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Friday, March 28, 2008

A piece of my sunless soul

I don’t usually like to get personal here on the internet, but I’ve had an experience this week that I feel strongly that I should share. Maybe someone else out there is going through something similar, I hope that my words can lift you up in your dark time and let you know that you are not alone.

In the winter my legs spend most of their time covered by pants and socks, I’m sure you can imagine. In the spring when it is time to reveal them for the first time of the year it can be a little shocking. I never seem to remember just how pasty I was the year before.

You might be thinking here-“Don’t you shower, or shave or something? Do you expect us to believe you haven’t seen those ghostly things in months?” Sure, I’ve seen them, but nothing ever prepares me for the horror of the sight of them in a skirt or shorts or heaven forbid—a swim suit!

This year I decided to take matters into my own hands and got my hot little hands on some L’Oreal “dermo-expertise” Sublime Bronze self- tanning gelee. With a name like that how could I go wrong? I’ve read all about how self tanners have come so far, no streaks, no orange hands, no knees and ankles darker than everything else.

What kind of shenanigans could I get into?

I showered, I shaved, and I exfoliated. I waited until I had plenty of drying time. I was so careful in my application, making sure I got an even layer of gelee, but not too much on my knees and feet. I washed my hands immediately with soap and water. I followed every direction and suggestion. Then I waited.

My legs dried and I went to sleep, blissful in the knowledge that no child would run screaming at the sight of my ghostly legs this year. No, this year I would have legs that said “Why yes, we did go to the Mediterranean for spring break.” I would be the envy of the PTO.

But alas, it was not meant to be. Yesterday morning I awoke to flesh the color of, well, carrots. That’s right; you can call me Lindsay Lohtan. It is not pretty. In fact it is down right ugly. My dreams of beautifully bare tan legs have been replaced by a woman sweating her way through the next few days waiting and hoping that the color fades quickly. I can not even wear flip flops people. My feet are ORANGE (evenly orange mind you, but orange just the same).

Consider yourselves warned. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, if you want to be tan, you are just going to have to brave the melanoma to get it. As for me, pasty is looking better all the time.

3 comments:

blah blah blah said...

i had the same experience two years ago, it was horrible. I don't want orange skin or cancer so pasty i am. During this year's spring cleaning of medicine cabinets I found the two bottles (yes, I was originally tricked into it by a bargain BOGO sale) and threw them in the trash with a sneer. Never. Again.

blah blah blah said...

Your Google add to the left says "Tanning Supplies Click Here". They don't read your blog at Google I'm afraid.

-June

wesley's mom said...

At Google or much of anywhere else, sadly. The masses just don't know what they are missing.

Once after a post on how I feel about boob jobs there were ads for married people to meet other married people, to date. As if!

 
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