I feel like I should cover my face in pimples for a Halloween costume. OH WAIT, did that.

Then I image searched to see if a pimple halloween costume exists and nearly gagged when I saw this. I'm not joking, so don't click that link if you know what's good for you.

About two months ago, I wrote a draft post and all it said was "write about communication". Then I got distracted by life and Olympus (who, by the way, has spawned yet another peak which is ugly and painful and HATE...but sorry, digress) and never wrote it.

I'll start by saying: I suck at communicating when it comes to emotions. Anyone who knows me well can back me up here - when it comes to pretty much anything internal/feelings, I tend to keep quiet. I'm just not the best sharer. And so, in that area of communication I'm still learning. I don't know if it's unusual, but writing seems to be my outlet. When I am processing something or unhappy about something, I burst at the seams until an email or blog post is born (and in the past, crazy journal entry). I need to figure out if I can transition that from a need to write it all out to a need to speak it aloud. If only love letters were still an art form...

In the rest of the areas? I think you could say that loml and I are champion communicators. I just wrote three sentences of example and figured you all didn't want to read it. But I suggest you do sometime look up bowel movement in the free online thesaurus.

Final Olympus update (for now anyway): the pimple I got enraged at/popped looks like an open wound/scab. The other zit, original Olympus, just looks like a bump now. It's not so much a pimple at the moment....it's more like a lurker. A lurker that is going to be a pimple again at some point in the probably distant future. And now no more talk about pores and puss.

***

I read today that threats against the president have gone up 400% from when GW was prez. Yes, I know, I read it on a Comedy Central blog, but still relevant information. And UGH. I think that it is telling that he's more threatened for two reasons:

1. Those of us that didn't like GW still understood that killing him is not an option. And those that oppose Obama? Could I say less moral? I wonder what the religious connotations are here - those that want BO dead = more religious than those of us who hated Bush but didn't wish him dead?
2. We are a racist country. Still. And it would be a lie to say otherwise.

I wish I could say today is a new day in Olympus land...but it is not...Olympus has become a chain of mountains. Only I got so PISSED that I had another, distinct pimple that in a fit of rage I popped it this morning. And man, it is sore. Because it probably wasn't ready to be popped.

Not only do I look like a pimply teenager, but now I'm acting like one too. REGRESSION.

Here's hoping that tomorrow IS a new day, that my face has calmed down a bit and that I'm, once again, a twenty-something IT "professional". I use that term loosely.

Olympus update: last night, during my twice daily hot compress application, Olympus popped itself. And then I helped it along.

This morning though? It still looks terrible. It's a bit less raised off of my face, but it's still huge, angry and red. I have definitely entertained the idea that I will end up having to pop it again. Or live with it for a long, long time. At least half of it is gone now...

I would like to introduce you all to Mount Olympus. This is where I would post a picture if I didn't get chills about it living on forever. And being used against me. Shudder. Mount Olympus is how I am referring to the largest pimple to have ever existed.

loml hypothesized last night that all the badness in my entire body has concentrated itself in this one spot on my chin.

Here's how i would describe olympus:

• red and painful
• the actual size of it, is about the size of the tip of my pinkie. Granted, I have small fingers. But that's still far too large for a pimple.
• it is so angry and inflamed that when you touch it, it basically feels like there is half a pea under my skin. Yes, it is that raised off of my face

This is the worst pimple I have ever had. I canceled on loml (stood him up is how he termed it on the phone earlier) tonight because I don't want to be in public. There is no coverup in the world that can hide this thing. And it's been this way since last Sunday.

I can't even pop it because it's hardly got a head. For the size of half a pea, it's got a tiny pin head of a head.

I know, this is too much information. But this zit is draining my will to live.

This whole post has to do with being a lady so reader beware.

• I had my yearly checkup last week. I've been seeing my gynecologist for five years now. When she heard that I was sexually active, she literally cheered. "Yay, Katie! You're sexually active again!" It was...kind of mortifying. And also, totally awesome.
  
• Yesterday, I had the displeasure of trying on multiple items of lingerie. I believe I came out of the dressing room and said "well that was disheartening". Because my body is a freak, I cannot purchase lingerie. I couldn't even fit my bosoms into a large. And the rest of my body is not an L. It kind of made me hate these things. And, then I came home and searched for corsets again on etsy. Custom made, $250 lingerie? Will i ever be able to pull that trigger?
  
• I was at Walgreen's today. My purchases included advil, vitamins and three packages of tampons/pads. As I was checking out, an old lady in a fur coat got in line behind me. She looked at my items and said "I remember those days. (silence on my end and hers for a good minute) Or maybe i don't (laugh from her)". It was a creepy share.
  

The line, the line!

I've had some amazing conversations about the line:

1. There is no line! I want to know!
2. I don't know where the line is, but I really hope you cross it. (giggle)
3. Where is loml's line? That's your line.
4. Eh, I'm not sure if you saying too much will bother me.
5. DON'T SAY ANYTHING INAPPROPRIATE EVER.

It's also especially hilarious to me because two of those conversations (numbers 1 and 5) were either preceded or closely followed by my being chastised for writing too cryptically. That no one is ever sure what I'm actually saying. Which, is totally hilarious, at least in five's case - because if you want me to be less cryptic, then I might have to be inappropriate.

My conversation with loml went something like this:

loml: what was so funny last night?
me: i pinched a nerve and didn't say anything so that we could finish.
l: you still can't feel two of your fingers??
m: i can, i woke up and the feeling was back. but, i lost it for hours.
l: HA. I personally thought the abortion role-playing was hilarious.
m: I liked menstrual heaven.

Yes, yes we did abortion role play in bed. And menstrual heaven is heaven where all of the eggs from all of your periods are there to greet you when you die.

LINE CROSSED!

I really, really want to write about inappropriate topics at the moment. I'm flailing about internally trying to figure out where the line is on this blog. Basically at this point, anyone who reads this knows me. And, in a lot of cases, knows loml. That makes talking about sex difficult. Tricky.

But damn! Hilarious stuff happens in bed. And, I've mentioned before, my favorite new addition to loml and I is the time we spend in bed laughing uproariously.

So where is the line readers? Is there a line?

That journal, the unfair portrayal, has been retired. Put to pasture. I know I spoke of it before as a good read..I acknowledged that it was unfairly dire but also a real way to look back and learn from where I was. That is true. And then I had the opposite experience with it - I went back and read it and was that girl again.

I don't know how to explain it other than - I was in an unsettled place at the time and it seeps out of the writing. And the last time I went back and read it all, it stuck to me. The doubt and uncertainty were truly poisonous.

So I've stopped reading and writing. I never wanted to write when I was super happy and the other writing fed off of itself. So there is no balance to it: crazy feeding crazy. And I think writing here will fix that imbalance.

I have a post in mind here, but I'm suddenly sneezy, kind of sore and a bit tired. But I'm going to try for it anyway. Be charitable.

I don't know if it's naive of me, but lately I've been a bit surprised by people's actions. And in some cases, people's reactions. And these are people I would say I know well. I find this surprise, the actions, the whole situation fascinating. And in some ways, a bit disappointing.

I often find myself wanting to be inside someone's head when they make a decision. Throwing a fit for no reason I can understand? Maybe there is something I'm missing. Keeping something secret that doesn't seem secret? Maybe I don't understand you.

A lot has been going on at work lately...and I heard a rumor that someone implied that I don't have all the information to...well...do my job. After laughing a lot about that and deciding this is true of everyone, I moved on. But now, I can't help but think that's why I enjoy people so much. Because of course I don't have all the information. And of course we're going to see things and respond to things and emote differently.

And I love it.

And I hate it.

Today I wonder where empathy went. Did you lose yours?