Last week, I got a fucking farmer’s sunburn — i.e., fried from the wrists to almost the shoulders. So yesterday, I had the bright idea that we should go to the Montgomery County Agricultural Fair because, well, I wanted to get my shoulders sunburned. A brilliant reason, no?
It worked in theory, but then again, this site pretty much chronicles my warped logic and the twisted results. 😉 My shoulders did get a bit of a burn. (I dared leave the house in a tank top. I know, Halloween came early! Sca-ry! But it looked so cute with my little denim cheerleader-type skirt that I couldn’t pass it up.)
But here’s the “of course that’s my luck” part. This morning, my shoulders are tan, and I am still tan from last week’s burn. The problem? They don’t meet!!! On each shoulder, I have a two-inch white stripe from where the respective burns did not even come close to meeting. Argh! My arms look like some designer’s bizarre gradient nightmare.
I guess life could be worse — I could have instead gone to the fair to blend in with the animal stink. Honestly, we were standing downwind of someone who had his/her/god-only-knows hands on their hips, and *barf* — it’s pretty bad when you can’t decide whether the manure smell is emanating from the four-legged or the two-legged attendees!