Lil' Country Girl in a Big 'Ol City

Day 2

Prologue (cuz some 'splainin is needed):

In December, my face broke out something fierce. Yes, at 28 I found myself battling an upward unrelenting battle with acne. Blame it on the stress, environmental factor, or maybe stupid 'ol hormones... either way it was getting harder and harder to cover up. I tried a skin care product recommended by a friend (it worked great for her!) but it aggravated my skin even more. Finally I went to my doctor and said uncle about the whole situation. He stuck a prescription for two creams in my relinquished hands. I was advised that I would experience a little redness and a slight burning sensation immediately following application-- no problem. Oh, and it would dry my skin out and might peel a little-- no problem. NO PROBLEM. But after two days, the peeling was out of control, the redness was accompanied with a little swelling, and the burning! The stinging! OH MY GAWD. Monday night, I applied the night time gel and with a shriek I promptly washed it off. Like acid. My poor face. My poor INSANE face (THANKS, Sarah...!).

On with it...

So this morning, I gingerly washed my burning face and sucked back the tears as I tried to apply makeup to cover up the redness. It felt so good to walk outside in the cold. Oh yes. And it snowed. A lot. And it was still snowing. I didn't have my boots with me so I walked to the bus stop in my little loafers. By the time I boarded GBD's (Grumpy Bus Driver's) bus my hair was soaked and a mess, With a flourish, I showed him my new-found skill of inserting my bus ticket into the reader/stamper thing.

His bus was so hot, I wanted to cry. But no. I decided that I would smile. Did you see that? That was a smile. Did you miss it? Here, let me smile again for you.

GBD was in fine form today. I guess the snow added to his standard grumpiness. At one point, he opened his door to give someone the finger and he colourfully gave the unsuspecting driver feedback on his left-hand turning skills.

On my way to the nearest coffee shop (and I had the pick of three, so I chose the one with the shortest line), I learned the importance of keeping away from the curb (common sense maybe, but sometimes a little reminder of HOW deep those slush puddles get helps). Oh, and on the corner we have our very own fatalistic-sandwich-board-toting-conspiracy-theory-chicken little. He is concerned about the CIA stealing his mind and he is beseeching assistance from the general public of the downtown Vancouver core.

After work (Left to the bus stop), I made it back, popped an antihistamine, took a puff from my inhaler, and curled up on the bed with the cats.