There's no accounting for what you like

I am working tonight. I am missing a goodbye party for Leif and Sarah. I'm working. I'm working cuz I didn't work much this last week. I'm working because I had a little wake up call about getting my shit together. I'm working until 11:30 and then I'm going to pick my mom up from the airport. She's flying in from Pennsylvania, land of the skin-choking humidity.

I'm researching and writing right now — all about acne. Pretty interesting. And I'll get back to that in a minute. But the whole impetus for writing was because I put on some music.... I'm doing the kind of writing that lets me listen to music with words. (If you write much you probably know how hard it is to do real writing while music with words is on.... your mind drifts to the words and you start to sing along or daydream or... Or — hey! write in your blog — so maybe I should not be listening to music right now).

Anyhow, I've had Robbie Robertson on for the last hour. I have talked about my RR lurve more than a handful of times since the dawn of this blog's life. I LOVE ROBBIE ROBERTSON. And you know what? I couldn't tell you why. I cannot tell you why. All I know is that I respond on a cellular level to Robbie Robertson.

Current song playing that inspired this blog post: Take Your Partner By the Hand off of Contact from the Underworld of Redboy.

Ten years ago it was my birthday (so technically, nine years and nine months ago). It was my birthday and my mom and I went to Nepenthe in Big Sur as we do almost every year for either of our birthdays. I was working in the Bay Area at the time. Living in Palo Alto and working in Sunnyvale. I had spent the weekend camping with my (then) boyfriend Carlos and his friends, which is a good story in and of itself and captures me at my zenith of bitchiness, but I will save that unfortunate story for another day.

So, anyway. It's my birthday. I'm with my mom. We are in our collective favorite store in the entire universe, the Phoenix (giftshop at Nepenthe), which is fabulous not just for the eclectic mishmash of this-and-that that it purveys, but for the location, for the view, for the surroundings, for the delicious smells wafting up from this corner and that, and for the people of all nationalities that are sure to be hunting and gathering throughout the stores aisles.

And we are wrapping up our shopping spree, getting ready to head upstairs for a $13 burger and an $8 beer and a $10 piece of pie. We are waiting in line and this music comes on. And this music, when it comes on, takes its ethereal hand and reaches right into my soul and holds on tight.

"What! Is! This?" I ask the clerk when I finally get up to the counter, but with seriously subdued exclamation points — more like explanation points — which I've toned down, but are still very much in my question. I had to have it. It was one of those CD moments that you hear it and you stop what you are doing and go directly to the record store without collecting your $200. "Robbie Robertson," said the clerk. "Ineeditrightnow," I said, and she happily added it to my purchase. My purchase which was purchased by my mom, cuz it was my birthday and all.

That CD was Music for the Native Americans and it remains one of my favorite CDs to this day. And that is the day Robbie Robertson won my heart. I've been unshakingly faithful all these years. Tonight I am listening to Music for the Native Americans, Redboy, and Storyville. Sigh Storyville. Don't even get me started.

Okay, best be getting back to the acne. But before I do, let me share a little acne wisdom with you that I, myself, just learned tonight.

Acne is most often caused by hyperactive sebaceous glands (glands found in follicles and pores of all mammals). The sebum released from the glands gets stuck inside the follicle, often with dead skin cells that get trapped as well. Because acne's cause is from below the skin surface, special care you may take on the top of your skin probably won't influence the acne one way or the other. In fact, if you are too agressive or if the cleanser you use is too irritating, you can actually make the acne worse. If you, or someone you love, suffers from chronic acne you really need to see a dermatologist — or even a plastic surgeon. There are new kinds of drugs, as well as light treatments, that can heal the follicles and sebaceous glands, attacking all that extra sebum and stopping the acne from spreading or persisting. FYI.

— oooh! just started: peyote healing. great great song. slobberlylovefesting on rr tonight. you should, too. —