Current Annoyance: Sunless Tanners

After watching Dancing with the Stars this season, and participating in the spring show at Spotlight, I've been reintroduced the glorious world of sunless tanners. Sunless tanners are fantastic for people, like myself, who burn to a lobster-red crisp every time they go outside. Yet, feel uncomfortably pale during the summer months. Since fake-n-baking is just as bad as walking around in your backyard naked, the spray tan booths and tan-in-a-bottle products are godsends. Relatively foolproof. You get sprayed and you end up with this tropic tan in a matter of hours.

Except there are people like me who can NEVER figure this stuff out.

I bought a brand of tanner that was recommended to me during the show. The bottle said "no streaks" because it's essentially an airbrush (read: spray paint) can that lightly mists the tanner evenly with no rubbing in... no extra layers... nothing. Fine. Easy right?

Wrong.

I had white splotches on my arms and legs because the "all over airbrush tanner" apparently missed a few spots on my first try. So, naturally, I try to spot spray the slightly lighter spots and fail to add more tanner to the developing pale orange shade. The following morning, I have stripes. Yes, folks, I have orange freakin' stripes on my arms.

Hello! Oompa Loompa Zebra! Gah!

Y'know, give me some more rhinestone or glitter or something. I'll fall into that ballroom trend, no problem. Feathers and fringe. Sure! Spray tanning. Ugh! No, thank you. Not only do I fail at this completely, but I smell like a combo of fermented beer and coconuts. Yuck!

Show is a Success!

I survived Spring Show. Never in my life would I think that I'd be on a stage again with just one other person behind me. (Or next to me... or spinning me... or picking me off the ground in a lift.)

Dance wasn't always something that came naturally. I often remember being laughed at, or having someone avoid going on the dance floor with me, or being ignored or passed over in other performances. I'm not really sure what changed or if I was just going about it all wrong.

I am not a jazz or hip hop dancer. I can't flail enough to be contemporary. Definitely can't do cultural dances. Ballroom just sort of comes naturally. I know I can't always straighten my legs all the way, or keep my arms in all the right places quite yet. And I still like to back lead. But it's something I feel confident in performing. And doing. And pursuing.

Never in my life have I had so many people come up to me and tell me what a joy I am to watch. I've always kind of spent my life doing background work. Spent too many performances in the back of the formations. (And behind taller people.) To be in that spotlight, almost on my own, quite literally, is the biggest natural high there is. It's addictive. It's healthy. It's now a huge part of who I am.

I think I can now say that I'm a dancer. And it feels so awesome.