I got my first sunburn of the year this weekend. Probably my first one since last year’s, and last year’s was the first one since the year before that. What I’m saying is that I hardly ever get sunburned, but also I spend like $50 a year on sunscreen and look like a more squat version of Slenderman (minus the murder cult, obviously) so I guess it evens out.
The translucence is genetic, an expected trait from a blonde and a redhead, both of whom got way more than one sunburn per year and as a result have both had skin cancers cut out of their faces (ahem, they also NEVER WEAR SUNSCREEN UNLESS I MAKE THEM, THOSE IDIOTS). I’m sure our genes had a fighting chance in the forests and bogs of Northern Europe and they still serve me well during the fall, winter and spring here, but anytime there’s sun, my genes go into fighting mode. Which, let’s be real, is more like “OH SHIT” mode.
My sister is having another kid this fall, and I guess there’s some debate on whether she’ll have another ginger kid (my nephew looks almost exactly like me, because like me, the poor kid has redheads on both sides of his family) or, as she predicts, a dark-haired child. She had black hair when she was born, and although it eventually came in regular brown, if it were not for her personality being a carbon copy of my father’s, I would suspect that the mailman had something to do with it.
Sunburn aside, if you’re the type of person who has trouble appreciating the nicer things in life – and I said the nicer things, not the finer things, because lord knows if you live in Seattle then you can’t fucking afford the finer things – you should really consider moving to Seattle. Our summer is the most beautiful, glorious, appreciable season in the country, and exactly the thing that makes so many of us stay even though the rainy season lasts from October through mid-May and during that time you pretty much want to drink yourself to death to escape the drudgery of it all.
But summer. Summer in Seattle is so gorgeous you’ll want to rip your eyes right out of your head because you don’t believe they’re telling you the truth. Summer in Seattle makes everyone want to strip off their clothes and go tearing through the parks and down to the beaches and soak up all that lovely, lively vitamin D. Summer in Seattle is worth waiting for, and why I never ever want to leave for vacation from June until September.
Summer in Seattle is perfect enough, but when you add things like a place you like that doesn’t grow mold and make you sick, a neighborhood not crawling with bums and bros, and nearby coffee shops, pet stores, pharmacies, and other local businesses where people are nice to you not because a corporate giant is telling them to but because that’s how you treat your neighbors, it’s just the kind of thing to make you look up from another bout of self-pitying tears and say “Hey, asshole, quit being a loser and keep your chin up. And go outside, will ya, you’re bummin’ me out.”