I am incredibly diligent when it comes to sunscreen. The Scottish, Irish, English and French side of my ancestry years ago claimed victory over the Jamaican, Native American and African side, and the prize is my relatively fair skin and tendency to burn very easily. I have my uber-Anglo father to thank for that. Anyway, I have learned to do everything right regarding sunscreen: I slather on a generous layer before leaving the safety of an enclosed building; I re-apply after about an hour and a half; I use spf 30. But I suppose I should say I do almost everything right. However diligent I am with my sunscreen, I am inept at its application.
To that end, vibrant patches of bright pink now grace my skin. A long streak along my left arm, a tiny bit just above my collarbone, a patch that fills the space between my breasts (that's the most attractive one, let me tell you). I'm armed with aloe for my post-sun skin care regimen, but I might want to get better at the sunscreen application thing. Or at least request assistance.
That tale shared... After three hours at the beach followed by an hour by the hotel pool and hot tubs this afternoon, I'm going to see Don Ho tonight. Just because I can. Did I mention I am going to cry huge alligator tears when I have to come home?