No, this post is not about last night's dinner. It is, actually, about the condition of my skin this morning. BARBECUE Rotisserie Chicken is probably the most appropriate description. Honestly, I don't know what I've done to deserve skin like this... I take the term "basking" in the sun to a whole new level.
While my family soaks up sun and turns into perfectly browned biscuits, I gracefully burn and freckle.
Today is our last day at the beach, and I will sit in the house with the oldies. Yesterday, in an attempt to come home with some semblance of a "beach" look, I slathered myself in tan extender (leftover from the spray tan disaster) and hit the sand. Kathryn warned me that this was a bad idea, but the image of golden legs in my head made me oblivious to any sense of reason.
Well, I should have listened... By 3:30PM I could barely move my legs. And, by 10PM when my family and I went out for a margarita and a "night on the town," I was literally sick. As in, had to clear a shopping bag in preparation for a puke. I am so fun to go out with. (And, super attractive, not to mention.)
Dearest Epidermis,
Truly, I've been good to you. I don't smoke or drink, I stay hydrated, and I get plenty of sleep. I moisturize, I use SPF (every day if you count my make-up), I don't go to tanning beds, and I really only lay out once a year on vacation. I have EVEN forgiven you for being covered in freckles and mostly translucent. Would it really be too much to ask for a little natural color? Or, at the very least, NOT turning into a baked lobster? Thank you for your consideration!
Love,
E
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