Instead of getting in the fetal position and rocking back and forth in a corner, I’ve decided to share with you all, dear readers, my deepest and darkest fears of getting spray tanned this Thursday.

Let’s get down to the reason why I’m actually allowing some stranger to paint my body in hopes that it makes me look tan. Well … I’m pale, really really pale. The older I get the less I give a shit about that fact though because I spent a good amount of my teenage years burning the crap out of my skin (wow I sound old) and now I’m worried about getting these crazy things called wrinkles … and that other crazy thing called cancer. Yeah, I said it. But when you have an event and or wedding, a nice little glow seals the whole deal, and by deal I mean makeup, hair, dress, accessories and beyond.

In the meantime as I wait for my appointment that is still a couple of days away … I find myself freaking out for numerous reasons.

1. I’m extremely nervous that I will be transformed into Snookie. Even though I’m going to over emphasize that all I want is a nice glow to take the edge off of my deathly looking pale skin, I’m in fear that they are going to make me look like I’ve been living in a tanning bed for the past six months. I. Will. Freak. Out. No fist pumping, no poofs, just a glow, dammit … a glow.

2. I’m extremely nervous that I will have some crazy reaction to the spray tan. Okay, perhaps this is the partial hypochondriac side of me speaking, but I have really bad luck with this kind of stuff. For example, before my senior prom I used that Nair-esque stuff … I forget what it was called, but it was foam you put on your legs and it just whipped away the hair (sick image, right?), leaving your legs smooth for days and days. So of course I used it thinking it was genius and ended up breaking out in ridiculously itchy hives. Could you imagine having a reaction to a spray tan!? I’m not sure if that is even possible, but I keep picturing myself as the Incredible Hulk, except not green … more like orangey-red covered in hives, having to take copious amounts of Benydryl to stay sane as I stand at the altar like a red, bumpy zombie freak. Hot, right? Uh … moving on …

3. I’m not really down with the whole let me get naked in front of a complete stranger as she paints my entire body so I look tan … thing. I’m not conservative in any sense of the word, but there is something weird to me about literally meeting someone and the next minute disrobing. I know, I know … these people are professionals and they see a million naked people a day, but it still makes me a bit uneasy. Standing there, in my birthday suit with a shower cap on and my arms all out and about … my God. Sure, I could wear a bra and panties that I don’t care about, but unfortunately I’m wearing a dress that leaves no room for tan lines, on the top at least … so therefore, I’m going to have to take it all off. Sigh. Perhaps I should do some shots before I go, yes? Yes, shots are a must.

4. I’m nervous it has a smell. Going to a tanning salon has a certain scent that to this day still makes me nauseous. It is like the scent of burnt skin and cancer … ick. So I’m curious to see if spray tanning has a scent. Could you imagine if they asked you what kind of spray tan fragrance you wanted, like at the dentist when they ask you what fluoride flavor you wanted for your treatment? As a child, I always chose the wacky flavors like marshmallow and watermelon for fluoride treatments when I KNEW I should have chosen mint like a normal person. Now anything watermelon flavored skeeves me out … serves me right I suppose. But I know if spray tanning had scents you could choose from, I would pick like the vanilla cupcake scent like an idiot instead of the beach, all-natural scent. What can I say … I like baked goods, mine as well smell like one.

5. Not being evenly sprayed is one of my worst fears. I’m going to do my best to exfoliate the best I can before going … but that still leaves room for error. There are some places I just can’t reach, okay. I’m worried my forehead will be orange and my cheeks will be a different color, while my chest has streaks and my shoulders are ghostly white still. AH. Dear God. I will be like the technicolor bridesmaid. They will call me “marble” as my nickname. I have nightmares of everyone pointing and laughing at me at the altar as I stand there like God damn multi-colored outcast. Okay maybe I don’t have actual nightmares but it is still quite unnerving.

So yeah, there is all is, friends, my tanning heart and soul on the table. Well, in all honesty, these are all legit things that could 100% happen okay … and they absolutely freaking terrify me. So why am I STILL doing it you ask? Well … because I can’t deal with how see through my skin is, and well … I’m ridiculously curious about all this jazz. Sure, curiosity may turn the cat orange in this case, but if anything it could be a funny experience, right? You know, getting naked in front of a stranger, have said stranger spraying foreign dye on my skin to make me look tan, potentially looking like an Oompa Loompa and or breaking out in hives … I mean mine as well be an episode straight out of Friends or something, right … well, perhaps a more dysfunctional version of Friends. My TV show would probably be on Showtime or something.

Oh the things we do to look glamorous.