This is not an anti-Valentine's Day message, as tempted as I am to write one. No, this missive is in honor of a time when the red-and-pink holiday was still exciting. Back when "Faith" was on every radio station, when my hair curled in a ponytail, and my feet were still in Zips.
Every February 14th, I remember finding a little treat at my place on the breakfast table, courtesy of Mom and Dad. I always dressed the part for this special day: a red jumper or pink tights, a length of red yarn in my hair. It all seemed so exciting when I was eight. I couldn't wait for the class party, the cupcakes, the chalky hearts with their dusty words. The best part was the little pocket made of construction paper that hung solemnly from the blackboard. If I was lucky, I would find a variety of colorful squares (or hearts) of glossy paper with my name on the outside. Beaming, I would clutch them to my chest, cherishing the cartoon messages. I couldn't help but count how many Valentines I got (especially noting how many were from boys!).
Valentine's Day was sweet then, a day of cupcakes, paper hearts and friends. At night, I would fall asleep smiling, with my favorite Valentine tucked underneath my pillow.....already looking forward to my next red-and-pink day.
14 February 2007
10 February 2007
Cursed
As a preteen, I met one of my greatest foes: zits. I have been plagued by those pesky red bumps ever since. I have finally figured out how to manage my skin as an adult, but it has been a very long road. I have been on just about every cream, pill, skin system, etc. The road to good skin has been a long one, rife with crappy products and bad experiences.
When my skin had gotten particularly bad in middle school, my mom decided it was time to go to the dermatologist. My nice doctor put me on everything from tetracycline to various nasty-smelling creams I put on at bedtime. After little to no good results, he finally put me on the grandaddy of all zit-zappers: Accutane. I recall really having to push him to let me go on it....but all of the pleading, mandatory blood tests, and peeling skin was completely worth it. Within about a month, people started complementing me on how nice my skin looked. More importantly, I could look into a mirror and feel good about what I saw. I was on Accutane for 6 months, but the effects lasted for years. I would happily have gone through it all again had I felt that my skin needed that strong of a medicine again. thankfully, it has not gotten to the point.
But I remember how frustrating it was to have bad skin, how much it affected my self-esteem. In my work, I see what kind of treatments teenagers now are using to correct their skin. It is basically all of the same stuff I used. I notice that their skin still is not clear. It makes me wonder about the various pills and creams that dermatologists are putting these kids on. From my experience, I know that most of this stuff just does not work. It didn't work for me, and it is obviously not working for these kids I see on a regular basis. I have a friend who has been on tetracycline for a month and has seen no improvement whatsoever....boy, do I remember those days!
It appears that there is nothing new on the market to treat acne medically, which is shame. Have these doctors not noticed that alot of the medicines they prescribe are not working? Yet they keep sending these poor kids home with a prescription for a stinky, expensive cram that is basically a waste of money. ....or some other solution that "research" dictates could treat acne. I understand that there is no cure for acne (which sounds like a load of crap in this day and age). Which is exactly why researchers should get back into the lab and work harder to find a solution to a problem that billions of people have on a regular basis. Dermatologists are also at fault for continually handing out these medicines and not attempting to be more creative in skincare solutions. It is obvious that some of these doctors care very little about the result...I would even go so far as to call them quacks. Don't tell me that some of these women or men didn't suffer from bad skin as teenagers....don't tell me they didn't go through exactly what their patients are going through now. They could at least have a little sympathy and honesty when dealing with a young person's fragile self-esteem.
When my skin had gotten particularly bad in middle school, my mom decided it was time to go to the dermatologist. My nice doctor put me on everything from tetracycline to various nasty-smelling creams I put on at bedtime. After little to no good results, he finally put me on the grandaddy of all zit-zappers: Accutane. I recall really having to push him to let me go on it....but all of the pleading, mandatory blood tests, and peeling skin was completely worth it. Within about a month, people started complementing me on how nice my skin looked. More importantly, I could look into a mirror and feel good about what I saw. I was on Accutane for 6 months, but the effects lasted for years. I would happily have gone through it all again had I felt that my skin needed that strong of a medicine again. thankfully, it has not gotten to the point.
But I remember how frustrating it was to have bad skin, how much it affected my self-esteem. In my work, I see what kind of treatments teenagers now are using to correct their skin. It is basically all of the same stuff I used. I notice that their skin still is not clear. It makes me wonder about the various pills and creams that dermatologists are putting these kids on. From my experience, I know that most of this stuff just does not work. It didn't work for me, and it is obviously not working for these kids I see on a regular basis. I have a friend who has been on tetracycline for a month and has seen no improvement whatsoever....boy, do I remember those days!
It appears that there is nothing new on the market to treat acne medically, which is shame. Have these doctors not noticed that alot of the medicines they prescribe are not working? Yet they keep sending these poor kids home with a prescription for a stinky, expensive cram that is basically a waste of money. ....or some other solution that "research" dictates could treat acne. I understand that there is no cure for acne (which sounds like a load of crap in this day and age). Which is exactly why researchers should get back into the lab and work harder to find a solution to a problem that billions of people have on a regular basis. Dermatologists are also at fault for continually handing out these medicines and not attempting to be more creative in skincare solutions. It is obvious that some of these doctors care very little about the result...I would even go so far as to call them quacks. Don't tell me that some of these women or men didn't suffer from bad skin as teenagers....don't tell me they didn't go through exactly what their patients are going through now. They could at least have a little sympathy and honesty when dealing with a young person's fragile self-esteem.
01 February 2007
Magic
13 women in a dark, hot, cramped room for 60 minutes. This is a description of one of my favorite places and times: spinning class. No, this does not refer to a group of people spinning in place for an hour....To the uninitiated, class members sit on stationary bikes, led by an instructor. The class is dominated by pounding music and shouted encouragements....or insults, depending on the individual in the lead bike. In my case,I was lucky. Laura was equal parts "you ladies are lookin' good" and "don't cheat yourself...I'm watching you!" Just when I got to point where I didn't have anything left, she'd look at me and sing along with music:"Clowns to the left, jokers to the right." It was just enough to give me the pick up I needed.
The perfect spinning class is equal parts motivation, camaraderie, instructor and music. I had all of the above for one hour, three times a week. For that hour, I could let go of everything while singing along with Aretha Franklin or Queen. No matter how much my body screamed in pain and protest, every sweat-drenched minute of that class was sweet. I have said it more than once: if I could package the feeling I had after spinning class, I'd be a very rich woman.
Unfortunately, I am no longer a part of that class due to a move. I have yet to attempt finding a replacement. Let me illustrate why this is such a task: at the end of every class Laura would always play a cool-down song, to help us come back to reality. On my last night with them, Laura looks at me perched on my bike and says: "this one is for you." Twelve pairs of hands clapped as Tina sang "Simply the Best." How else could such a moment be described, except as magic?
The perfect spinning class is equal parts motivation, camaraderie, instructor and music. I had all of the above for one hour, three times a week. For that hour, I could let go of everything while singing along with Aretha Franklin or Queen. No matter how much my body screamed in pain and protest, every sweat-drenched minute of that class was sweet. I have said it more than once: if I could package the feeling I had after spinning class, I'd be a very rich woman.
Unfortunately, I am no longer a part of that class due to a move. I have yet to attempt finding a replacement. Let me illustrate why this is such a task: at the end of every class Laura would always play a cool-down song, to help us come back to reality. On my last night with them, Laura looks at me perched on my bike and says: "this one is for you." Twelve pairs of hands clapped as Tina sang "Simply the Best." How else could such a moment be described, except as magic?
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