Urban Cowgirl

I was just talking with the Editor Across the Aisle about how few surprises there in life.  The sex of your child (and no, it's not only a surprise if you wait -it's a damn shock whether you find out at twenty weeks or forty, folks), a really dramatic haircut, weigh-ins while dieting and...self-tanning.

I've discussed self-tanning several times before.  As I've perfected my technique, I've had shocking results less and less.  However, there are few surprises that bring forth as much trepidation for me as applying self-tanner before bed, donning my full-length pajama pants, then removing them in the morning to see what I've done to myself.

This morning, I noticed that while I did a decent job on my calves and knees (thank goodness, because this is really the only part most people will EVER SEE), I seem to have missed my inner thighs.  As a result, I now appear to be wearing chaps in some lighting.  I'm not sure how I feel about this.  On the one hand, it's not the worst mistake I could've made, but on the other hand, it smacks of either counter-culture or Western wear, neither of which have a prominent place in my wardrobe.

I often think I don't like surprises, but the very idea that I can get worked up about the outcome of my drugstore self-tanning seems to contradict my self-observation.  I also like getting unexpected mail, wondering what movie just arrived in my Netflix envelope and checking my e-mail now that I've started getting my comments to this blog that way.  Suddenly!  Strangers!  It's as exciting as when a new kid moved into my hometown, population 5,000.  Everyone wanted to date or be friends with the new kid, regardless of how weird or dorky they were, just because they were NEW NEW NEW.  They weren't in our preschool class!  They didn't remember when our pants split during the second-grade track meet!  They didn't know our awkward stage last for five years!  NEW!!!

Anyway.