WARNING: This Post is Not for Everyone (But Not Ironically Was of Interest to Every Woman I Have Spoken To About it So Far Today....)

Let me serve as a warning to all....to all that may be inclined to, shall we say, pick at a blemish on their face. Perhaps you are one of the lucky (or refined) ones who does not have that dirty little secret.....but if you are, you shall be the first woman that I spoke with today that does not partake in a little bit of this in front of the mirror. Because the rest of us? We carry this shameful trait. And under the cover of my blog, I will stand up and admit that I do....or at least I did, until today.

Last night, I felt so inclined to engage in some "self-help" and messed around-- and for not very long mind you, a little bit with a tiny, red bump at the end of my eyebrow-- in ingrown hair, perhaps?-- closest to my ear. And not for very long, either. When I finished, feeling virtuous about taking care of the little pimple even after engaging in what I knew was not appropriate skin care behavior, I put some antibiotic ointment on a little bandaid and applied that to my little red bump overnight.

When I awoke, it was a big, red swollen eye, both above and below. Figuring that maybe I shouldn't mess around with my eye, since I, ya know, enjoy my vision and all-- and ironically having the morning off anyway, I ventured into the urgent care clinic. The doctor at urgent care took one look and said "Periocular Cellulitis!" And lo, I am now on big time antibiotics. The drug is so strong that had I not had good prescription health insurance, it would have run me several hundred dollars. Apparently, had I waited much longer, I might well have been on IV antibiotics in the hospital instead of running the Xterra 1Ok Saturday! And my eye? It hurts!Scary stuff!

The blemishes on your face, people? They drain into the tissue on your face. Gross and scary, indeed. And yet as many as ten women I have shared this story with today-- each and every one, in fact-- has shamefully replied "OMG! I can't believe this has never happened to me! I'm a picker, too..." (though some identified themselves as "poppers". Call it what you will, ladies. You are among friends.)

My sister and I actually got laughing so hard we couldn't speak (though I think it may have been decidedly less funny were she at my bedside in the hospital, leaning over my IV cord!?!?). "I fall into the trap," said she, "when I'm up late, and everyone else is asleep, and I'm overtired. I look into the magnifying mirror on the bathroom counter, and there they are, seemingly shouting, 'Pick me, pick ME-- literally!'" Sad but true.

Is this too much information? Perhaps. But think of it all as a public service announcement of sorts. If you, too, are part of this secret, shameful, and yes, gross behavior-- think twice-- or thrice-- before you touch your face again. I'm just sayin'.