Committing a Beauty SIN

Well, it happened. I committed one of the Cardinal Sins of Beauty: "Thou shalt not squeeze blackheads."

I know, I know.

"Ew! That's nasty!"

Well, yes. It was quite nasty to go into the ladies' room at work (where all flaws are accentuated by the blue-white glow of the fluorescent lights) and see a big, black dot on the side of my chin.

Why didn't I see it while putting on my makeup? Why do buildings use these horrific lights? Why does it look so much bigger when I smile? God, it was like smooshing Silly Putty on a newspaper photo and then stretching it out.

I'm a fool, I know, but I can't resist squeezing those suckers. Usually, I use the inside of a bobby pin's hook to remove the black crud from said clogged pore (be careful if you use this method, it works, but you always run the risk of breaking a blood vessel or getting a small infection - it's always best to leave that sort of thing for an aesthetician). But since I was bobby pin-less, aesthetician-less and had a big meeting in five, I needed to act fast.

I squeezed. Nothing. I leaned toward the mirror to examine. Getting red. I squeezed again. Christ!! Now I had fingernail half-moons on my face.

I'll spare you the dirty details of what came (out) next, but after I left the bathroom with a bleeding, red chin, running late for a meeting - I made a two-part executive decision.

1. Always have a bobby pin on hand
2. Never lean that far over the bathroom sink at work without first checking for a giant puddle of someone's dirty hand-wash water, which will most certainly leave a sexy wet spot on your box.