To celebrate my oldest best friend in the world’s birthday this weekend, I decided I wanted to look extra snazzy. Due to the fact that I am essentially translucent, a large part my party preparation included a hefty application of self-tanner. So on my thrilling Friday evening between the washing and drying cycle of my laundry I busted out my newly procured self-tanning lotion. I figured an hour would be enough time for me to acquire the desired level of bronzness so I put on some trashy entertainment TV and got to work.
It seemed easy enough. The lotion was tinted so I could see exactly what I was doing to avoid streaking and the bottle did mention that it wouldn’t stain my clothes post application. “Perfect!” I thought to myself . It seemed foolproof. “What kind of a self tanning novice could screw this up?: It was just what I needed in order to gain a hue darker that white chalk. Minutes later I was shimmery and bronzed just like a Greek Goddess in my professional opinion. The bottle didn’t mention anything about drying time so I preemptively waited about a half an hour for good measure and merrily proceeded along with my evening.
I fell asleep in my newly cleaned apartment with dreams of a gloriously tanned future. So imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning amidst an orange sticky mess. Slowly I opened one eye to notice a giant orange splotch to my right. In horror I tore off my sheets only to notice orange streaks down the entire length of my body. Orange splotches covered my innocently by standing stuffed rabbit. I jumped up in a panic. Orange prints blanketed nearly every surface of my apartment, as I made my way to the bathroom frantically to gaze at my carrot hued face. The sexy glow I was seeking has gone to the wayside and I now more closely resemble my orange striped cat. I am hoping to be able to bleach and exfoliate away this mess but in the event this is not possible, I am sorry Andre! Happy Birthday!
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