could tell it was a pimple because it hurt like one, but I knew it was a skin tag too because I've been staring that thing down for like four months now.
I let it sit all morning, but after a hot shower it was throbbing and I wanted it GONE. (I know I know. You're "supposed" to leave these things alone. But this is from the same people who tell you to wear sunscreen when you're in the sun. Whatever.) So I tried to pop it. Ow! Bleepity-bleep! I tried a few different angles. Nothing. All I managed to do was irritate my skin and decorate it with little fingernail dents.
It was time to call in the Big Boys: my sewing needle. I first
That feels like success to me.
Courtney - 1. Skintagpimple - 0. Bring it on, aging!