On being pasty

There are a few things that I'm certain are immediately apparent about me upon introduction:

I smile pretty easily
I have a decent sized rack
I'm white as ass

Oddly enough, I have hangups about all three of these things, but for now I'd like to focus on being white as ass.

Being white as ass wouldn't bother me so much if I didn't look so much better with a tan. But I do. I really do. See this picture? This one, above this sentence? That's me, second from the right. I think that's the tannest I've ever been, and it was courtesy of self-tanner I applied almost every day in the summer of 05, when I first moved back down to DC. I've never had more confidence. Seriously.

Which is why, on days like today, when it's a gorgeous 80 degrees out and a group of friends decide to go to the Arboretum, I opt out of sunscreen. Consequently, I'm sunburned.

Keep in mind I assured my equally white as ass roommate I put it on, because I didn't want the lecture. Now she's staring at me in wonder, since we used the same sunblock and she's not burned!

I'm such an asshole.

One day, I'll look back on this blog, likely as I'm enduring another stage of skin cancer, and curse myself for being so damned stupid. Haven't Kate Winslet and Nicole Kidman finally brought respect to the lily white skinned? No. You'd think they have, but they haven't. Ever seen a pic of them in shorts grocery shopping? I didn't think so. If they were caught, the light from their legs probably ruined the lighting of the picture. Even Photoshop can't fix that crap.

So I sit here, with odd lines dividing the white from the red, making me look more like a Christmas candy than a girl with a healthy glow. Still, I bet when I wake up tomorrow I'll think I look pretty good. Keep in mind that the day my face broke out in a red rash due to an allergic reaction to skin cream, my boss told me I should do my makeup that way as she thought I looked great.

Just sayin...