Danger

Well hello there. It's been a while.

I don't have very many bad habits. I don't smoke, I don't chew my nails, I don't curse like a trucker (although some of my previous posts may indicate otherwise), and in general, I'm a pretty healthy person. But I do have two little secret bad habits. Well one of them is not a secret- it's my devotion to this lovely addictive substance called chocolate. And the other is tanning. I know, I know... it's bad. I don't go often, but when I do go, I enjoy every single second of it. There is something about it that makes me so happy. I just love having 20 minutes of uninterrupted time, no cellphones, nothing. WARMTH. A little Vitamin D and a nice golden glow are my primary motivators though. But as I was crawling into the tanning bed on this gloomy June night, I notice the 12 inch warning sign on the side of it that read something scary about ultraviolet damage. The fine print was every scarier. I'm not sure how I had never noticed this alarming caution sign before. But it didn't seem to phase me, as the temptation of 20 minutes of relaxation, warmth, and soft golden skin far surprassed the threat of skin cancer.

To me, embarking on a new and exciting relationship is kind of like tanning. There is a definite risk associated with it. As I climb into the cancer bed, all I ever think about are all the amazing, incredible outcomes of the dangerous experience. Yes, there may be a little voice in the back of my head that's telling me that the harmful UV rays that I am voluntarily exposing myself to could potentially turn my pretty freckles and moles into disgusting pustules and lesions, and that my covetted clear, soft skin could turn into a leathery diseased disaster, but that voice is never loud enough to make me put my clothes on and haul ass out of Fabutan.

At the beginning of any new relationship there will always be those little voices of doubt or fear, there will always be risk, there will always be overwhelming feelings of vulnerability, and there will always be the potential for the whole thing to blow up in your face and turn into malignant Melanoma. However, the possibility and dream of having an amazing realtionship with an incredible human being (or having sexy golden glowing skin) always seems to overpower the risks.

My advice for tanning and for life:
Forget about the warning signs. Screw the caution announcements. F*ck the hazard alarms. Ignore those insecure little voices in your head and enjoy all the good stuff. And even if you do end up having to get cancerous moles surgically removed or have to go through months of emotional turmoil to heal a broken heart, remember all those little good things that made you climb into the cancer bed or jump onboard a new relationship in the first place.