Ohhhhhhhhh.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Whhhhhhhhooooooaaaaaaaaaaaa.
BRAIN FREEEEEEEEEEZEEEEEE!!!!!
So, I'm slurping on a Blue Hawaii shaved ice treat. It tastes the way really good tanning oil smells, all coconut-ey and sweet and yummy. It's so cold, I keep going into brain freeze and yelling and flailing around a bit, then returning to my regularly scheduled activity of stuffing my face with ice. It's a hard life, I tell ya.
And speaking of tanning oil. I want some really expensive tanning oil. I want to be brown and glorious like the girls walking the street on the island. I keep going to stores where they sell tanning oil then I hit an existential crisis. First, the price is prohibitive ( I can be cheap about the funniest things). Then, I really hit the snag - do I REALLY need tanning oil? This is like arguing with myself over surgery, as though the problem will resolve itself somehow. Yes, i need tanning oil. I am melanin-challenged, i don't tan so much as burn into a burnt orange color that falls off revealing pink tender new skin. I need tanning oil.
But then I get all conflicted, like WHY do I need tanning oil? Do I really want to be that brown, sure it looks fantastic on everyone else, but what if I'm the exception? And what if I don't get that brown, what if it's like throwing a pat of butter on myself and basting in a broiler, faster advance of sunburn, no sexy tan. And finally, how redundant is it for a person of color to suntan? Is that not mildly hypocritical? I keep thinking of a poem, maybe by Lucille Clifton, but possibly someone else, talking about black people tanning in an effort to be more accepted and assimilated by white people in America. It always strikes me as terribly ironic and twisted and my politics get convoluted, then I get a headache, take one last sniff of the suntan oil and walk away slowly. I throw back some folorn looks as a I walk away too.
I guess I need the suntan oil. And I saw a sea turtle today. It was maybe 20 feet away from me, in the water, just doing its sea turtle thing. Mostly floating, flapping about a bit, floating some more, taking in some air, going back under water, floating, floating, floating. it was HUGE. It was beautiful and peaceful and I wished it well. It's a dangerous world out there for turtles, what with turtle soup being a cross-cultural favorite. And YES, turtle soup was the second thing I thought about after thinking "Crush!" from Finding Nemo.
G'day Mates!
