Scrambled Eczema!

Hello peeps, those of the facebookery and/or blog-reading stripe, you are now encountering your number one fan: Taffy McKittrick! Can I inform you that the post-holiday ennui and utter despair I referred to in my last blog post has continued and has begun to manifest itself on my skin: that's correct, my eczema is flaring!

To be sure, this unsightly and uncomforting disease gets little play in the press. People would rather blather on about saving starving people or using my tax money to give homes to abused mountain goats but let me be clear when I say this: eczema is no laughing matter. It is one of the most serious and deadly (at least socially) of the dermatological disorders currently facing this nation. How does the afflicted person carry on with his day? How does he bathe, clean and loofah himself without rubbing his arms and legs raw? How can he prepare hot delicious meals without falling prey to rabid scratching? Some of these answers are not available, and some won't be available until there are patents pending but lets be clear: there are lotions, salves and unguents available over-the-counter. When you apply said lotions on your body, you must exercise caution lest you begin to scratch (take my words for it) and your arm quickly resembles a red raw bleeding hamburger meat patty resting gently upon a lightly toasted hairy bun.

We need to address dating for a moment. As you're well-versed on my lifestyle choices and overall love life you know that I currently am not employing a lover, lady lover, paramour or girlfriend. Don't despair and presume that this condition is promoted by eczema for it is not. However I cannot deny the internal throb of shyness that causes me to stare at women - beautiful and plain alike - on the bus or at the mall and not be able to actually approach them. I can't do it! I just stare and stare until they either stare back or get creeped out and move on. It's awkard as hell! Plus, my arms - my best feature I was told once - are generally covered up to hide the unsightly nature of my disease.

Look, this isn't pleasant, any of it. But I want to be honest with you. I want - no scratch that - I need you to 'get' me. If I am indeed your Taffy-man you will take me warts and all. Note: merely an expression, I contain no warts.

God Bless You!!