Feline that I am... maybe

I’m half coming out of the Ploset (no, no typo, wish it were, read on). If I dare that is, I may yet change my mind, fuck but my hands are shaking.

Remember my mad outburst yesterday? Much better today, why thank you, because:

a) Yesterday is frigging OVER innit.

b) Repeat after me: aspirin is your friend! Yes it is! Hoos yaw fwend, hoos yaw fwend? Aspeeween, oh yessitis, yessitis! Who cares if I exsanguinate as long as I do it painlessly. YEY!

c) When a day goes that wrong anyway, you have to laugh because seriously, it’s just ridiculous.

Uhmm… I’m still not sure I should be doing this but here goes, THE SIGNS ARE HERE, Fate has seen fit to give me a little shove and I might just not end up flat on my face. If this goes wrong I’ll blame The PaulMonster bcs that’s where I found the quiz.

Remember how I said I wasn’t going to talk abt my skin yet bcs I was too raw [let me just interrupt to say I’m in love with my animals: tripod cat is curled up in a perfect ball next to me, too cute for words, I might have to eat her; full-legged cat is on the armchair facing the back, with face shoved deep into the cushions, who knows how she can breathe, I might have to eat her; dog is curled up against her, head lying on cat’s flank, I might have to eat her. Whaaat? I’m procrastinating? SHUT UP! You have no idea how hard this is for me!]

So - my skin. Too raw [no pun intended but, bloody hell, if you only knew how you funny it is!], blablabla. Anyway, I concluded by saying I was tired of the Return of The Pink Panther. Before I claw the Pink Panther’s eyes off, let me say that that tune has to be one of the sexiest things ever composed - it works for me anyway. I used to have it as my mobile ring but then switched mobiles and now it’s too slow AND I’M HEARTBROKEN!!! [Whaaat? I’m procrastinating again, you say? I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP, IT’S STILL BLOODY HARD! It’s all I can do not to delete all this. I’m serious, not much of the Lioness left right now, it lives, it's a cub and not a very brave one at that].

So yes, Pink Panther, we all follow right? And we now know I like the PP, even though I hate being IT. Because that’s what - FUCK ME BUT THIS IS HORRENDOUS!!! - I look like. Periodically. More often than I care to. And my possible come out has been preying on my mind because I think it could help me, but mostly because I know what I feel when I see things written on other sites, so maybe I could help someone who reads me. But we (the PPs) have all learned to cope with ourselves one way or the other, but not with YOU (the dermically unchallenged); it might help others if YOU learnt what to say to them. Or more importantly, what NOT to say. Because that’s when we die a bit, somewhere, somehow, when you open your mouths and unwillingly walk all over our scarred and bare souls with spiked heels. So yes, I’ve been thinking about actually LEAVING THE PLOSET a lot since yesterday.

Today I found a quiz over at paulmonster’s, as I said: “Which famous feline are you?” I took it. HA! Guess which one I am? It's quite funny really:

You're the Pink Panther. Suave and sophisticated,
you enjoy your superiority and your natural
grace. Though to some, this attitude makes you
appear arrogant, most people are attracted by
it rather than turned off. You especially enjoy
being in the social spotlight. It just doesn't
get any better than this.

Yes, well done! I’m the fucking Pink Panther, who’d have thunk it! So I had a serious laughing fit, which left me gasping for breath, and when I could breathe again I said “FUCK THIS AND THE MARE IT RODE IN ON!” and came in to write this post. What am I worrying about, it’s all over the Blogosphere already! So, again [DON’T TRY AND RUSH ME, I’M DYING HERE!], that’s what I look like. Periodically. More often than I care to. And not much to be done, no, not much to be done. Well there's chemo but WTF? I’d rather RETURN than have liver or skin cancer as a side effect. Or baldness. Or hair growth all over. Or mutant babies, if I ever have them. So no, no chemo for me. Because, despite all, I’m still one of the lucky ones.

Fuck this, really! This is HIDEOUS! I may just be crying a bit and my face is burning. But that’s ok because it’s silly at the same time so I’m laughing as well. And I can always turn my blog private anyway - which would defeat the whole out-of-the-Ploset purpose I suppose but is still comforting to know.

So I apologise but I’ll not tell you what I’m talking about for now, I need to see how you react to this first. Tasting the waters if you will [I know it's testing but I taste them]. I need to see whether you'll be turned off if I say it's a turn-off alright before I tell you exactly how how much of a turn-off it is. Not to be melodramatic or anything but what may seem like nothing to you is in fact tremendously hard to be candid about, and tremendously hard to live with, and tremendously hard to be judged by. I'm blonde and blue-eyed and have always known what it's like to be judged by one's skin. We're the new black.

But I’ll give you a hint. It pso pso phucking psucks!

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RE-HINT: check the spelling of the last paragraph, VERY important, I wasn't being creative, there’s a point to it I prosmise. In response to you lot (comments and other media): a) I am NOT dying nor is it very serious right now, compared to - never mind for now; b) it’s NOT acne; c) it's NOT herpes