pale pale pale

I know I look weird with a tan, but maybe I look even weirder without one?
Every spring and summer I confront the same awkwardness; namely that everyone in the Midwest appears to go to tanning booths, and this is something I can't afford and wouldn't do for health reasons anyway. I never encountered this back home, partly because we were in a hot dry crackling desert and a lot of people can look like a 27 year old leather garbage bag without even trying very hard. And in Boston, where everyone constantly tries to persuade themselves they're in London, paleness doesn't matter at all. But for some reason in Chicago as soon as mid-March rolls around it's DEATH TO THE PALIES!! There are something like a half dozen tanning salons on my block, and they're all busy. What's more, either everyone except me went to Cozumel a couple of weeks ago or the seasonal tanning booth customers have come out in droves. I can understand the logic that no one will believe you're legit if you go on your lunch break in January and come back looking like you flew to Cyprus and back to get some sun. But come on! People seem to think that by magically getting brown and JLo-esque as soon as we get our first 55 degree day they will fool the detractors into thinking they came by it rightly. By 'rightly' I mean they slathered on sunscreen, wore a hat, and just happened to get a perfect even tan from minimal sun exposure just because they are so brimming with health and blushing vigorous youth that they can't hardly help it. Me, I have my wide-brimmed beach hat and my dark navy vintage bathing suit that perfectly sets off pale skin. I'm ready to go all fifties at the beach. If we ever get a day over 60.

So flirt class..

..was quite the fun-fun. Shannon and I had some scallops and salad and freebie wine, then hopped up to Edgewater to take a 'Flirting for Nerds' class last Tuesday night. It was held at a wondiferous sex store called Early to Bed. Which is a store that was opened by women a few years back because they were sick of getting skeeved out and sidelong-glanced and second-guessed when all they wanted was a safe, secure, fun place to explore sexuality.

Class was good..about an even split of guys and girls, although the guys were infinitely more outgoing and willing to participate. I don't really relate to names so much so I usually assign most people nicknames as soon as I meet them. For this class, the students included Carrot Top, the softball coach, Giuliani, Babs Marley, and others.

All in all, it was good, and we left class armed with props -- me with my Strand bookstore bag and red shoes, and Shannon with her personality and vibrating goodies newly acquired. We ventured to Andersonville to practice what we learned, and made quite the night of it. Shannon ended the night by bedding her flame, who joined us, and I used a blank business card to attempt my first pickup in a very very long time. I did in fact give my number out without being asked. And the point is not whether he will call. The point is that I gave my phone number out without being asked. Huge HUGE step for me. So all in all the night was a win.

More to come on the perils and promise of watching speed dating happen --