This weekend was Emily's bachelorette party at a condo at Cannon Beach. Here is a picture of me buzzed off my second Sex on the Beach Friday evening (cliche, yes, but it was a fucking bachelorette party), blissfully unaware of the hangover I would have the following day.
We spent Saturday at Short Sands so some of the girls could surf. I was too hungover to try and surf like the other girls (goddamned schnapps!!), so I laid out in the sun with a magazine on my face and clutching my jacket around me to keep the sand from blowing into my mouth, nose and ears. Check out the awesome sunburn I scored!
Unfortunately, it hadn't occurred to me to apply sunscreen to my legs or belly (in the narrow strip where my shirt rode up a little). I actually had come to the beach wearing pants and a long sleeve shirt. I mean, I grew up in Oregon and I know the coast weather pretty well. I was even wearing my boots, which I eventually took off so I could put my feet in the sand.
It hurts so bad that I can only take lukewarm showers, and the first ten minutes of my day are spent hobbling around as my burned skin stretches out to give beneath the muscles. I obviously can't shave, which is making matters worse, as I now have stubble poking its way out of my scorched follicles, and scratching the burn when my legs brush against each other.