If you've been reading/following (although I don't actually chronicle my life in any particular order on this blog) you may remember that I was on my way to get some sun during these past few summery days (it was only yesterday's post, but I take into account your busy lives) and I also love Tuesdays. I decided to keep my quest for sun local today and went to Prospect Park
I am a borderline sun junkie. I choose to walk on the sunny side of the street. Very few of my summer clothes have sleeves. I like to feel the sun on my skin. I woke up this morning with the intent that I would go to the park, read my magazines and sit in the sun. I had to even up the tan I got this weekend from walking around. The skin that lay under my straps betrayed me once I took off my clothes. And I'm beginning to believe I look better out of my clothes than in them. Maybe I just need a new wardrobe. I also had to get rid of the reverse raccoon eyes I got this weekend from my sunglasses.
As soon as I found a good spot on the grass, I spread out my sheet took off my sneakers and tank top and started reading. It was hot, but there was an unbelievable breeze today. My arms and shoulders got a few shades darker in no time, so I took down the straps of my sports bra turning it into a tube top. The lawn was littered with a few other sunbathers. I couldn't lie in the sun everyday. It can be uncomfortable and it burns (duh!) but just like when you put ice on an injury, you go through the few seconds or minutes of intense sensations, then it subsides. When I was done reading, I took off my top completely to make sure my tan would be even. Now before I hear any backlash, it is perfectly fine and legal for a woman to go topless in New York
My fellow breast owners, you know when you've been walking around all day in the heat; you get sweaty in between and under your breasts. It feels good to air them out, air dry your top and bra while you're at it. It's not practical for a woman to go topless while running around or playing volleyball or anything. Obviously, it's uncomfortable and not to mention the irreversible damage to Cooper's ligaments, but just to a lie in the grass, the sun beats your skin, the breeze cools you off... aaah...
My fellow breast owners, you know when you've been walking around all day in the heat; you get sweaty in between and under your breasts. It feels good to air them out, air dry your top and bra while you're at it. It's not practical for a woman to go topless while running around or playing volleyball or anything. Obviously, it's uncomfortable and not to mention the irreversible damage to Cooper's ligaments, but just to a lie in the grass, the sun beats your skin, the breeze cools you off... aaah...
So there I lay, singing songs to myself, eyes closed, nipples tickled by the breeze. I think I actually felt the Vitamin D particles improving my mood and my bones strengthening. After I was all sung out, I lay in Savasana, becoming very attune to the sounds of the birds and the bees, till the sun moved from my left eye to the center of my forehead. My stomach started to grumble. Water wasn't enough to quell the hunger. So unfortunately, it was time to go home. I still have minimal strap tan lines, but they're not as noticeable.
All that probably doesn't sound troublesome (re: post title), but here it comes; time for the reality check - Skin cancer. I am melanin-rich, but that doesn't mean I can't get skin cancer. Not to mention the gaping hole in the ozone that intensifies the UVA and UVB rays. Did I wear sunscreen? No. Just me and my shea butter. One of the other sunbathers was a gentleman of my complexion with dreadlocks, was there when I arrived. I could tell he was there long before that point, stripped down to his boxers, skin glistening (no, this doesn't turn into one of my erotic stories; we just looked at each other, repeatedly, for the few hours we were there). I wonder if he wore sunscreen. Or maybe he was out there for the same reasons as I; the heat, sun, breeze, an even tan. Was he convinced that he was walking around with a shield from the harmful rays in the form of his complexion? Yeah, I've been lulled into a false sense of security. I consider breast cancer, ovarian cancer but not so much the skin cancer. I have to change that, considering that my lust for the sun isn't going to change. Apparently I get this sun lust from my maternal grandmother. I will be picnicking, topless sunbathing and dancing (Central Park drum circle) all summer long. You're welcome to join me.
All that probably doesn't sound troublesome (re: post title), but here it comes; time for the reality check - Skin cancer. I am melanin-rich, but that doesn't mean I can't get skin cancer. Not to mention the gaping hole in the ozone that intensifies the UVA and UVB rays. Did I wear sunscreen? No. Just me and my shea butter. One of the other sunbathers was a gentleman of my complexion with dreadlocks, was there when I arrived. I could tell he was there long before that point, stripped down to his boxers, skin glistening (no, this doesn't turn into one of my erotic stories; we just looked at each other, repeatedly, for the few hours we were there). I wonder if he wore sunscreen. Or maybe he was out there for the same reasons as I; the heat, sun, breeze, an even tan. Was he convinced that he was walking around with a shield from the harmful rays in the form of his complexion? Yeah, I've been lulled into a false sense of security. I consider breast cancer, ovarian cancer but not so much the skin cancer. I have to change that, considering that my lust for the sun isn't going to change. Apparently I get this sun lust from my maternal grandmother. I will be picnicking, topless sunbathing and dancing (
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