Seriously--
Whiskey.
Tango.
Foxtrot.
My head is on fire at the moment. Apparently, for my thirtieth birthday the universe has decided to give me an overactive immune system-- I'm now allergic to every shampoo you can think of and almost as many make-up products.
I've spent the last three weeks trying to recover from various stages of lizard-face from trying new skincare regimens in order not to have every pore on my face (I mean this literally, unfortunately) erupt in the most painful breakouts I've ever experienced.
Lizard-face is not, by the way, a joke. If you felt an iguana's back and then felt my face right now, they would in fact feel remarkably similar. Or rather, I should say, identical to the skin of an orange. That is so incredibly disgusting.
And now my head has decided to get in on the act-- my entire scalp is broken out in tiny little super-painful zits. For fuck's sake, I only used my husband's generic organic grapefruit scented shampoo once.
Sexy. Very sexy. I am so not getting laid anytime soon.
