Since moving up from the Lower 48, the New Girl in Alaska has discovered a true joy that she never knew before—that is, the joy of the tanning salon.
I know this is ridiculous. But the power of the sun, or anything that resembles the sun, beating down on you when there’s about 5 hours of light outside in January cannot be understated. There’s plenty of reasons to tan, right? It helped me get through my first winter in this crazy climate. Vitamin D is totally necessary. A little color prevents a bad sunburn. Even Sarah Palin has a tanning bed in her house, for goodness sakes.
But you can get addicted—I knew this was happening to me when the teenage girls working at the salon started complimenting me on how brown as was getting. These girls are typically the color of toasted nuts, the color you have when you return from an 8-week jaunt in the Caribbean. Not the color of a long winter in Alaska.
So I gave up the salon for a few months and returned to my normal milk-colored self—or as a reporter I know once described her untouched skin—the color of uncooked halibut. I’ve remained that way for much of the spring and early summer.
But I wanted to get a good base tan going before vacation so I hit the tanning booth again for the last several weeks. To brown up again. Like any addict, I just can’t go once. Vacation has come and gone now but I’m still tempted to return to the tanning salon—I keep thinking that I could get a little browner. Vitamin D is good for me right?
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