The Irish Tan: A Look at My Summers

Every summer, I undergo a transformation.  The winter so stifles my spirit that by the time summer comes, I'm ready to soak up the sun, sprout some freckles and start a process that takes my skin color from one extreme to another:

 

As you can see, it's a major upheaval that requires a specific process.

This process usually begins around this time of the year, when the sun starts to come out and the temperatures rise, making the outdoors not only tolerable, but in some instances preferable.  It is during this time of year that I start venturing into my backyard for short sunning sessions, taking all the necessary SPF precautions.

 

The once-a-week backyard sun sessions are a good start.  Then, usually around the beginning of the summer, I get the opportunity to go on a beach vacation, which in my feeble mind will undoubtedly become my personal Shangri-La regardless of the presence of other humans...

 

But after a few days on this beach vacation, I note with some dismay that the parts of my body that have been regularly exposed to the sun are not really distinguishable from the parts of my body that have never been exposed to the sun.

 

After having reached this epiphany and having had a night to sleep on it, the next morning's sun preparation becomes a much higher-stakes event.

 

"Ok, I'll only wear it for a few minutes.  I'll just go poolside with it, stay out for a very short while, and then dart back in."

So I slather on the mystical tanning lotion and take it to the pool, at which point I am invariably too distracted to notice that the sun has become a little more agitated.

 

There's a reason the sun has taken notice.

You know how those special tanning-specific lotions work?

SUN PHEREMONES.

 

The sun is driven mad with affection for the lotion.  And because the lotion is attached to my skin, it becomes the hapless honeymoon destination for a very pro-jazz-hands group of sunbeams and lotion molecules.

 

(Sunbeam not to be confused with Spaghatta Nadle)

Also, I linked to a clean Spaghatta Nadle clip - the others are more vulgar

The meeting of these star-crossed lovers does not bode well for me.

 

For a while, I declare myself as being No Longer on Speaking Terms with the sun.

 

But after a while, the burns go away and my alleged "highly rententive memory" dismisses the memories of being burned in favor of remembering lines from Scrubs and I resume my backyard ritual.

 

Unfortunately, I don't reach this point until the summer starts to draw to a close and conditions are becoming increasingly hostile towards sunbathing.

 

So I get all the UVA and UVB rays (again, with SPF 15) I can until the shivering causes me to fall off my sun chair, finally achieving my impeccable Irish Tan.

Then winter comes and I get to the business of fading it and wishing summer were back.