Happy

Even before the media got to me, I remember enjoying most the times of the year that I was tan.  Before I knew who Jennifer Aniston was and before I'd seen thin, airbrushed, tan women on the covers of magazines.  Even back when scars from my bike wrecks and sponge-painted VBS t-shirts were cool, I knew--I just felt better tan.  Life just felt better.  Heck, possibly, life really IS better.

And now with all the research about sun being essential to your vitamin D levels and light therapy promoting emotional well being, all I can think is, "Wow, that was a lot of money to tell us something we all already knew."  Being tan is being happy.

So, here we are...

...happy.

ps--I know all about skin cancer.  We were in the sun for limited amounts of time with gobs of sunscreen all over us, in disgusting amount.  I'm the girl whose mom forced her to swim with a t-shirt over her bathing suit (and sunscreen slathered body) from 9 am to 4 pm.  And in junior high and high school, I'd get grounded if I got sunburned.  I know damage happens even with sunscreen, even without a sunburn,   yadda, yadda.  I'm just sayin'--for the first time in a long time, I had consistently elevated feelings of happiness.  It had to be the sun ('cause it sure was hot).  =)