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  • Kathryn Wright

Spraygate 2.0

Don't ever allow me to get a spray tan again.


Like...ever.


EVER.


Is Spray Tan Anonymous a thing?


People are in the PTA. Is there an STA?


...


Although...


I'm realizing that the fact that I'm blogging this to the internet...removes the whole "anonymous" factor.


Oops.


Let me clarify.


The girl I get my tans from, is a freaking goddess. I am SO PALE and she has never made me look orange...her tans are literal perfection. So this has nothing to do with her AT ALL.


But...my life is a current SHIT SHOW.


So.


...On the first spray tan I got, my hair decided to fall out THAT NIGHT...and when you are as pale as I am...and your hair falls out (aka exposing your scalp thats never been exposed to the sun that makes the color white look dark by comparison)......yeah.


On the second spray tan...IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING SUMMER...I was sitting outside with my best friend. And it started mother fucking RAINING.


IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING SUMMER.


ON THE DAY I GET MY SPRAY TAN.


Ahem. I repeat. ON THE DAY I GET MY SPRAY TAN IN THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER IT STARTS FUCKING RAINING.


I mean, I was thankfully able to dash inside. But..........irony.


Why am I blabbing about this? Why thank you for asking. Let me explain.


So the whole "chemo brain" is very applicable to me. I'm basically Dory from Finding Nemo.


Oh, did I tell you that I don't remember things? I'm basically Dory from Finding Nemo.


.............


Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming SWIMMING


*insert (dad joke?) laugh emoji here*


So I have my *ahem* ten year high school reunion tomorrow night.


10 year high school reunion.


TEN


YEAR


HIGH


SCHOOL


REUNION.


I mean...I shouldn't be complaining. Because if you're not getting older you're dead. Right? (That is...unless you're Jennifer Aniston. Because apparently, she doesn't age.) And seeing as how my life currently consists of basically fighting to stay alive...I probably shouldn't be complaining...because at least I made it to the 10 year post high school mark.


...But still.


HOW THE FUCK WAS MY HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION 10 YEARS AGO?!


And with this reunion coming up, I've literally been on the nostalgia train for weeks now.


It's weird.


I literally have these random memories that just pop into my head for no reason (well obviously there is a reason...but you get what I mean)...I mean, we're talking about things I haven't thought about in years and years and YEARS.


...And then I start crying for no reason.


Okay, there's obviously a reason, but yeah.


Okay. This is starting to get a little ramble-y. Let me get to my point.


So...like I said...10 year reunion tomorrow. (*internally screams again*).


So because I'm a sicky poo...and naturally pale...which makes me look even sicker...I decided to get another spray tan. Gotta look fab to show up everyone...right?


LOL.


...NOT.


Because based on the last several years and current circumstances, that ship has CLEARLY sailed and sunk...Game of Thrones style.


Or like the Titanic.


...I think Leo dramatically sinking in the water is a good euphemism for my life.


I just want to request Lana Del Rey, as opposed to Celine. Don't @ me.


So...spray tan. I exfoliated. I didn't use lotion (pre-tan). I did everything I was supposed to.


ONE PROBLEM.


I got tattoos 2 days before.


Yes...plural. And yes...I said the next time I got tattoos was going to be a representation of good news. The tattoos were a representation of the good news...that I got tattoos. Because at the moment, that's about all I've got. Literally.


Thing's aren't lookin too hot right now. So I decided to get cheer up tattoo's.


AKA brand myself as a nerd.


Nancy Drew, Harry Potter, and the Arwen Evenstar are currently co-existing on my arm.


Find yourself a bff that gets you a giftcard for tats for your birthday, because...I'M IN LOVE.


(Not with my best friend...with my tattoos. In case that was unclear. *insert laugh emoji*).


So. Every tattoo place does things kind of different, but there...after you're done, they put on the sticky tattoo tape.


It was irritating me, so I took OFF the sticky tattoo tape.

And then, decided to get a spray tan.


...To look "good" at the reunion.


Um. Yeah.


So this sticky tattoo tape is SO STICKY...that it basically removed lots of layers of skin...apparently.


Because, I wasn't wearing the tape when I got my tan.


I exfoliated (not the tats obviously...or maybe not obviously...but I didn't). I showered. I tanned.


And now...my "super cool" (aka nerdy) arms, are now beautifully spray tanned.


I am tan.


I am glowing.


I have a glow.


...


....


.....


.............


Aside from the 2" square surrounding every tattoo where I had the sticky tape.


WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK.


I plan on writing a strongly worded letter to whoever is controlling my karma...because...FML.


(Also, apparently you're not supposed to get a spray tan after you get tattoos, which I was strongly informed by my best friend, which then sent me into a panic attack.


...I'm dying. Fuck it.)


When I graduated high school, I was all "in 10 years...I'm going to be the best, I AM the best."


And now, tomorrow is our reunion.


And now...


Here we are.


I am a victim of rape. I am a victim of my own self sabotage. I have cancer. I haven't gone to law school. I don't have any kind of "career" to brag about.


But then when I think about it in those terms, I think about how much I've changed.


Because I don't self sabotage anymore.


I don't judge anymore.


OKAY. I do. But let me clarify.


I was talking about this with a friend the other day.


Cancer has given me this weird clarity. The juxtaposition of getting cancer, finally growing up, finally healing, finally being truly happy, and loving life...all while going through the scariest, worst time of your life...it just makes you see things differently.


So. Yes.


I still judge.


But on the things I just see morally wrong.


But the little things? IDGAF.


YOU DO YOU BOO.


Because it literally doesn't matter.


I was so fucking judgmental for so long, and thinking about that person that I used to be...I don't even recognize her.


Now...let’s be real. If you're an abusive asshole, mistreat your animals, or like Lena Dunham (ha)...I'm judging.


But there is so much catharsis in just not judging the little things.


That is a lesson that just took me longer to learn than it should have, but...I learned it.


And I'm all the better for it.


And truly, I am so damn excited for my reunion tomorrow night.


...spray tan disaster and all.





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