I grew up without health insurance and never saw a doctor about it until I was 23 or so, when I was working full time in radio. The first doctor I saw made me constantly feel like I was overreacting. She gave me some prescriptions for various lotions and shampoos. I was told just “wash your hair more” and when that didn’t work, of course “wash your hair less.” The dermatological equivalent of saying “well don’t do that” when I say “it hurts when I do this.” Once, she told me “it’s a chronic condition, you’re just going to have to learn to live with it.” Bitch.

So I did.

It comes and goes, never completely going away. I get a break every 2 or 3 months for a couple weeks before it flairs up again. Even when it’s at its best I turn into a giant ball of stress if I start to sweat, since that seems to exacerbate the condition. In restaurants I’ve always rushed to the seat with its back against the wall. It’s probably at it’s worst for about 4 months out of the year. More than once during these times I’ve been asked to leave hair salons in the middle of haircuts because I was bleeding. (They’re aggressive with those fucking clippers.) It sucks. As any of the quadrillions of people with acne will tell you, it can really affect your self esteem. We live with it.

I had first heard of Accutane a few years before Katrina. Alberto had gone through a course and said it was the greatest thing he’s ever done. Many other people I’ve talked to have said the same. I asked a new doctor “if it was right for me.” He said it would work, but he wanted to try *fill in name of shampoo here* first. I explained to him that I’ve tried almost everything. Just doing a google search I easily remember the following medications being in my medicine cabinet at one time or another: Erythromycin, doxycycline, minocycline, Clindamycin, Adapalene and Tretinoin. I’ve used T-Gel, T-Sal, Skin Cap, nizoral, every variation of anti-dandriff shampoos out there. I’ve tried baby brands and other shampoos for ultra-sensitive skin. I’ve scrubbed with more Tea Tree Oil, Salytic Acid and Benzoil peroxide than you could imagine. I’ve rinsed my hair with cold water and rubbed ice cubes on my face.

Since I haven’t had insurance the last year and a half, it’s gotten really bad once again. I’m so used to feeling miserable about it that it doesn’t phase me anymore. It just can’t be mentally sound to be at peace with the fact that I feel like shit about myself, can it?

My insurance kicked in three weeks ago and I immediately got an appointment with a dermatologist (as I normally do when I first get new insurance.) This time, there was no way in hell that I was going to accept another prescription for some bullshit lotion or shampoo.

It’s 2009, damnit. People are getting botulism injected into their vaginas and shit, I want the real deal this time. I don’t care if the new sure-fire treatment for adult acne is to smear peanut butter over red hot pokers and jam them up my ass — call me Goatse, I’ll be spreading wide.

Um, so anyway.

I had my appointment two days ago and when the doctor walked in, she asked me how long have I had acne like this. I said “it’s not always this bad, but I’ve been living with it since I was like 16 or 17.” Just as I was going to start stomping on the ground and launch into my chant of “no more shampoo!”, she said “that’s crazy, have you tried Accutane?”

And like that… I was filling out paperwork, getting an appointment for blood work and pledging that I would not get pregnant while on Isotretinoin. I really hope this helps. Like, really-really.

The blood work was done yesterday and if there’s no bun in the oven and my cholesterol isn’t crazy-high, I can fill my prescription on Monday. I only had to wait 19 years.

(No hot pokers necessary.)

Anyway, although Gerry was voted off the contest last week, losing to some guy that was kind of a “meh” singer but apparently is popular at the bar (whatever that means,) one of our other friends, John, was still in the running.

Last week, John closed the night with a rousing rendition of Man of La Mancha that nearly tore the roof off the place. Unfortunately, John was voted off this week. (Also losing to Mr. Meh.)

John was robbed.

After the contest, Gerry bravely sang Photograph (in the style of Def Leppard.) I have to admit, channeling my inner Paula Abdul, it wasn’t the best song choice for him but it sure was entertaining. At several points, when he was trying to hit the high notes, I thought the microphone was cutting out. Nope, it was just his voice.

Anyway, a bit later I got drunk and had my ass grabbed by someone’s creepy grandfather just as Gerry stepped on stage to sing I Hate Everything About You.

I give you… Gerry (in the style of Ugly Kid Joe.)

I’m going to try to stop thinking those things. Those thoughts are dead to me. A pox on their houses!

Oh shit, that would be my head.

More hair on their houses!

I’ve gotten into the habit of saving posts as drafts. Then, I fool myself into thinking that I’ll come back later and finish them. I have 26 unfinished drafts in my queue right now — one of which is titled “The Parrotheads have descended upon the quarter” and was first written in January of 2006.

From now on, I’m going go back to my old way of blogging, which was to post some inane piece of crap at 2am and then proceed to rewrite it for a week until it’s a completely different post, after being publicly humiliated by my sloppy grammar and poor word choice.

I will also try to stop rushing to put it away while contemplating my blog at the urinal. I keep peeing down my leg.

The monuments, museums and memorials of DC can easily fade into the background and be taken for granted.

Then all of a sudden I’ll turn a corner and say to myself “wow, there’s the Washington Monument” or “hey, isn’t that where the president lives?”

Suddenly it becomes pretty cool again.

Washington Post reporter Tim Craig relays that the D.C. Council has voted 13-0, without debate, to recognize same-sex marriages performed in other states.

Holy crap.

UPDATE: D.C. Council member Marion Barry (D-Ward 8) has now asked that the gay marriage bill be reconsidered. He didn’t realize what he was voting on before.

Holy holy crap. Bwahahaha!

Tadd’s other kitty, Caroline.