No one has told my skin that I’m getting older

So, yes, my hands are looking older and I do have a few little crevices that resemble crows’ feet around the edges of my eyes.

I also have zits. Acne. Pimples. Run-for-cover-up and leave-my-hair-down bad skin.

I’m over 30, goddamnit. Apparently, that doesn’t count for anything. I’d been on the pill (oh, yes, the lovely little pink pill: so many benefits, yet so not conducive to pregnancy) for the previous 12 years and it seems that the extra hormones positively affected my pores. Even more than I appreciated.

My mom’s been blessed with supple skin and I always hoped that I could age as gracefully. Acne, however, was not quite how I imagined maintaining a youthful appearance.

My sister, the aesthetician, and sends me all sorts of stuff – trial packages, mostly, so that I can get hooked and then order the potions from her. Skin care companies actually make things for chronologically challenged people like me. I can (try to) battle wrinkles and bad pores at the same time!!

Or, so they tell me. Half the time, I think it’s all the same stuff in different bottles. I usually think like that during my PMS days – another side effect of not being on the pill.

Or, so my SigOther tells me (in the vein of other blogs, we’ll call him Mr. QuarterRest from now on) . Half the time, I think he may be right.

That still doesn’t clear up my skin.

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