Lansi-NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Yes, I realize I haven't written anything in awhile. Stop hatin'.

A big reason I haven't written lately is that I've been traveling quite a bit. And at some point I'll share those adventures. But in the meantime, I had a horrifying thing happen recently.

In my on-going struggles with Tazorac (which I do actually think is FINALLY starting to work), my lips have been peeling horribly. They used to be just swollen and sore. But lately, they just come off in sheets. In general, this is super hot, but it's particularly hot when you're kissing someone and half your mouth is on their face afterward.

To put this in context, I have tried the following products to remedy this situation, all to no avail:

- Burt's Bee's
- Smith's Rosebud Salve
- Blistex Medicated
- Vaseline
- a couple of tubes of some natural brands from Whole Foods
- Chapstick Overnight
- Carmex (despite its addictive properties)
- Cetaphil cream
- Eucerin cream

Key words in that last sentence: "all to no avail". SO, you can imagine my excitement when my friend Sharon announced she had a sure fire remedy. Sharon has a two year old, and apparently she used this product when she was breast-feeding for chapped nipples (!!!) but soon realized it was fantastic as a lip balm.

"So what is it?"

"Lamisil."

"Lamisil?"

"Yes. It's amazing."

After I'd worked through my nausea at the idea of using a product typically used for breast-feeding on my lips, I decided to give it a try. So a couple of days later, while drunk at the flagship Wal-Mart in Rogers, Arkansas (don't ask), I bought a tube of Lamasil. That I was drunk is my only excuse for not noticing the FOOT on the bottle as I confidently smeared it all over my lips, thrilled that I'd found the magic solution.

But two seconds after application, my lips were no longer moisturized. They weren't even close to being soft and supple. Instead they were dryish, tingly, and had this odor that made my nose burn.

I looked on the back of the bottle, and saw it said "Do not use in or near mouth."

Now, here's where my faith in Sharon becomes abundantly clear. After I'd sobered up the next day, and had actually thought through the fact this product had a foot on it, and it said not to use in or near mouth, I continued to use it for approximately 4 days. In my defense, it also said that it relieved dry, cracked skin...which, I did have. However, my lips were still coming off in sheets.

She'd said she bought it in the baby aisles of stores, so four days later when I was shopping at Target, I went to the baby aisle just to see if there was another product that seemed to be more of what she'd described. Perhaps it had a boob on the front of the bottle instead of a foot?

I called her from the aisle.

"What was it you said I should use on my mouth?"

"Lamasil."

"Hmmmm...okay. Well, that's what I've been using, but it doesn't seem to be doing anything, and it says not to use it in or near your mouth?"

"That's silly. Breast-feeding mothers use it all the time, and they certainly wouldn't use it if was bad for their babies' mouths."

I agreed she had a good point, so decided to continue using it.

That night, I got a phone call from Sharon.

"What did you say you were using on your mouth, again?" she asked.

"Lamasil."

"Oh, thank God. I thought you said Lamasil, with an 'm'."

"Um. I did say Lamasil with an 'm'."

Here's where I knew I was in trouble. Not only did I realize that I'd misunderstood her, but she also started laughing hysterically and asked how long I'd been using it. When I replied at least four days, she started laughing so hard, I could actually hear the tears streaming down her face.

"Nooooooo, Liz!! Lamasil is for Athlete's Foot!"

Well, that at least explained the foot on the package. But then I heard faintly in the background, Sharon's husband add, "And jock itch," which only made Sharon laugh harder.

"Wait just a goddamn minute," I shouted. "All this time, I've been freaked out about putting tit cream on my face, and it turns out this shit is NUT cream???!!!"

Again. More laughter. This time, my roommate who was hearing my side of things starts also hysterically laughing.

"Oh Liz," Sharon said between laughs, "I'm so sorry. It's called LANasoh."

(Which, for the record, when mumbled sounds EXACTLY like "Lamasil.")

She promised to bring me a tube the next day. I hung up completely exasperated with what had just happened. I was explaining to my roommate how I'd managed to overlook the packaging - both the foot and the warning - when my phone rang again. It was Sharon's husband.

"Liz??? My wife thinks you hate her." (The ol' send-your-husband-in-to-do-your-dirtywork trick.)

"I don't HATE her, but I swear to God if my nose turns into a dick at any point, you assholes are in serious trouble."

(Calling to Sharon) "Honey, i think she's fine."

As promised, Sharon brought me a tube of her miracle cure the next day. A purple bottle - oddly the exact same shade as my tube of Lamasil - only this one featured a breast-feeding mother on the front, not a foot. It was also called Lansinoh, which pronounced correctly, even while mumbling, sounds NOTHING like Lamasil.

I can honestly say my lips are better than ever. Though it's also worth noting that Marvin Sparkles has no idea what he's been kissing for the past week.

Heh.