I’ve decided to try the dangerous feat of applying a self-tanner. I researched some options and chose the best one I could afford–a foam kind that immediately produces a color for a more even application. I also bought a sponge paintbrush (a tip I like for hands-free application) and have enlisted the help of a wary boyfriend for my backside. It’s a lot of terrain, but I’ve got faith in his endurance.

I know to shave, and exfoliate like a mad person beforehand, and to apply lotion at joints to avoid orange elbows and knees, and to not be drunk.

Fishing for advice I told a couple of girls I know I plan to take the self-tanner plunge. They all drew back their lips to reveal a pained expression. Then they each told me horror stories of permanent Cheeto hands, and streaks on faces, and how one girl used bleach on her skin to mask the effects of her failed attempt at self-tanning.

So, I guess this is a last minute solicitation for advice from those who have done it, caveats and war stories. Don’t hesitate to give it to me straight. Help me not fuck this up! (You shouldn’t try to convince me not to. I know it can look great, and I am a perfect candidate for some color on my skin. I’m beyond pasty white; I’m sort of clear.)

Have you seen those Wendy’s commercials that talk all about how they’ve copied McDonald’s, and are now offering milk or orange slices with their kid meals? Do you know that kid at the end with the curly hair under a ballcap and the prominent lisp that says, “Maybe they didn’t think you were capable of making an informed decision”?

I can’t stand that smarmy fucking kid with his grade school pretention and shit-eating grin. He makes me all violent inside. People who hire kids for commericals, you will rue the day if he is hired for even one more spot. Rue!, I say.