I'm beginning to suspect that my legs have long since lost the ability to generate melanin (which I just realized that I've been mistakenly calling "melatonin" all freaking day ... oops). You know, that stuff that makes your skin tan when you're out in the sun? Yeah.
Today was one of those exceptional, beautiful sunny days (hardly a cloud in the sky) that San Francisco has once in a while. It wasn't too hot, there was a nice breeze that wasn't too chilling, and on an invitation to go out to lunch from Leonie and her friend Norma, I decided to take advantage of the ultraviolet rays while I could. I dug into my dresser and pulled out the one skirt I had that still fit and wasn't over-fancy, threw on a tank top, and headed out. My legs seriously see the light of day maybe once or twice a year, so I was hoping today to give them a little color by sitting in the sun and just leaving them exposed.
Surely, one or two of you out there are gasping in shock: exposed to the sun? without a drop of sunblock? What about The Cancer?! To these people, I have this response: perhaps, if I were a regular sun-worshiper and actually lived in a city that got more than 14 days of great sun a year, I'd be worried, too. But the fact of the matter is, I live in San Francisco. I stay indoors most days, getting at most 30 minutes to an hour a day of daylight exposure ... and most of that fully-clothed. Most sunscreen makes me break out in a rash, and when I burn fortunately it fades right into a nice tan instead of going straight back to white. So where's the real incentive to wear sunblock? I'd far rather get a good natural dose of vitamin D, suffer with a burn for 24 hours, than remain pasty-white and/or itch for over a week. It's a real no-brainer. I can buy a fancy hypoallergenic sunblock when I start seeing the wrinkles. Or start actually going outdoors for longer periods of time.
Lunch was at Mojo Bicycle Café, up in the Western Addition. And while the concept of the place is kind of San Francisco hippie-biker-dippie, they actually make an awesome sandwich (I had "The Bird" ... and it was the first time in a long while that I've actually been blown away by a sandwich), have a nice front patio space and a gorgeous backyard space. We spent almost 3 hours lounging around, eating, drinking, chatting, before it was time to go, and my legs were stretched out to best catch the sunlight the entire time.
Unfortunately, I think they're just as white as when I started. Whereas my arms and shoulders ... slightly red over a tan that will hopefully be fabulous by tomorrow or Monday.
Stupid legs.
Tomorrow I have a "date" to watch the Sharks game at Kilowatt (haven't been there in over a year, I think). It's game two of the second round of the playoffs, and they're up against the Detroit Red Wings. Game one was a nail-biter, and I'm really excited about game two. I'm trying to not be as excited about the date, so I don't end up disappointed. This is my break back into "the scene". If it goes well, I may write about it. If it goes horribly, I'll definitely blog about it. Because I know that's the kind of adventure you guys are here for.
(And don't worry: we're doing coffee beforehand so that his first impression of me isn't all belligerence and yelling at TV screens. I'm not that naïve.)
5/2 ETA: Never mind on two accounts: My leg (note the singular) did get some color -- a big ol' strip of red down my calf. And the date's canceled on account of sick. Fun.
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