Wearing my shorts tan proudly.

As you may know, I am headed to Hawaii next week for vacation.

Were one of my friends not up for a role in the next Twilight movie, there would be three of us going. Alas, she made the final rounds of auditions, and thus I fear we will not have her in our company. Either way though, it is sure to be a good time…

Except for one thing. My shorts tan, still lingering majestically from last summer. Minus the old lady moles, it is not unlike this.

The contrast between the lasting once-burn-now-tan found on my lower legs and the bright white on my upper legs is stark, to say the least. The line between the two is shockingly accurate, as if I were wearing white boxer briefs. I would like to say my shorts tan and I will be showing up to the beaches of Hawaii unabashed, but I have to admit…I’m slightly concerned about it.

The way the sun will reflect off my legs is sure to blind unsuspecting beach tourists and make children scream in terror as they attempt to cover their eyes. The wind might even stop blowing. The waves might stop waving. The palm trees might stop softly rustling and the coconuts might stop, um, producing milk.

But I just can’t bring myself to go tanning in a tanning bed first. Never have, probably never will.

Zinc oxide, here I come!