So I was having drinks with friends in the Financial District today. I came in from Brooklyn on this 88 degree day (not taking humidity into account) so I wore shorts.
And as I sat there at a bar, relaxing with a pal, outdoors yet enclosed, I came toq grips with am ugly reality:
I NEED COLOR.
Though my grandparents were from Italy, I am very much not a stereotypical olive-skinned person of Italian heritage.
Also, it’s Skirt Season so yes I’ve been taking on the sites of the lovely ladies’ lovely tanned legs parading around for all to enjoy.
Then… ugh. Come on, GRex… you’re not doing your part.
And I’m still unemployed. As long as that’s still going on, I really have no excuse for being pasty.
I’m lucky that we’re all the same shade when the lights dim or go out. Mona’s spending the night on Saturday.
Still… Get that handled.
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