personal growth

I never really had a problem with acne as a teenager, and I'd say now that most (okay, all) of the zits that do decide to drop in for a visit are a direct result of my incessant need to keep my hands ALL OVER MY FACE.

So I've been trying to cut down on the constant face-touching, and so far the only tactic I've come up with for discouraging this habit is imagining the voice of my dad in my head telling me to get my hands off my face. There's this tempo to it that's hard to describe in writing, but it's something like this: "Get. Your Hands. Off of. Your FACE." In a sort of sing-song way. It's the same way he says "Get out of the way" when he's coming through the backdoor with hot burger patties or a cookie sheet with a well-cooked pig shoulder on it.

But then once I think of that I usually end up chortling to myself and thinking about barbecue. Which makes me think about my mom's beans, two different kinds, the one kind with the pineapples (Hawaiian beans, maybe?) and then the ones with the Doritos on top (Beanos? I think?) and then also her potato salad. And then usually by the end of that thought process I'm just hungry.

But by then, I'm definitely not touching my face any more. Moral of the story? Tactic is thus far TOTALLY WORKING.


cheers,
elizabeth