Slightly overcooked

The Texan, the dog, and I went to our usual beach north of Corpus Christi on Saturday. I have been antsy to go lately, largely because The Texan (who is a student) is on his summer break and spending what feels like a tauntingly large number of hours at a friend's pool. This would be my chance to sit in the sun.

As this was my first beach trip this year, I made a special effort to constantly reapply sunblock. I was rewarded with an absolutely wicked sunburn, to the point where I had to switch into soft, seamless clothing when I got home Saturday night. This is beyond irritating, and alas completely my fault. Despite being in my early- okay, FINE, mid-30s, and having literally decades of experience of applying sunblock, I still cannot manage to find that happy combination of exposure and sun lotion that will allow me to be some color between fishbelly white and an uncomfortably vivid red sunburn.

To boot, I did absolutely everything possible wrong. Too-old sunblock? Check. Out between 10AM and 3PM, the peak hours? Check. Spraying sunblock in a windy environment and not making sure that it had dried before going in the water? Double check. It was as if it were Do The Opposite of What Common Sense and Your Dermatologist Tells You Day.

The only silver lining was that I met up with some friends at brunch yesterday and one of them arrived with a lovely palette of red all over her upper body. Her complaint? Decades of experience and yet she still cannot reliably put sunblock on. I am not alone.