Love The Skin You're In

For my final paper in one of my grad school classes this semester, we basically have to choose a negative Human Behavior, look at it through the lens of one of several theories, and think of ways to target changing that behavior with a public relations campaign.

(Incidentally, the guy from the Boat Ride story here suggested I go with "Fear of Commitment"... I'm going to pretend that wasn't a direct jab. Ahem.)

I chose Tanning Bed Use. And while I don't use tanning beds now, I used to in High School (come on! I was on the dance team for BASKETBALL season - AKA - the winter. Short skirts + white legs = no prom date, people.) And I still shamefully lay out in natural sunlight and participate in outdoor activities without wearing sunscreen.

So perhaps I'll learn to convince myself otherwise.

Anyway, I told you here about the mole I had removed. But I didn't tell you the extremely embarrassing appointments before that.

There were two. One was a year or so before, when I went for a Mole Patrol appointment and discovered much to my dismay that not only would the dermatologist be conducting my check-up, but - oh look! there are STUDENTS too! And they will ALSO be peering intently at EVERY INCH of my NAKED BODY looking for anything suspicious in the way of moles. (and I now realize I sound like I'm covered in moles - I'm not. I actually hardly have any - I'm covered in freckles! (my arms anyway) See? Much less hideous! Freckles are angel kisses, or so my aunt told me when I was a child to make me feel better...) So I don't really have that much to have checked but I'm paranoid and once I got health insurance, I started getting annual check ups for EVERYTHING! Just because I could!

So, having a guy around my age peer all over my body (and given my lovely internal homing device, this is probably someone I'll most definitely run into while out socially in Georgetown some Saturday night) was slightly uncomfortable.

BUT NOT AS UNCOMFORTABLE AS THE NEXT YEAR. When I went to a DIFFERENT doctor - the one who removed a mole. When I first went to her, she asked me what all I wanted to discuss. And I told her I just wanted a check-up to make sure I hadn't given myself skin cancer. I also asked her opinions on good body washes because I work out fairly regularly and want to take care of my skin after sweating through hour-long torture sessions spin classes. Well, she must've jotted something down because of what happened next.

She tells me she wants to do a biopsy of a mole and so I have to come back. And when I go back, I meet: Her Assistant. A guy who looks kind of like a dark-haired Seth Rogan but acts like Napolean Dynamite.

Greeeeat Bedside Manner, let me tell ya.

So I'm ALONE with this guy in a tiny room with the door closed and he blurts out something like "so you're having bad skin problems?"

Me, southern-belle-horrified-- "NO I AM NOT!" humph. "I'm having a mole removed!"

Awkward silence. And I'm already nervous due to said mole.

Him again: "So...you work out a lot, huh?"

Me, shutting my eyes in disbelief at this attempt at SMALL TALK, based on whatever is apparently on my chart from the Body Wash discussion: "Um, sure."

I pretend to check my email on my phone.

Him again: "Yeah, I try to work out but I need to get more regular...."

Me: Aaaand we're done here buddy.

I don't even remember what I said, probably just "mmm..." and stopped looking at him. I think he attempted a couple more times at awkward conversation and he finally left, thankfully.

After that, having something burned off my skin was a breeze.

Perhaps that scenario should be part of my hypothetical campaign: Stop Tanning - or you'll have to be alone in a room with THAT guy...