I'm not dead. I wasn't blogging because Sam was out of town, and I was afraid that a) I would run on and on about how weird it was or how lonely I was (which I actually wasn't incredibly lonely; not to say I didn't miss him, because I did, dreadfully) or b) I'd be broadcasting my aloneness, those opening up an opportunity for the rapist to come get me. (Yes, THE rapist.) So I abstained. I haven't forgotten about the Monday cross stitch updates, but I hadn't been sewing much, so I just wasn't posting. I will probably post an update tomorrow, as I did end up sewing a ton while Sam was gone, and the progress is crazy and scary all at the same time.
Also, I did have other things I could post about, such as the harm a wax did to my face. It's really quite awful. I went to a new waxer (my sister's), which was exciting because it's more convenient (being in the city and all). Unfortunately, this person, while nice, seemed to have no clue how to handle skin with a condition such as mine, and so I ended up with a really, really nasty looking few areas of skin. It's bumpy, and it was red for two days. I must add that the bumps are very different from the bumps I was getting from the waxing before. They're more tenacious, they're not soft, and they just look....bad. So after this miserable experience (and let me say, if you saw me walking down Lincoln on Friday evening and were scared, I'm very, very sorry. I scared myself when I got home.) I've sort of decided that if I can't be waxed anymore. I'm going to talk to my original waxer, the person who's been doing my face for probably....six years. At least. And I'm going to see if we can't work something out for my upper lip (tining it nonexistent, hopefully), and if she might agree to periodically pluck my brows. I know that sounds silly, because I can of course pluck my own brows (and do, periodically), but the thing I can't seem to do is keep them shaped correctly if I'm just plucking on my own. So I think if she plucked them every 8 weeks, I could keep them neat in between pluckings. So I'm going to see what the deal is.
Frankly, if you're wondering just how bad my face could be, let me tell you that I wore make-up to work yesterday. Uh, yeah. I haven't worn make-up to work once in the two and a half years I've been here, and my face was so yucky yesterday that I had to. I'm not today, but it's merely a time thing, and not a lack of necessity on the part of my face. The area underneath my left nostril is still disgusting. (It sort of looks like I've got toxic snot running down my face and hurting my skin. It's awful.)
Lots of other stuff happened while Sam was gone, but it's not necessarily stuff I want to talk about in any great depth. (No, that's just my face.) And now Sam is home, and things are back to a delightful state of equilibrium.
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