1, 2, 3, To a Darker Me

Today marks my second spray tanning experience. In fact, I'm sitting in my living room in my skivvies at this very moment, letting my golden glow settle in. I know, I know – so vain, a waste of money, blah blah blah. I don't necessarily disagree, yet here I am – gradating before my very eyes and pretty okay with the whole thing. It's not a regular thing for me (hence it only being my second experience), but when it comes to wearing cocktail dresses in the middle of winter, it's really the safest option. 

The lady who beamed me up told me – as I was standing there in all my glorious splendor – that she remembered me (from the last time I went...about 8 months ago, mind you), and that I've lost weight since last time I was in. I have categorical evidence to the contrary, and I recognize that she probably says that to every single person who walks in that door, but yes, yes that did earn her another buck or two in tip.

As I sit here drying, I can't help but wonder when it became acceptable to strip down in front of a perfect stranger and let them re-color your body. Or let an esthetician get up-close-and-personal and introduce you to Brazil. O-M-G! I just remembered another outrageous interesting thing this lady told me. She has a master's degree – A MASTER'S DEGREE – in tanning (TaNnInG)! That's right. I can't wait to see the edge that gives me this weekend. I just hope nobody found a tanner with a doctorate!