I was checking out the photos from this weekend and man oh man I am PALE.
This pic is actually cute. But dang. My face. Is WHITE.
I have to remind myself that, actually, this represents a conscious choice. Because I used to like to be tannish. I lounged in the sun. I felt pleased when my skin browned.
Then in college I started wearing sunscreen on my face every day because that LA sun is a scorcher and I could get sunburned just by walking around campus between classes. And then both my dad and sister had to get bits of skin cancer removed from their faces. And I have tattoos and I don't want to end up looking wizened and leathery and I've already had to have numerous moles removed, so I pretty much have no business spending excessive amounts of time in the sun.
I mean, don't get me wrong. I still enjoy hot weather and wearing little summery dresses and skimpy bathing suits. And I definitely still do my fair share of outdoor activities. And I'm always cold and man oh man there is NOTHING like the feeling of the warm sun on your skin. But, sigh, I'm much more careful now. And I accept my paleness.
My deficit of skin pigmentation.
My ghostiness. My wannity. My pallidosity. My achromaticallity. My milkishness.
My alabastarity.