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a required taste for the pretentious as all get out


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i don't know why i'm telling you this
November 10, 2004, 6:31 pm

"I'm in the shower, and when I'm in the shooooweeeerrr, I sing a goofy song to maaaaakkkkeee it oookaaaay that I'm ggooooingggg to woooorkkk! In the shower! In the shower! I scrub my tum, and I scrub my thighs, and I scrub my bum! I scrub my bum! I scrub my buu--what the--oh for fuck's sake." --me, in the shower, this morning.

Remember Sassy? The early 90s teen magazine edited by Jane Pratt before it disappeared in '95 and was replaced by pages of suck? Yeah, the shitty Sassy released a board game (I may still have it) and you had to give advice for "teen" dilemmas like, "I really like my cousin, in fact, we're in love!" or "My stepfather hates me" or "Don't laugh, but I have pimples on my butt!" It was this last poor teen dilemma that my sisters and I found to our ultimate delight and quoted often around the dinner table. "Please pass the carrots, and don't laugh, but I have pimples on my butt!"

The advice the game gave was to simply wear cotton underwear and apply an astringent to the affected area.

Yeah, so back to the song I sang this morning. I discovered that karma, indeed, is a bitch. For years of making fun of this poor fictional girl's plight, I discovered this morning that I am harboring A (single) pimple. On my butt. Right cheek. For real, how DOES that happen? Perhaps was I wearing a thong too often and friction caused from wearing pants against bare skin resulted in a surplus of oil? Did a renengade clogged pore decide that HERE, upon my BUTTOCKS, was a safe place to harvest and go relatively undetected (I mean, for real, I'm not checking out my ass in the mirror every opportunity without my hot jeans on, know what I'm sayin'?)? Did Mother Nature, in her infinite wisdom, give me something to make me horribly uncomfortable because I'm doing splendidly lately? Was my vigorous scrubbing of that area and its surroundings not enough, or did I simply miss that tiny area with my loofah every day?

The HORROR. The SHAME of it! (I don't mean to give the impression that anyone else but me is currently seeing my naked ass, mind you; sorry to disappoint.) And the day before my play! It is, my dears, too much information and a mystery.

I will say, however, that if the only thing going wrong in my life currently (besides my two leads sick as dogs and having to resort to understudies who are good, but not as well-rehearsed) is a bump on my rear, then, well, life is good. Hope yours is, too.

Don't laugh!

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