The Fairly Tanned

In preparation of my roommate's wedding, I decided to put in some time to bronze my skin. Now I've been tanning at my gym for quite some time. This isn't a regular occurrence, but I'm familiar with the system; I come into the gym. I tell the person behind the counter that I'd like to tan. They look up my information and boom! I'm tanning. 
This day was not so ordinary. After telling the lady that I'd like to tan, she pulls out my tanning information and pauses. She starts to take quick glances between me and the waiver that I usually initial before stepping into the booth. "They started you this high? They shouldn't have done that!" You're probably wondering what that means. Well there's a box in the corner of the form that says Skin Type. My form said brown. This having not been a problem in the other dozen and one times I'd been tanning, I was completely shocked.  
She went on to say how whoever did this could get in trouble, even asking me who "CB" was (These were the initials of the worker). Ummmm, I don't know? There was no appeasing this lady. I admit to tuning out while the rant continued, feeling rather powerless in this situation. I'm snapped back into reality when she says, "you should have been started at Fair Skin." 

Woah! Fair? Come on...

[A little background: Fair is the lowest setting. Think of that vampire chick: Kristen Whatsherface]

Jumping to the defense of the previous worker, I explained that I was mixed. And by no means would anyone consider my skin to be naturally fair. Although apprehensive, she finally let me tan! 

The Binder of Women

Ever wonder which celebrity would play you in a movie? Feeling inspired by my numerous alleged doppelgangers, I've decided to catalog them. Additionally this would prove valuable information given the slim possibility that my life story is ever made into a major motion picture. So let's take a look! 

Page 1: My first doppelganger experience was American Idol contestant, Kimberley Locke. As a teenager, I was near offended at the thought of looking like an adult. 

Page 2: I won't forget about the parade of summer campers that also that I looked like one of the Cheetah Girls. I never did get clarification regarding which Cheetah Girl; so I guess I'll let you decide. 

Page 3: Ironically during my college years, this High School Musical star ruled my doppelganger charts. Even now, I'll get the occasional Vanessa Hudgens reference.

Page 4: The newest doppelganger to my binder is Alice Braga. This is according to the friendly checker at Trader Joe's. 

So there it is! My very own Binder of Women, err... Doppelgangers. Would Romney approve?  


If this were Twitter, I'd include #likeromney. 

The Barbecue

So there was this barbecue. Actually I didn't find out about it until after the event. That's right; this girl was not invited. I couldn't figure out why. 
It made no sense, especially because that annoying girl (let's call her Sara) was invited. My brain was nearing exhaustion, having churned through all the scenarios in which I could have accidentally offended my friend. I mean, come on. We don't even like Sara! [No offense, Sara. But you were a snob and what do you have against sharing your markers? Rude.] 

Finally, I just had to ask the question... Why wasn't I invited? 

"Sorry. I couldn't invite you because my grandparents are racist."

And that's when I became a vegetarian.




... Just Kidding. There were plenty of meat eating years after that.  

The Cheerios Commercial

My work arrival is a practically a set routine; I come in, put away my lunch, make an iced coffee, then I click my web browser to scroll through some MSN headlines. And because I am who I am, I like to take the daily poll. Today's poll focused on the recent mixed-race family in the Cheerios ad. 

[Link to YouTube page]

Cheerios announced that they will not be pulling the ad, despite the controversy. Apparently the YouTube comments were heated with a race debate before they disabled the comments. It's amazing that this is even a debate. Mixed families do exist! For starters, there's my family. Then I have to mention that this is a country where our president is the product of mixed-race parents. 
And last but not least, the Cheerios girl is adorable! Who cares what her parents look like? 

Bravo General Mills! 

The Winery

When you find yourself in a beautiful countryside filled with vines and fine wines, you (obviously) decide to indulge in the wines from the vines. In town for a wedding, my friends and I decided to take a winery tour. Why not? Our tour guide is an older petite lady with short gray hair. It's a fun tour, as she tells us all about their history and tales of the winery's pet cat. After the tour and tasting, we line up to purchase some of our favorite bottles for future consumption.
As I'm browsing the gift shop with some of my gal pals, the tour guide approaches me. It's small talk at first; and we thank her for the tour. The awkward smiling and nodding begins as she's just standing there. Just as I begin my mental panic to brainstorm a new conversation topic, she asks me if I'm Hawaiian. I giggle with my 'no' response, and she begins to tell us how she used to live there and how my complexion was so similar. I tell her how I've been asked that quite a bit, adding that it's a nice compliment.
[Insert more awkward smiling and nodding] Luckily one of my friends has a rescuing segue; she asks our tour guide about her time in Hawaii. This victory was short lived, as more awkward smiling and nodding fills the shop.
My mental panic returns. Can anyone else feel this tension? Why is she still standing here? Can I just tell her thanks again? Do I walk away? What is happening!?

Her glance turns to me once again, more puzzled than ever.... "Are you Samoan?"

To borrow the wise words from Sir Pain of T (also known as T-Pain), I'm just going to blame it on the alcohol.

Panties and Mayonnaise

I have a friend that hates the word panties; actually I have a few. I don't get it. But don't dare talk about the Victoria's Secret Panty Raid sale! Hopefully this conversation isn't happening when you have to ask a waitress to hold the mayonnaise. Because I have another friend that hates that word too. 

By simply uttering one of these words, it's like someone has placed an ice cube down their backs. Cringing and shivering as you're told not to say that word ever again. 

I'm willing to make the sacrifice to eliminate these words from my vocabulary. After all, I have a word that I hate too. I hate the n-word. It sends chills down my spine, and I feel compelled to tell you that I hate it. Dr. Seuss would probably say it like this;

I do not like it in the street.

I do not like it in the heat. 

I also don't like to eat meat. 

Would you like me to repeat?

I guess the moral of the story is that the world would be a better place without panties, mayonnaise and the n-word.