Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Popping The Pimple.

When I was a tad bit younger, probably still going through puberty, I seriously had no idea when people told me to apply egg white on my face, hoping that it'd be able to help with my facial condition, they meant to apply the egg white WITH facial cotton! Who would've known! No wonder all my feeble attempts to apply solely the egg white all over my face and later waiting patiently for it to dry, hoping that it'd be able to tear off like a piece of mask of some sort, failed! I only knew that the tearing-it-out-like-a-piece-of-mask effect only happened when you apply the egg white onto the facial cotton (the ones that comes in square shapes) and stick it onto your face before waiting for it to dry up and harden, when I had one of my distant cousins came up to me and suggested the same treatment for my face after being, practically, horrified by the condition of my face, when we met during a relative's wedding!

I guess I kind of got bored with all that failed attempts of egg white treatment that I was skeptical when she told me her procedures for home facial treatment that might help with my ailing face. Wasn't even convinced until she mentioned the cottons that got me wide-eyed. Well, for starters, I had to separate the egg white from the egg itself, which I happen to be not so good at. The whole process, which consists of a facial mask and later followed by moisturising with cut up pieces of cucumber and a thorough wash, probably takes up about an hour! And she added with a persuasive tone that it had to be done everyday! Now who would find an extra free hour a day - excluding the preparation time with the eggs and the cucumber - just to apply some unproven facial recipe? Not that I didn't try it though!

Seriously, it never occurred to that the condition of my face was getting worse by the year. I mean, it all started from blackhead to pimples and the next thing I know, I've got a scarred face like the surface of a moon - with all the holes, yes. Mind you, it has gotten so serious that it could even be a topic of discussion in family gatherings where I'd be the center of attention and multiple questions and blatant advices will be shot at me, which I always fail to adhere to. "Aiyah, don't always touch your face with your fingers lah," I'll usually hear one of my aunts cry in disdain over the table. I guess I couldn't complain much cause I pretty much brought this on to myself. All the years of pinching and pressing those stubborn pimples and blackheads is certainly catching up with me now. Still, no regrets or remorse or whatsoever as I do get the kick out of seeing those "poisonous" sebums being forced out from my skin (and sometimes splattering all over the mirror!)!

As it happens, my acne problem doesn't stop at the face. I have it all around my upper back and upper front body, right to my upper arms. Protruding fresh red dots and tiny blackheads have always been there since puberty. No matter how much (and different) zit cream or traditional herbs I apply on my acnes, they never seem to go away. All the creams I've ever used before either doesn't work or requires a lifetime subscription to it. To make things worse, I've always been obligated to either scratch or press them out. And sometimes, I don't even know if its safe to call them zits or acnes, when they get huge, looks almost swollen and emits a disgusting smell and grows at odd places like my eyebrows or my upper bum. Elbows too, at times. It's scary to see these things manifest in me that I'm always keen to extract them from my body, leaving scars of pleasures satisfaction. I really can't help it, you know. I guess I fit the bill, fat and pimply. Mom says it's an inherited thing and her theory is that we have toxic in our blood.

Apparently, dad suffers the same problem. Only that he's old and he has passed his time of popping the pimple. You know, there's an old Chinese saying that leaving plates unclean (especially when it comes to rice) could determine that one will get a husband/wife with a scarred-from-pimple-marks face. Of course, the saying was used to make children clean up their plates and has nothing to do with your husband/wife in the future (at least, I don't believe). Well, dad is the exact kind of person those old wives tales were referring too. In Hokkien dialect it's called "moh peng". I never understood why dad had such a rough face which was constantly secreting oil and I never saw it as weird also. I supposed I never compared him to the dads over the picket fence with a million dollar smile, waving goodbye to their children in the magazines. If it's anything worth, I love dad for the way he is and I couldn't possibly expect anything more from him. Ok... maybe a little bit extra allowance?

Dad also has weird growths all over his face, especially the back of his neck, earlobes and back of his ears. Like mine, it secretes a horrible and nauseating stench. I really don't know what it's called (after I gave up labeling them acne, zits and pimples for the look nothing alike) but they look just like little bumps forming at the surface of the skin, which could be pretty disgusting. I think dad couldn't stand the ones that has been with him for quite some time that he decided to go under the knife a week ago. That, was his appointment and he just got them cut off yesterday and currently has four small bandages at different parts of his face after spending one night at the hospital after the surgery. Obviously not a life-threatening surgery to get everyone worked up. After all, dad did went under the knife for the same reason, about 7 years back, on his chest (really odd places this thing grows!).

Well, inherited or not, I know I've got them and it's just a matter of time before mine becomes like dad's. But frankly, I've never been afraid that it'll turn out like dad's seeing that these days, pills and creams aren't that hard to get, compared to the 60's when there's no Amway or the likes, shoving pamphlets and brochures into your mailboxes or hanging banners all over the street! But that is if I had the cash to spend it on my face, which I don't. Can't even afford a facial treatment, damn it! I mean, mom strongly disagrees with artificial treatment and has so far been refusing my every request for a trip to the dermatologist or for purchasing any creams and pills, and only believes that if I stopped my habit of popping my pimples, things would get better. Oh well, that's mom. As far as I'm concerned, I don't think I'll ever stop the poppin' it!

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