Burnina-

Remember the incredibly stupid person who went snorkeling without applying sunscreen to her upper back? I do! This is just a brief chronology of the horror that followed. If you are avoiding spoilers while waiting for The Desolation of Smaug to come out later this year, or don't like seeing enormous sheets of flesh disconnected from their original owners, you may want to pass on this post.

 Here is my shoulder, the day after the Great Burning. That strap is usually the color of me, or at least close. You can see some of my more usual color over to the right, where I was witlessly protected by my swim suit from the righteous wrath of the sun. (What was I thinking, leaving my northerly haunts to impudently - IMPUDENTLY - swan about the tropics? The nerve!)

On the left is one of the many swatches of self that came off in Korea. What you see on the right is my thumb inserted between the burnt layer and the layer of somewhat-better skin, first step in harvesting what you see to the left. Yup.

 Here is a photo of Sherman's March to the Sea. Oh wait, no, that's my shoulder blade. This was about a week after the burn first happened.

Eventually, at about the end of our time in Korea, I got to this stage: still discolored, but no longer sloughing skin like a snake.


At present, from a decently far off vantage point, my back just looks tan. Closer up, you can see a weird splotchiness to it, with that bumpiness you can see in the photo just above. I wear my basketball-textured cloak as a reminder of my shame, and the importance - the imperitance! - of applying sunscreen EVERYWHERE.