"A stupidity that belies your 28 years"
That's how someone described my immense, heinous sunburn this weekend. Seriously, Sunday I was like a damn mummy, unable to bend my legs because the skin was too tight. I had constant chills, my body's way of attempting to cool itself down. And of course, when you get goose bumps on sunburned skin, well, its quite comical.
Ordinarily, it would be foolish merely to be outside looking directly into the sun during the hottest part of the day for four hours with no sunscreen. Ordinarily. But even moreso when you had a possibly-cancerous mole removed two summers ago. Turned out not to be, but still, sorta frightening nonetheless. Plus now I have a nice scar on my back from where they cut it out. Which is kinda cool.
It takes a lot for me to burn. My complexion is pretty dark to begin with, so regular exposure does nothing to me but make it darker. But this was just dumb.
I was sitting inside, watching the first inning on the Twins game, when I decided it was too nice to be inside. So I grabbed the radio, a beer and the latest issue of Rolling Stone and headed to the deck. Its the 1000th issue, filled with backstories of famous covers past, and the early days of the magazine, and other things that are pretty engrossing. Anyway, before I knew it three and a half hours had passed. The game was over and the postgame was wrapping up. I went inside.
An hour later, I started to feel abnormally warm. I went and looked in the mirror.
Goo! I was all red. Face, not so much, as I've gotten a fair amount of sun so far this spring and was already getting tan. But my legs...oh, my legs. Within two hours, they would be a nice hot crimson, like two big red hots attached to my torso.
Hobbling around because your legs will not bend properly is not fun. I really should have gone out and bought some Calamine lotion, or something with aloe, but alas, I didn't want to go drive anywhere. I'm too tough to use that lotion crap anyway. Remember, I'm the guy who when he broke his nose and had stitches on his face, didn't fill the prescription for cream because the prospect of scars on the face actually sounded cool, not something you'd want to prevent. Pain don't faze me.
So I just sat on the air conditioner vent, letting the cool air keep me from flipping out all the time like a Ninja.
When I was in high school years and years ago, I had a really bad sunburn. Really, really bad. I was 17 and in Florida on vacation, and spent 20 minutes on the beach in swimtrunks at midday with no sunblock. I was redder than a crimson lobster. I peeled and lost two layers of skin over the next couple of weeks. It was hell.
Also at that time, my mom managed a tanning salon. I used to go three or four times a week, because it was free. Every girl I dated got a similar deal. Can you even comprehend the kind of currency that is? Like BBA, man. BBA. Crazy amounts. Every time I'd break up with some girl, another would come by and wonder what I was doing that weekend...Maybe because I was awesome, maybe cos they were using me for free tanning, knowing that after a couple months, they were in. All I know is, when the ladies approach you, instead of the other way around, its as they say in Boston, wicked awesome. Of course, it ruins Cliff's theory from Episode 13 of his podcast, but who cares?
So anyway, since any physical contact with my legs or arms is going to be excruciating, I might try sleeping standing up. I'll let you know how that goes.
MONDAY LUNCHTIME UPDATE:
The sleeping standing up thing totally didn't work. Eventually I ended up on the floor, so I slumped into bed, where I toughed it out.
Wearing bright orange to not only not hide the burn, but to accentuate it, is hilarious. You can't hide a burn like this, so you might as well mine it for all its worth. You bet.
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