Weekend preparedness...

So this weekend is Memorial weekend.

A weekend of BBQ, lake trips, family, and friends.

I decided this was going to be the year I do something about my chronic whiteness. Meaning I am usually the whitest person wherever we are and I am tired of people covering their children's eyes for fear of permanent damage due to the sheer brightness that my skin radiates once sunlight hits it.

I figured a spray tan would be the best option. No risk for melanoma and should be fairly easy. I talked with my boss about it who told me to make sure and rub everything down fast and also wash your make up off before you get in. Got it. Little did I know how much I did not "get it"

After an intense kickboxing work out, I was super pumped to get my "tan on". I had completed the "G" in "GTL" and now I was going to do the "T". I was on a euphoric high. I was about to be a different color than translucent and I could not wait. I get to the tanning salon and explain my dilemma. The girl from the front desk was super nice. She explained everything to me and I went into to the spray room like a champ. After telling me how impressed she was with my courage, she let me be to undress and begin the process. I began looking for a sink to wash my face off. No such luck. "Oh well" I thought, and began to lotion the areas and apply the gloves and booties. Just before getting into the machine, I thought "This is simple enough, why was she so impressed with me?" and then I closed the door and pushed the button.

The next 30 seconds were sheer terror. The spray went into my mouth, up my nose, and into my eyes. My mascara began to run and burned like the fire of a thousand suns. Once the spray "torture" tan was done, I opened the door and emerged sliding around like a newborn calf does after birth. I couldn't see anything, I had this stuff in my mouth and I was panicking thinking I was going to have brown teeth. I had to find a place to spit and the towel. As soon as began rubbing the towel over my body I realized I had made a grave mistake. I looked like I had just been dropped in a giant bucket of molasses. Kinda like Cruella Deville. It was awful. As much as I rubbed the lotion and tried to figure out what I had done wrong, it still streaked. Dark brown streaks... After 5 minutes I conceded and called for help.

The salon worker knew what to do and began getting to work. Luckily she was able to salvage what had gone horribly wrong. It was at this point I realized this gunk was in my hair.  My beautiful platinum blonde hair. Panic hit again. I had to get home. I. Had. To. Get. Home. I told her I am sure everything would turn out fine, felt the hives starting to form as anxiety took hold, and bolted out the door. No shoes, no bra, just ran to my car and took off.

Luckily, it washed out. And after waiting 5 hours I took a shower and the streaks that ran down my butt cheeks washed off. I am now not "as pasty' as I was before. I will probably NEVER use the machine again and will stick to having someone spray me themselves or just remain white. Either way this was a learning experience. And boy did I learn.

I am now prepared (somewhat) for laying out on the lake.




*I want to give a big THANK YOU to the troops for all their service and all they do. Thank you for fighting for my freedom to be able to experience everything.

Til next time :)