I planned to start this with the definition of 'mortified'. Instead I will start by saying GG is in A-LOT... TREMENDOUS LOT... of T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
GG is the root, the source, the very essence of my mortification. GG is the one who left a love bite, otherwise known as a hickey on my neck. The neck that is exposed in most of the clothing I wear. The neck that is exposed because it is so short that I rarely wear (or own) collared tops. The neck that has a bright purple bruise on it the size of a half dollar. Yes, mes enfants this is no 'oops I got carried away by passion' little red smudge this is a whopper of a HICKEY ON MY NECK!
So this is my S-O-S. Any ideas? Thoughts? Advice? I'm not speaking to GG. He had the nerve to laugh when I called him this morning and told him what I found on my neck. My only reprieve is that I was off today for Columbus Day, but I have to go to work tomorrow.
By all that's holy it's not like I've never had a hickey before. I have. You know little tiny raspberries that are gone in half a day. But nothing and I mean NOTHING like this monstrosity. I'm livid. Embarrassed doesn't begin to cover my mortification. I'm not exaggerating either. Although it occurs I sound slightly hysterical at this point.
So, you might be wondering why am I exposing this on my very public blog? Well, with the exception of Luann, no one at work reads my blog AND I need your help.
Does anyone have any cure for hickeys? Remedies to make it go away fast? Something. Anything. Well, anything other than the requisite half pound of pancake makeup that is currently smeared over my friend 'Igor the love bite'.
You have no idea, well Holly might since MM is a cop, how merciless fire fighters, et al, will be if they catch the slightest wind or sight of this thing. My life will be unbearable for the foreseeable future.
Boys suck. No pun intended.
***ETA*** I think the hot and cold treatment has helped because the bright purple bruise seems to have faded quite a bit. Keep your fingers crossed that with the