Storm Abating

"Good morning heartache, sit down."

I'm healing rather nicely. My face, I mean. After the break-out from hell, unparalled even by the ones I'd had when I was *younger* (i.e. at an age when it was appropriate for these things to happen), I slathered on so much Clindamycin lotion on my T-Zone that I've turned it into a Z-zone, then I proceeded to wear an "anti-acne mask" for 3 hours which left my jaw muscles quite numb. It seems to be working, but oh, I won't be flawless for a while.

With other things, I'm also doing well. On the career front, new opportunities are emerging: a chance to work with my ultimate old man crush, Jimmy Abad, and possibly being accepted into a big corporate publishing outfit whose EIC I get along magnificently with. Pray that I get these, friends, so I have more money to spend with you - dinners, gifts, books, lipsticks, Luke Jicain (but me first!), a new lamp, massages, or that oh-so-tempting flight to HK for Sting's Sacred Love concert on January 26 2005.

I've also shut down the phlog temporarily. I'll resurrect it again when the shutterbug in me feels compelled to provide further proof of my lack of ability with the camera, or at the very least, my vanity.

I'll need to stop with the distractions to be able to write the 50 pages I've been putting off forever. There are too many stories I need to tell for the bloody graduate thesis to be done and over with, and the next chapter of my life to begin.