Still?!!

I am a grown woman. I have been married a long time. I can drive really well without even thinking. I almost never cut my legs when shaving. I have two daughters who are old enough to pick out their own clothes, shower on their own, and talk smack to me. I know it won't even be too long before I have to deal with periods and teenage hormones. That's gonna suck donkey balls, by the way. My point being these are skills of an adult, not a newbie teenager who is gaga over the Jonas brothers (okay, Joe is my favorite because Kevin wears his jeans way too tight and Nick looks like he's 12..). I went through puberty a long, long ass time ago. So WHY am I still cursed with random acne outbursts? Why, God, WHY?!
I have Neckne (pronounced NECK-nee) right now. That's acne of the neck. I have this gargoyle tumor on the side of my neck near my jawline which makes me look like I could be a God damn stand-in for Young Frankenstein. It is a flaming red bolt. Of course I cannot leave it alone, which is very juvenile of me. I have fashioned a frozen ice pack and a scarf into a makeshift decompression device. It's either that or I wear a Dickie (the neck of a turtleneck minus the shirt. If you don't know what I'm referring to then you are missing out..) with my leotard to teach ballet tonight. It hurts like a bitch.

I have suffered similar maladies in my post-pubescent years. This past fall I had a whopper on the end of my nose, making my schnoz look bulbous and red like an alcoholic hobo panning for coins in a subway station. It's like God is giving me the benefit of the doubt.
"See, Molly, I will give you LESS zits on the surface area of your face but the ones you get well... Good luck with all THAT. You might look like a leper or a circus freak for 7-10 days but then it should clear up with some minor scar tissue."
I had one on my forehead last summer that made me almost audition for the Ringling Brothers' Circus. Can you just see them shit their pants when a real-live unicorn with TITS walks in? We're talking star of the show, baby.

I am a pretty clean person. I bathe daily, wash my face twice daily. What gives? I suppose it could be worse. I could have Backne or Assne. Ass zits are the worst. It's been awhile but it's like having a God damn hemorrhoid on your butt cheek. Those moms who have given birth to large babies from their hoo-ha know what I'm talkin' about. Not pleasant. Like you're sitting on an extra large thumbtack.

My Tumor-liciousness will subside and I will feel like one of those reborn cuties in the "after" profiles on the Pro-Active commercials.
"I had giant boil zits covering 90% of my face. I had no friends. People called me Elephant Girl. I pretended I was Muslim just so I could cover my face all the time. I used Pro-Active and my life changed like magic! I had 3 boyfriends. I wore bikinis to school! I quit marching band and was asked to be head cheerleader. Thanks, Pro-Active!!"
Like these perfect specimens of humanity, I will have little recollection of my previous affliction. Until Christmas strikes early and I am poised and ready for my stand-in role as Rudolph the Red-Nosed reindeer.

For the time being, I will wear tall turtlenecks, wear my hair down to camouflage the hideousness, and pray to the patron saint of acne, St. Boilus Maximus, to spare me of a lengthy healing process. Until then you might not see me much, I will be in hiding not unlike the Hunchback of Notre Dame. But I am the Boil-neck of Bolingbrook. Sexy time..