I’m a firm believer in better living through chemistry.   For example, I inhale vitamins like they’re going out of style.  I invest in Botox on an as needed basis.  And I can often be found trying out various detox and/or cleansing programs.

It’s all in a veiled attempt to look and feel better.  Well, that … and I’m vain.

Yesterday, I broke down and had a laser peel.  I thought it would instantly take a few years off my face.  Not only did it take a few years off, it also wiped out an entire layer of my epidermis.  I woke up this morning to a face that looked like a cake left out in the rain.   Yes, my face fell off. 

From what I can ascertain … most people think laser peels are wonderful.   I would agree — minus the overall pain, discomfort, tightness, redness, swelling, blisters and peeling.

Of course, I have no one to blame but myself for this brief bout with leprosy.

It sounded like a good idea at the time, mind you.  You get rid of old, dead skin.  Then, in its place, new skin will grow.  I should have had an indication of how bad it was going to be when my aesthetician turned on a huge vacuum over my head.  I said, “What’s with the vacuum?”  She said, “It’s to suck up the dead skin cells so I don’t inhale them.”

Joy.

The vacuum, however, did not eradicate the gag-inducing aroma of burning flesh that permeated the room.  It’s been over 24 hours now – and that acrid smell is still seared (pun intended) in to my nostrils.

We’ll see about the results in a few weeks.  But for now, I’ve got to go lather up my face with a special salve.  Apparently, it’s to keep my face moist and supple so it doesn’t crack and make me look unattractive.

As if.