30 Days of Thanksgiving: (11/18/11): Spray Tan Spectacular

So I don't know if I'm really thankful for this next bit, but I feel it bears sharing...albeit not too many of the details.

Well, I'll just jump right in, as I can't find an easy way to transition into this one.

Last night I got a spray tan -- well, an airbrush "tan" from Electric Beach. My intent was a quick Mystic, but the airbrush was just $5 more and I got suckered into the idea that it was better coverage and more equal, etc etc.

The difference is that instead of being administered by a machine, it's a girl that sprays you...and you're naked. Awesome, because if there's one thing my 180-lb body (yes, you read that right) enjoys being right now is naked, especially in front of people.

Why would I do such a thing:

Vanity?

Masocism?

Temporary Insanity?

D - all of the above? Hmmmm, most likely.

I joked that I wanted to get a spray tan before the baby came (and a pedicure, and a little waxing done)...part of it was for Saturday Date night, but I think another part of it was to 'feel pretty' in Labor & Delivery.... it doesn't really make sense, unless of course you take into account that with my last child I ended up looking like this:

So yes, I'd say it's fair I'd like to avoid looking (and feeling) like that again.

So let me just give you the round-up of the high points of last night's tanning excursion, and I'll reiterate:

Giant 180 pound pregnant female naked in a rom with bright lights...

The girl/administrator instructs me to put barrier cream (lotion like substance) on my feet and hands..."What about elbows?" I ask. "Oh only if they're really dry." She responds. Lady, I'm pregnant. I think to myself. My body is like the mojave desert.

So the barrier cream...I'm at the point where "slip on" shoes are about my only option, and bending over is not really in the cards right now... and trying to balance on one leg to lotion my feet was about as accessible as my size 6 jeans currently being held in storage in my basement, with no real anticipated date of retrieval.

Then they have you stand on this pedestal-like stage, to emphasize EVERYTHING... the good and the bad (there's only bad at this point).

One of my faves was the sweet girl saying: "I hope when I'm pregnant I have a giant belly like you." Awesome.

I had no choice but to give into the ridiculousness of it all, and so I asked her if she wanted to give me a six pack.

She didn't.

Let's have a safe -- and pretty-- birthing my friends.