You don’t know me.
I don’t mean that like
or even
I mean literally – or at least statistically speaking – you don’t know much about me at all. Sure, you’re aware that I write this blog, and so might infer I have some underlying mental instability that’s not being sufficiently addressed in therapy; you may even have assumed (quite correctly, I assure you!) that, as a blogger, I’m pitifully desperate for whatever passing facsimile of affection anonymous strangers can offer online.* Hopefully, at some point, you had a glance over at the “About Us” section and there you may have gathered a few more clues, noticed that I have a massive ego and am totally in love with the idiot I married, etc. You might, while you were there, have asked yourself, “Is she an albino or something?” and then wondered if that was racist or not-PC somehow and guiltily gone off to google what you’re supposed to call really pale people, at which point I’m guessing you totally forgot about me for six months or until I posted again, depending on when this happened.
For the record: yes, I’ve noticed that I’m really, really white. Yes, I’ve heard about tanning, and no, it’s not an option for me. Yes, even spray tanning. Which is fine, because I actually don’t mind being this pale (except when someone wants to take a flash photograph).
Like photographing a vampire
Or when people are casually hanging out outdoors for more than ten minutes and I’m under my giant hat and long sleeves and layers of sunscreen, standing just inside the door asking if we’re ready to come in yet. Knowing, the whole time, that nothing will save me, and I’m going to end up right back at the dermatologist’s office getting freckles frozen off.
This isn’t my hat. Mine is pink.
But! I still look damned good for my age, apparently, and assume that I won’t be getting wrinkled or leathery for many years yet. So, as I say, I’m not mad at my paleness… until a certain someone winds me up about it.
And, because I can already hear you salivating for an example, let me tell you about the jerkface thing he did the other morning when I was only just barely alive and trying to avoid getting out of bed:
HIM: (moving over slightly to block the window) I have to stand here if I’m going to talk to you.
ME: Tha-
HIM: Because otherwise, the sunlight bouncing off your skin blinds me.
ME: Asshole. (flips bird)
HIM: What?
ME: I thought you were doing it to spare my eyes!
HIM: Oh. Well… yeah, that too.
ME: Hmph.
HIM: But…
ME: So you were joking?
HIM: … No. You’re really pale, and if I move over (steps to the side) you go all reflective, like snow.
ME: (covers eyes, presents middle finger)
Which brings me to the legal update, disappointing confusing though it be: Horrible Mega Corp phoned JTL and admitted (gasp!) that they “goofed” on the dates he was allegedly AWOL. So. Problem solved right? Ehhhhhh… not exactly. They’re “conducting an investigation into how this could have happened” but also wanted to clarify a whole bunch of stuff (basically, where was Husband every minute of every other day of his employment, just in case there was secretly another legitimate reason to fire him). Also? It seems they’ve been sniffing around the insurance company that handled the disability leave, trying to get medical records without going through us.
Curious, as Alice says, and curiouser.
JTL is unamused. Also, this is what happens when I try thinking of him as “the lawyer, John” instead. See? Can’t win.
ME: Just so you know, the internet agrees with me: 51% of the company is a fair settlement.
HIM: At least then it would be woman-owned.
ME: And minority-owned!
HIM: …
ME: (smaller voice) Gingers are a minority.
HIM: (shakes head) Not a protected minority –
ME: We should be! We need protection – SPF 1000!
HIM: I don’t know why you need SPF 1000, you’re already reflective.
ME: !
HIM: (shrugs)
ME: … Not really, right? You were joking about that.
HIM: Mmmm… I mean, it was mostly when I came back to bed, and the light off your bare back was really bright
ME: Shut. Up. And. Fuck. Off.
Instagram can’t even with me.
* Absolutely true. I eat that shit up. Your “like” is enough to nourish me for hours and a comment keeps me going for days.
First – you’re awesome, never change! I’ve convinced several co-workers to read on the basis of NEMs alone.
Second – Being super white sucks sometimes, doesn’t it? Go from looking like snow straight to looking like you’ve been broiled, then right back to looking like snow (except now with all freckles and junk happening). I’ve had people joke that they want me as their partner playing cards because they can see the colours of what I have reflected in my skin.
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Take Notice, everyone: Victor is my new favorite. He totally gets me.
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Thanks! Needed that after a rough day at work.
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I always wanted to have a nice Tan. When I was a kid, I could be out in the sun for hours and only get a tiny amount of colour. Having a Tan has become easier as I get older. I still only like a small amount. I never understand why people would want to get so dark?
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Supposedly it looks “healthy?” Honestly, I don’t even think I’m all that pale when I look in a mirror, but then I see photos of me in a group and I’m like “when did you guys meet Powder?”
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Consider yourself nourished for a few more days. I have a Ginger son, so I know where you are coming from.
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Ginger children are a special blessing… when we’re not digging up the garden and blaming it on the dog.
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You are super funny. And sorry on the legal update :(.
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Aww, thank you 🙂
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I am a weird combination of auburn hair, freckles (not burned off but poo pooed at the dermatologists and loved by other people) and olive skin. No, seriously! I have a sister with pale skin and paler red hair than me, and my ginger nephew is a ghost but me? Nope…I have olive skin tones. Isn’t biology a wonder?
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My Puerto Rican grandmother had dark red hair and freckles to go with her olive skin, and all of her offspring took her coloring except for the hair. I’m the only one of the grandkids to take after her first husband… which explains a lot about our relationship, now that I think about it. Genetics!
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I am so glad that I found your blog today. You guys are brilliant!!
Did you ever see the Irish girl sunbathing on the beach meme?? “No, not her…the other one” one? I have a feeling it might make you smile.
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I have. Husband showed it to me.
“Hey honey? Someone took a photo of you on the beach and it’s all over the internet!”
Sigh.
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But you’re not Irish are you?
He got the correct skin tone but wrong nationality…
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Irish by blood, American by birth. (Which, I understand, is a uniquely American way to answer that question. We’re weird like that, sorry)
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Ha! It’s okay! I met a few Irish Americans so it all makes sense. Irish-ish.
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Ha! All your photos are already in Vivid mode.
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Basically! Though sometimes I do find that the camera on my phone has “autocorrected” all the color based on the assumption that a face cannot be that white, which then forces me to manually fix the white balance—always a disheartening experience.
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This is so my situation! I’m the palest in my family and I’m from a family of redheads… I’m not full-on redhead but more light reddish brown but whiter than Casper and totally get the flashbacks in photos too! I thought it was just me!
This post was absolutely brilliant btw! Loved it!
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I used to do makeup at my old haunt. One day we ran out of Clown White. I happened to have a spare pan of my foundation in my kit, and we used that to get by. The usual clown artist asked me later where I got it, he was so impressed with the quality and brightness; my foundation was a spot-on shade match, only nicer, for CLOWN FACE. I showed him where, and the cost, and we agreed it’s not worth it for regular clown use. But still, I took some crap for that little fact.
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