BURN!!

I could be this chick, I suppose. Her skin looks like she is a pug.

Last week, I went tubing for the first time. You may have read about it and my #WTSDS. But it's been a week and a day, and while the redness has subsided from the resulting sunburn, my skin is itching non-stop. Like, I would be at work and would have to run to the bathroom just so I could scratch my skin for 5-10 minutes in peace and without feeling embarrassed. Or wake up in the middle of the night and sit in a warm bath just to make it stop.

Weird thing is, I'm not peeling. It just feels like I have ten million bug bites that won't go away.

Anyways, it turns out that there is a list of things you should and shouldn't do when you have itchy sunburn and I pretty much did all of it wrong. So in the interest of helping you all out in the heat of the summer, here's some tips and tricks courtesy of WikiAnswers to making sure you recover quickly.

Random Thoughts for April 11.

I’m as red as an apple waiting to be peeled.

This morning I was sitting in traffic (which my ‘short-cut’ suddenly started sucking this week, making my commute an extra 10 minutes long) and I was putting my makeup on because I was running a tad late this morning.

As I’m applying my powder I begin to notice that chunks of skin are coming off my face. Great. So now I look like a two-toned freak, but only on my forehead and nose.

Lesson of the week: don’t think you are invincible. Wear SPF 15.

So yesterday, Justin and I checked out a country club. I’ve never belonged to a country club before, but Justin participated in one growing up since he is such an avid golfer.

I’m not exactly fru-fru or feeling the need to belong to cliques (i.e. I never joined any Greek organizations in college), but the idea of the country club is tempting.

Everyone was pretty nice, and they all seem to drink a lot. “Hey, come join our tennis group. We have mimosas before we play.” Quickly followed by another woman, “Join our ladies golf group – we drink Bloody Mary’s before and after we play.” I mean, seriously, how can you not pass that up? Right? Eh?

I just don’t want to show up to work tan, blonde, and stupid, which I’m quite concerned may occur. Or worse, quit my job to spend my life drinking mimosas before a game of drunken tennis (which I’m sure I pretty sure I would get hurt, as evident by my rollerblading incident).

Will they pressure me to have children and quit my job? Will I be obligated to showcase my lack of athletic ability in return for a false sense of camaraderie among women that are everything I stand against in this world? Or, am I feeding a stereotype, and in truth, these women are hard-working, equally athletically talentless individuals like myself that are just trying to do these things for their husbands? Or do they even have husbands?

ARGH! I’m torn! Is it possible to keep your sense of individuality while succumbing to the proper etiquettes of the country club.

Or did I really just want to tell Justin, “HEY! How about you buy me a Mini-Cooper instead and we’ll call it a day?” Man, Gone in 60 Seconds is good.