Oh, burrrrrrn!

My neighborhood pool opened this weekend. This is something I've been looking forward to since we moved in just over 6 months ago. Nothing says summer like laying out by a pool. I patiently read the community newsletter every month just waiting for them to announce when the pool would open. Finally, that fated day arrived a few weeks ago, along with the hours and rules for the pool. At the condo we lived in prior to buying our home, the pool was swim at your own risk and open all the time. It was small but glorious. I could get there around 9:00 am on a weekend and be gone before any screaming kids arrived. Heaven. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on whom you ask), our current community is chock full of children. Now, a portion of my HOA fees pays multiple life guards (all very young looking teenagers, mind you) and the pool has hours. Terrible hours. It doesn't open until 11:00 am and it closes at 9:00 pm at night. Horror! No peaceful early morning hours. No refreshing late night swimming, the only time I could actually get John to go to the pool with me.

On Sunday afternoon, I ventured to this new pool for the very first time as it had opened only the day before. I had to circle for awhile before I spotted an empty lounge chair. It was packed. Already off to a bad start. I only stayed about 90 minutes while John was at the driving range. Not really wanting to walk home, I had him pick me up on the way through. Here is another affront to my pool-loving self, guests are $3.00. THREE DOLLARS! This means, my pool buddy - a friend from work who does not live in my neighborhood, has to dole out a trio of ones any time she wants to join me in the sun. What does all this complaining mean? You ask. Get over yourself, why don't you? Well, I'll tell you.

Today, I am in pain. Physical agony. I am fair-skinned. OK, let's not mince words. I am one pale ghosty. Parts of my skin have not seen the light of day since our cruise last September. That's a long time for a pasty girl. To be fair, I did apply sunscreen. When will I learn that I need something higher than SPF 15? My mom would be so disappointed in me. But, that's what I bought and that's what I used. I think I was thwarted by the pool's inconvenient hours. I was there from noon until 2:00 pm. Maybe you didn't know, but that is within the window of the sun's rays being at their peak. And I didn't re-apply in that time span. Shame on me. Had I been able to start my pool day at 9:00 am, I think I would have been well on my way to a gradual tan today.

I am quite accustomed to sunburns having had a number of extremely painful ones growing up and typically having about one medium to slightly bad one each year in my adulthood. I know how to handle them (ALOE!) but that doesn't really make it any easier. It certainly isn't scaring away the skin cancer cells. So, of course in Texas this weekend I'll be using my nephew's SPF55. And I might just purchase my own bottle when I return. For now, the backs of my sunburned thighs will just stick to the toilet seat (yes, that hurts as much as it sounds like it does). And my face will be hot. Somehow my arms, the one body part that is out for the world to see on a daily basis (save for my face, with is pink) didn't burn at all. AND! I applied the lotion to them first before I even left for the pool. Curses! Anyway, the point is, thanks to the pool's lousy hours, I am a lobster.