It's So Hot, Milk Was A Bad Choice!

Hello friends. I apologize profusely for not posting yesterday. I had a presentation during prime post time and was way too busy goofing off around the office with the other minions while all of management were locked away in a windowless conference room all day with the boys from Home Office. Besides seeing as it was 100 degrees here in Charm City, it was just too hot to sit behind a computer screen while my body succombed to Swass.

But it's Tuesday and I'm back now! So I'm sure you're all wondering how my weekend was. Well, I'm sorry to say that it was completely uneventful. I decided to "call in fat" to the weekend and opt for lounging by the pool all day, which clearly made me way too tired to go out at night. Besides, why would I want to wear jeans so tight that they leave a zipper impression on my lower Stewie when I could lounge around in my mesh ND shorts and wife beater.

On Sunday, I was pretty much camped out by the pool all day long. I sported a cute suit, my ralph lauren terry cloth cover up and packed a beach towel, The Devil Wears Prada, my cell, a Nalgene full of peach flavored iced tea, and of course tanning oil, SPF 8. What did I learn on Sunday? Well, when your skin is whiter than an actor in a kabuki drama, you probably should opt for a sunscreen with MINIMUM spf 30, not a tanning OIL. Needless to say, I ended up walking around all day yesterday looking more like Clifford, The Big Red Dog and radiating more heat than the sun then an expertly air brushed Giselle before a runway show.

A lot of my co workers were concerned about the new shade of crimson I had adorned on my skin. However, I advised that this burn was marginal compared to the sunburn of Spring, 2001. While laying out on North Quad Beach during study days of the spring semester of my Freshmen year, long before the days when Starbucks and Subway called LaFortune Home, wearing only a tank top and my tiny baby blue shorts that said Irish across the butt (this is back when I was about 40 pounds lighter... damn, NDH dysentary was like, the best diet EVER!). I fell asleep under the hot Indiana sun for approximately 6 hours, which was just about as strong as the sun in Cozumel in July.

For those of you who dont' know, North Quad Beach was only open during those last few weeks of school, when Permacloud lifted itself from the sky over South Bend and the temperature sky rocketed from 30 degrees to 85 degrees over night. North Quad Beach was a daily fixture in my routine. I would bring out my blanket and pretend to do some work, when really I would be people watching/judging with Doppler, listening to the music blaring from Farley and keeping my eyes peeled for any stray frisbees. You could always expect the boys from Zahm to bring out furniture (and by furniture, I mean their sofas and la-z-boys, not patio furniture) and a blow up pool. Clap would venture over from West Quad with his guitar and Sherpa would be making the rounds to the various groups of people asking if they wanted to buy Pig Tostal Tickets. Clearly, the most important questions on everyone's mind was whether they could get away with skipping class and when they were goign to turn on Stone Henge. There wasn't a sunny day that didnt pass when I wasn't on North Quad Beach, which solidified my status as North Quad Beach Icon.

When I woke up in a pool of my own sweat and dehydrated beyone belief, I realized that my skin was literally cooking on my body. The next three days were spent vomiting from sunstroke, sleeping with no blankets because I couldn't stand letting anything touch my body, and being freezing cold as a result of my skin being so hot. But, after those three days, let me tell you: BEST TAN EVER! The problem? I was left with permanent tank top and short shorts tan lines for literally two and a half years following the tanning debaucle.

Anyway, I digress. Since the sunburn incident of 2001, my tan lines have reverted back to normal and I now possess the ability to wear a bathing suit with out looking like a complete freakshow. However, after last Sunday's burn, I have a whole new set of tan line issues. Since the only people at my pool essentially comprise the entire geriatric community of Northern Baltimore County, I figured it was ok to brave the sun in a bikini. I mean, who did I have to impress? Well, now i know why girls with bellys should NEVER wear bikins. When you're hunched over reading a book and you belly is touching your miniscule boobs, no sun is going to reach the area just under the bottom of your bikini top. Consequently, I am currently sporting two "U" shaped white marks on my stomach that showcase a reflection of my tatas within my tan. Sweet. If that wasn't bad enough, Stewie has a tendency to crease in around my belly button. So, unless I'm laying completely flat on my back, my belly button goes into hibernation pulling a good chunk of beer gut in along with it. Now, I have a strip of lily white belly running straight across the middle of my body. I seriously look like a Zebra whose recently been exposed to high levels of radiation.

So what does all of this mean for the streak? Well basically, this will have forced me to continue with my absence in riding the bologna pony until my tan fades and I no longer look ferocious without my clothes on. Let's be honest, even if I had the opportunity to break the streak, the second my shirt came off, he'd go running far away for fear that I was not in fact from this planet. However, if anyone asks, I'll be taking this time/opportunity to perfect my "play hard to get" methods of flirtation. The fact that my body color is currently on opposite sides of the color wheel will remain our little secret.

Should have gotton on the Banana Boat,
Anita Mann