Life gives you lemons, dress like a trannie.

A few days ago I was very dramatically complaining about my life to my sister Kensey.  Her response was, "Well I know what you can do, write a blog about me."  Her wisdom never ceases to amaze me.  

 

My apartment provides me with a constant view of Elliot Bay.  Whenever two ferries cross on my beautiful Bay of perfect happiness,  I make a wish.  This strategically timed wish has become a constant in my life - a ritual that feels natural and old, as if I had been wishing on ferries since I was five years old.  

 

The wishes mirror my internal world.  Sometimes these wishes feel grandiose - a wish for peace in the Middle East or the end of human trafficking.   I've heard rumors that at times my wishes are full of vindictive rage - a wish for strategically timed diarrhea or other more hideous forms of public humiliation on the people who have hurt me.  At other times my wishes stem from love - comfort for a hurting friend or clarity for a confused sibling.  And then sometimes the wishes are entirely gratuitous and strange. "I wish for a new fruit hybrid to make fun of" or "I wish there was a fruit hybrid called "Sex" that would satisfy me if I ate it", or my wish from this morning,  "I want my face back!!!!!"  

With all the suffering in my life - today my acne holds precedence over all else.  If you could have HEARD the internal voice of this wish it would have been choking back the sobs in that particularly pathetic sounding sobby voice.  You totally would have cried.  Seriously.  

 

I have never had acne before now.  Lord Jesus do I have it now.  It bubbles across my face with a determination I have never before seen in a topical skin infection (except for leprosy, but that is for another day).  My acne is like Napoleon.  It responds to nothing and cowers before no one. It is like a defiant puppy, both blind and deaf.  Terrible analogy (should have stuck with Napoleon) because the puppy refuses to be popped, no matter how hard you squeeze or scrub or smother it.  

 

My body has been filled with pregnancy restricting hormones since the time I was eighteen.  That's 9 years, for those of you wondering.  About nine months ago (oh my GOD, do you see the pattern??)  I decided to let these previously mentioned hormones out of my body ("fly away little hormones, be free!" I seemed to say), and instead let a copper crucifix (I know how CREEPY is that??? It's pretty much the #1 thing I would NOT want inserted into my vagina... there is nothing soothing about your doctor holding up a cross and saying "spread your legs") be inserted into my uterus to do the job of guarding against any sweet baby humans crawling out of me. 

 

Slowly but surely, over the past 9 months (OH MY GOD, there it is again!!!!!!!) my face has become more and more, shall we say, lovely?  It is certainly more lovely now than it was a few weeks ago, and on every morning when I awake with a cute little whimper and wipe my eyes like an infant and stretch out my arms like a vixen and then bound, beautiful and naked to the mirror, my face nervous to see itself... and then, relief... I still have the blessing of the acne fairy.  In fact it appeared this morning like she gave up a few of her old clients and is devoting her energy entirely on my face... her portfolio is currently riding pretty heavy on me.  Never you mind the recent bi-polar nature of the stock market - this oil(y) stock continues to surge. (seriously? Enough already.  I could keep this analogy going for about 30 years...) 

 

It is strange how vulnerable I feel in light of my recent facial crop (OOHH it's been a good year... time to harvest, boys).  The strangeness comes from feeling so violently unnerved by something that, compared to the loss and hurt I have felt the past six months, is so insignificant. 

My partner of eight years has an affair: good grief. 

My life is uprooted and changed and the compass I have been using is completely useless: damnation. 

I get acne: I want to die.

See what I mean?  Not exactly logical; don’t blame me (she seemed to say), I was homeschooled.   

 

I keep thinking about the book I used to read when I was younger (I LOVED it – I can visualize the illustrations perfectly in my mind) about a mitten that keeps getting raped by more and more giant animals until it finally bursts when a tiny little mouse crawls into it.  (I know, brilliant right?)  I'm probably butchering the plot, but I think I have the main idea: you wouldn't think that a little mouse crawling into a mitten that is already crammed full of elephant, hippopotamus, tiger, bear, some creepy guy I dreamed I had very horrible sex with last night named Jim, and a raccoon would be affected by it.  You wouldn't think that this mitten would experience its breaking point at the entrance of the MOUSE, right??  The mouse is a tiny little thing - insignificant – you get what I’m saying, of course (sometimes I write as if the people reading my writing are retarded). 

Actually, what the hell was the "moral to the story" of that book? "Kids, you could at any point in your life be the unwitting LAST STRAW - you never know when it might happen, but you could ruin everything, even though you are tiny and seemingly insignificant. NEVER, EVER, be in the wrong place at the wrong time."  I don't know.  I probably need to read it again.  

When I stand in front of a mirror and look at my reflection in the morning, my “look” somewhere between small pox and plague, the red, painful marks on my face truly feel like the last straw.   My acne is the motherfucking mouse crawling into an already full BEYOND capacity mitten.  One of my friends that I can always, always count on for my daily dose of loving cruelty (which actually really is important to me) said “OH wow, is that a hickey on your neck? Oh no, it’s just acne.”  He almost got bitchslapped, even though I was grateful for him mentioning my new facial additions, because he unwittingly reminded me that I am both painfully alone in the arena of hickey-getting, and currently have acne.  Awesome.  Fuck my life. 

 I am so whiny today.  

There are moments when my lurking emotions make themselves known (these are rare moments, since normally I'm super subtle) – moments like trying to sing “Forever” by Ben Harper and singing the whole song with my voice cracking every few seconds.  And then changing the song to “Walk Away” by Ben Harper and wondering why I’m so stupid sometimes.  ... Not stupid for walking away or wanting forever with someone, but because I keep listening to music that makes me cry.  

 

My neighbor makes fun of me for this trait.  He calls my music “crying music” and politely informs me on a regular basis that he can tell when I listen to the same song about a hundred times in a row.  Needless to say this would be incredibly embarrassing, except that I know my neighbor to engage in the same behavior – so in the words of lil’ Wayne, “You ain’t got NOTHING on me.” 

 

So I ordered Proactive.  It should get here in a few days.  And I am now wearing a shitload of makeup, which makes me feel like a queen, which is cool, but not if you are either “plague girl” or “queen” – doesn’t give a girl a lot to go on, especially if most of her clothes are going more for a “mid-century modern feminine” look.  I’ll probably have to start investing in trannie shoes and such to go with my face.  Life gives you lemons, dress like a trannie.  That’s what Mama always said. 

 

Anyways, this all makes me think of Kensey, and how funny and smart and gorgeous she is.  Every time I video chat with her and try to show her my acne she says she can’t see it.  Sisters rule.  Kensey has perfect, exquisitely beautiful skin, and honestly my face is probably a cesspool of puss because I haven’t seen her lately.  Kensey makes everything better like only a sister can.  

I miss you horribly sweet girl.  AND, I am going to need to video chat with you in a few minutes so you can tell me you can't see my acne.  =) 

AND so we can talk about babies.  Just kidding.  

Comments

[Meghan]

"Life gives you lemons, dress like a trannie" - pretty much the most genius sentence I've ever read.

I hope the mouse, I mean mitten doesn't get raped anymore... wait, was that it? I hope the mitten is big and not packed with animals? Damn, I'm slow...

I love your face, and when I see it I never think "acne" "bumps" "trannie" or "ew" ... It pretty much just makes me happy. AND I am not going to say, "you always look gorgeous" as not to sound like someone else in your life... but those little pussy bastards are not what I see.

Loves and loves.
meggy

[Charis]

I just spent about 3 minutes trying to figure out who you were referring to by "pussy bastards" - I was like "DAMN Meghan, that's harsh for whoever you're talking about, and not usually language you would use." And then I realized you were saying "pussy" as in "puss-filled", not the synonym for vagina. =)

When my brother Collin was visiting he said that because I could wear make-up I didn't have ACNE anymore, just "skin bumps." Hahahaha.

[Meghan]

ahhahahahahahhhahaha, it never occurred to me that it has 2 meanings... I told you I'm slow. hahahahhahaha. That's hilarious.

[Kristin Salvia]

Charis, your writings have never ceased to amuse me... i want to give you a big hug and tell you everything is going to be alright after reading this post. As a former best friend of yours, I think you are forever beautiful and wonderful.

Kristin

[Charis]

Dear former best friend,
I am grateful for your virtual big hug and sweet words.
=)
Much love,
Charis

[laura]

amen.

acne kills me.

i love your blogs so much.
i always know where I can get cheered up.
and then i proceed to think about how this blog is about your pain.
and then i cough and move onto my next subject.

i agree.
when life gives you lemons, dress like a trannie. what better thing to do?

well, i hope all goes well.
can't wait to make plans and have our shoot one day.
:)

ohh, guess what? i got featured on a youth arts movement site. have a look:

http://aye.nathanproctor.com/work/photography/laurajimenez.html

-laura

[Charis]

Hahahahahaha - Laura you are fantastic. I always love your comments. From cheered up to guilt to coughing... hahahaha.
=)
CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That is such a cool honor! WOO HOOOOOOO! You have so much talent.
Yes, we should do our shoot SOON. It will be a blast. E-mail me and we'll set it up, yo.

[David McClelland]

Don't blame me... I was homeschooled - haha! That's my all-purpose excuse for everything...

[Mom]

Oh Sweetheart...Meghan must be referring to me because I really, really always think you are gorgeous. You have the kind of face that reveals so much of who you are that I can't imagine anyone noticing skin bumps there. Plus the fact that I recently realized I can't see squat. That probably helps.

[Rachel M.]

Charis,

I have been plagued with a horrible hormone imbalance for 10 years now, and I know how it feels. I have seen dozens of doctors, all of whom diagnose me with something different. When I turned 19 I noticed a blond patch of hair growing out of my chin. It slowly began to spread, until I had no choice but to pluck it out. By the time I was 21 I had over 300 course, black hairs growing out of my chin and neck, and I spent 1 hour per day plucking them out, and watching the acne ensue. I had porcelain skin prior to all of this, and it was a huge blow to my ego. But the worst was yet to come. I began losing control over my weight; no matter how healthy I ate and how much I exercised, I kept gaining weight. Then, by age 23 I realized that, not only had my blond hair all turned brown, but I was going bald. I basically have lost the 'best' years of my life. The whole of my 20's has been spent being ravaged by this hormone problem, and there is no cure, or even the comfort of a diagnosis. I have had to slowly take comfort in the knowledge that I could have something far worse wrong with me, like cancer, and try to believe that people see beyond my image and are still drawn to me for my spirit. But, it truly sucks, and there is almost noone out there who understands what I am going through. I feel your pain.

[Dana]

Hey pretty lady,
None of this popping puppy thing. That just sounds a little scary. However, I wish you luck with all of your acne (and otherwise-related) endeavors. You could always go visit me mom ;). Besides that, I love you lots, and can't wait to see ya

[Jessica]

I love your blog and find myself coming back often to see if you've written anything new. I'm inspired by your honesty. Keep writing! I understand your pain with acne. Proactiv was actually the thing that got rid of mine. I hope it helps! Use that refining mask like it's your job. You are beautiful!

[megan]

Charis - where are you????