Younger skin please, hold the acne.

So have I mentioned that in a little over 30 days a crazy cracker like me turns 30? Ok, so it is me.

Meh.

I'm bittersweet about it. Depends on the day.

Since I l-o-v-e to make lists, I've started the 10 things I want to accomplish in my 30's list, the 30 days before 30 list, and the Things I want to do at 30 list.

I'm going to be THIRTY YEARS OLD. (sigh) I think it's the official end of my youth, but the beginning of truly meaningful years. The best years of my life will probably be during my thirties.

Thinking back, my first 10 years were a blur. My first memory is being potty trained. Weird eh? Then there was the rush of school, siblings added to the fam, etc. The years between 10 and 20 weren't so great. Puberty blows. Now 20 to 30 . . . those years have been freaking awesome!

There IS something I haven't been able to shake over the course of the last 15 years. Acne. Blamed it on puberty at first, then wearing make-up, then my diet, then pregnancy, then stress, etc. Getting pimples at 29+ is totally ridiculous people. My face is starting to have dippy imprints; like little zit fossils on my cheeks. Blackheads NEVER go away. I'm greeted with a new visitor almost every morning.

I wash my face every morning and every evening. I've tried a series of treatment kits from Avon, Clinique, Neutrogena, Mary Kay, and Proactive. Proactive worked ok, but made my face peely. I've found that St. Ives' face scrub works pretty good, but I want this shit GONE. I'm so done with masky foundations and concealers. A visit to the tanning bed used to clear it up pretty good, but since I'm hellbound on taking better care of my skin, it isn't a good idea.

Yesterday, I treated myself to a call to a Dermatologist. FINALLY!

Here's the bad news: There is only ONE damn Dermatologist surrounding Wayne, Holmes, and Ashland counties. I'm guessing that this guy has a garbage bag full of cash that he dumps onto his lawn in the evening. Every night he dresses in his pajamas made of baby hair and kitten fur then he runs into his money like a leaf pile. He rolls around in it doing his best bwah ha ha laugh, then gets up, points to his neighbors, and does a "suck it" thrust. (you know. when you cross your arms over your crotch and throw your hips into them) Bastard.

The good news: Originally he was booked until November. I was still willing to schedule, but wait! Someone had cancelled in August. Flippin' sweet, lady! Sign me up!

So there is hope. Maybe a new, more youthful skin is on the horizon for this gal. I'll keep you updated.