Sunfright.

I'm a total Nazi when it comes to protecting your skin. Which is ironic, because what makes me so passionate about good skin health, is exactly what would have made me a great Nazi. I have blonde hair, blue eyes, and exceedingly fair skin. So given I'm walking melanoma (as evidenced by the scar farm that is my back), I tend to get a little crazy with the sunscreen. Not only that, but I encourage others to do the same. Even when I see the slightest sun damage on a friend, I morph into Hannibal Lecturer and remind them of the importance of protecting ourselves from harmful UVA/UVB rays.

Which is why I can only cite temporary insanity as the reason I didn't wear ANY protection yesterday while kayaking. So today, I'm solid red - but only on the front. My face, my shoulders, my arms, my boobs, stomach and the front of my legs are charred. I feel positively radioactive - glowing, but not in a good way. I've got the whole bra-straps-cutting-into-my-shoulders-feeling-like-razor-blades thing going on. My legs singe every time i cross them. And thanks to my trusty Tazorac, I think I'm at the last layer of dermis on my face. I've also managed to burn it, despite actually putting on SPF 55, leaving a pile of ashes upon which new layers of skin will form. In a month, I'll look like that anti-smoking poster from school showing what you'd look like if the tar in your lungs actually covered your head.

Having a bad sunburn is almost like being hungover. It's that feeling where you wake up the next day in complete pain, completely pissed off at yourself because you knew better. Only being drunk on sunshine can't be cured with a bacon cheeseburger and Pedialyte.

Enhancing my current physical condition, is the cut and color I got this weekend. While a trip to the salon is normally a good thing, I chopped off most of my hair this time. I look far better with long hair, but was tired of the hassle. And as I live on the surface of the sun, I was also tired of the heat. So it was a very conscious decision, just not the most flattering one. It too, was only made worse by my trip on the lake, as my highlights got so light, my hair color now rivals Gwen Stefani. And as I stood in front of the mirror this morning - my charred half staring back at me - it occurred to me. I look like a Lego person. A Lego person with cotton for hair and fire for skin.

But I'm not a Nazi, so I've got that going for me.