June 16, 2006 by Amy

Bad Sun! Bad!

This afternoon I got a facial. The first facial I’ve had in years. I vaguely remembered how wonderful they were, but holy cow, it was great. I highly recommend it. My skin is so soft it feels like butta.

Am learning that I already have way too much sun damage, even though I was never a tanner. I never liked to just “lay out,” nor was I fond of tanning beds. Now doctors and estheticians recommend using a sunblock every single day, even under your makeup, because simply walking around outside is enough to cause major damage. Damage shows up in the form of wrinkles, lines, spots, uneven tone, and a host of other icky things that one doesn’t really want to broadcast on one’s face. So, even though I am a member of the “Pale & Proud” clan, it seems I will be even more vigilant in my quest to ward off UV rays.

I guess I look at tanning as something akin to smoking. You know it’s bad for you, so why do it? I’ve heard the argument that it’s better to have a “healthy glow” than to be pale. I disagree. I would much rather look at lovely, undamaged, blemish-free creamy skin than “glowing,” ruddy, wrinkled and crinkled, spotty skin.

I can only hope to teach my little Zozo to be just as cautious in the sun, because her skin is beautiful and she doesn’t need to damage it to look “pretty.” ‘Tis better to be healthy, in my book. Well, she’s already been christened “Spa Baby,” and I’m sure she’ll grow up loving facials and body treatments and the like, so hopefully she’ll be pale and proud like her mama.

Tonight we snarfled some dinner and took off shopping for Dad’s Day presents. Isn’t it great when you have no idea what you’re looking for but wind up finding cool gifts anyway? Back home in time to strap The Zo into her stroller and go for a quick walk around the neighborhood.

I love our neighborhood. I love how we can walk through and point out people’s homes that we know and like, instead of saying, “I wonder what crackhead lives there?” I love how everyone driving through waves and smiles. I love how there are kids playing out in the yards and gardens growing and people sitting on their patios just enjoying the evening. I love how at any time we might see our priest, Father P, the man who married us and baptized our child, riding by on his bicycle. It’s a regular Mayberry here.

At our old subdivision, I was regularly flipped off by rude teenagers, angry at them for driving at excessively high rates of speed, or calling the police to report yet more vandalism at our house. The final straw was when the house five doors up was busted for drugs and stolen guns. As far as I know, no one in our neighborhood is trafficking guns, drugs, or any other illegal items. I think the current “scandal” we’re dealing with is a tear-down at the corner of D and C. “Did you see how big it is? It’s a two-story!” “I heard there isn’t going to be any brick on it…it won’t fit in at all!” “She’s pregnant, you know, and she wants the house done by August!” Seriously, if that’s the biggest scandal here, I think we chose wisely when we purchased our home.

Well, M is making us peach and banana smoothies (mainly because our peaches and bananas are now overly ripe and bordering on mushy), and I have a fresh issue of Real Simple to dig into. Buenos noches! (which I believe means “good night” in Spanish, but don’t quote me on it)