Certain Shades of Pink

The sun finally shown, the sky finally blue not gray, and my skin finally warm with heat felt this weekend melt.

I am also coming to realize that I am unsure why I ever wore pants in the summer if I was going to be outside. Trends, fads, and peer pressure, brought me to pants once. There was also another reason, but all the reasons are now gone. I show my legs, bright white and with thighs that rub together. I show my feet, no pedicures for this girl. I am not ashamed of skin, of dimpled fat, of myself. So, here I come.

Problem with it? Too bad, then don't look. Ah, how the tortures of childhood always stay with us. Always defensive. Always ready to fight.

So, anyway. Glad it's sunny, warm, and finally looking like summer. However, that date looms before me. Big NEON sign with July 17, 7-17, with 17s all over, with cancer all over it, with black touches of death all over it, pulses in my head.

So, perhaps I shall place suntan lotion on my skin in the shapes of 17's and stand out in the sun, tanning myself into cancer but whitening myself in a 17 montage. Perhaps not also.