Karma's a Bitch...

First of all, thank you, everyone, who made the comment on my last blog entry that I could be or was most likely pregnant. I can guarantee you that I am not. The cramps that I am currently enduring are only adding to the general nausea from the sickness. But, thanks for your concern. (*jerks*)

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So, Tuesday night, Paula and I were talking about how lucky we were during our adolescent years not to have had bad acne. My sister and brother have both had to take prescription meds to help clear their skin; I would get the occasional red bump that would quickly disappear on its own.

Adolescent acne always seemed to be such a curse to those afflicted by it. I remember this one kid I went to high school with named Brandon who had horrible acne. We're talking stereotypical pepperoni-pizza-faced skin. There was a rumor that went around school that he and his girlfriend (who was called "The Troll" due to her short stature and frizzy, wild hair) were making out she somehow bit his lip or something. There was apparently a mountainous pimple right above his lip and it POPPED... into her mouth!

I don't know if this is true or not, but I always figured that if I heard it in the halls of my high school, it must be true.

So, anyway, Wednesday morning, after Paula and I were gloating about our beautiful, flawless skin, in addition to waking up with a bad case of the swirlies, I looked in the mirror to find probably the biggest, reddest, most swollen and painful pimple I have ever had in my life residing on the right side of my chin.

Like I said... karma's a bitch.*

And that goes for all you bastards who are trying to convince me that my stomach virus is pregnancy. You all better watch out!

*Dave insists that this is not karma so much as just a failure to knock on wood. And as he pointed out, I did not knock on his wood that night.