Sunburn

Taking advantage of a reading assignment for my American Jeremiad class, I spent the midday in Palmer Square reading Olivia Butler’s Parable of the Sower. I recommend the book, and hope to read the sequel, Parable of the Talents. All I’m going to say in review of the book is that it really hit on my experience growing up in the 90s. The main character, Lauren, tries to convince her community that they need to be prepared to survive in the wilderness at a moment’s notice, should impending disaster break upon them. Now, Lauren’s community is in far more immanent danger than I have ever been, so maybe I’m just crazy, but as a 10-12 year old child, I felt an urgent need to know how to live off the land, should everything about my post-industrial, globalized lifestyle fall apart. (P.S. I really may be crazy, because upon reading this novel I realized I still have this paranoia/desire). When I finished the novel and started to reflect on what I had dug out of my childhood, I realized that I had a nasty sunburn on my arms. Looking down at my legs, I found a very strange pattern of red triangles, created by the funky slits in my calf-length skirt. Sweet. First sunburn of the season. 

When I got home from my afternoon class, I headed straight for the aloe vera, but after that, I decided that  today was a pivotal day. The first sunburn of the season meant it was time to put away the winter sweaters and scarves, leggings and long underwear. After my last, long New Jersey winter, I found myself singing that song we often sing at the end of seminary chapel services … Aaamen, Aaamen, Aamen, Amen, Amen. 

(Can you see the sunburn?)