I am naturally blindingly white (possibly a vampire?) when exposed to direct sunlight. There is no golden hue waiting to come out after 3 hours in the sun… it’s just scarlet red, accompanied by massive pain/peeling/general discomfort. I get sun-poisoning easily and have weird skin reactions when sunscreen, saltwater and heat combine. (I’m really making myself sound sexy here, I bet you’re wondering how I make it down the street without being mauled by adoring men.)

Luckily for me, I realized this about myself after a hundred couple of debilitating minor sunburns in my teen years. I wised up and applied oodles of SPF 50, choosing to wear hats when outside for more than a few minutes.

All that being said, I have a vain streak (gasp! it’s true!) and really hate being an eye-sore in a bathing suit come summertime. So, to remedy that situation, I made an appointment for a spray tan. I’ve tried them in the past (with success) and felt that this would be a good move to make me look more sun-friendly for Memorial Day.

Aside from the awkwardness of having someone airbrush self-tanner on my scantily clad frame, I was excited to look like a bronzed bombshell this weekend. Enter Leila. My “tan specialist” who spoke minimal English, has a flawless, naturally Brazilian tan and was having trouble understanding “I don’t want it too dark!” We argued about whether or not my feet were streaky, whether she should spray extra on my toes (NO! PLEASE DON’T!) and what I was allowed to wear when we finished. (Note: I think that only pasty white people should be allowed to administer a spray tan.) I left the salon with what can only be described as tan-xiety.

Tan-xiety: (n.) (Tan-zahy-i-tee) The concern that your spray tan will develop streaky, orange or look too much like Lindsay Lohan on a bad day.

I immediately speed dialed my sister, who has experience in the spray tan world, for counseling. Her sage response? Cackling laughter and the wise thought that “Maybe you just cut out for a spray tan. If it doesn’t work out just wear a turtleneck to dinner.”

I suppose the worst that could happen is I end up best friends with my loofah and scrub my skin raw for a few days. But let’s cross our fingers for a more natural, Jennifer Aniston glow, shall we?

I needed a quiet moment tonight to reflect on a few things. Spring always brings changes and that holds true for me this year as in years past. When the weather shifts from cold to warm to flat-out-Georgia-HOT you know it is time for a moment of self evaluation and decision making. Sometimes it means you go out a little too hard. Sometimes it means you sit at home alone and think quietly. Sometimes you do both, back to back. That’s what the past two weekends have been for me. They have each been cathartic in their own right.

Last weekend was a whirlwind of amazing eating with Jessica & Maggie. We went to the Atlanta Food & Wine Festival on Thursday and Friday night and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Then on Saturday we partook in a little Mellow Mushroom and headed to Lakewood Amphitheater (now called Aaron’s) for a Saturday evening of Zac Brown Band and crazy people watching. Sunday was a lovely Mother’s Day filled with a delicious brunch, visits to the grandmothers and quality time with my favorite (and only) mother. It was a weekend of moving non-stop and I really needed it to blow off some steam.

This weekend, however, was much quieter. I spent Friday night on my couch watching Footloose (the original) with white wine and cookies. Saturday was spent by the pool with Jessica and we had a very casual and quiet dinner with Maggie at Coast. Bedtime was at 9:45pm and thoroughly enjoyed. After a lazy morning, I headed to Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta for the annual Butterfly Release. It raises money for the hospital garden where sick kids can spend a few peaceful moments in a very safe & beautiful outdoor place.

As I write this, I’m sitting on my balcony watching the sunlight dim to evening and enjoying the perfect weather. Sometimes you need a moment to pause and look around and take a deep breath. This is that moment for me. The upheaval and change happening in my life is nothing in comparison to what is happening for those children and I would do well to remember that as I navigate new waters.

So for tonight, I will sit on my balcony in the cool evening air. I will watch my dog observe with interest the happenings in the small houses below us. I will appreciate that I am safe and sound. I will be glad for my two very different weekends.

And I will know that for this moment, right now, that is enough.

There are some mornings when the process of showering, drying your hair, putting on make up and picking out an outfit seem overwhelming. Often they seem to happen on days when it is mandatory to do those things. This is one of those days. Sigh.

We moved back to Atlanta and into our apartment at the beginning of September. Sometime during that month, three of the lightbulbs in our bathroom burned out. How long did it take me to replace them? Until yesterday.

Seriously, Ali? You couldn’t unscrew three lightbulbs that you didn’t even need a ladder to change??

Ridiculous.