Tomorrow Mother Nature FINALLY decided to throw in the winter towel and give us a little taste of spring. Thank God. Now I can literally burn my winter coat. We’ve had far too much quality time together … and it must be destroyed. But I digress.

In anticipation for the warmer weather, I was just brainstorming outfits to wear tomorrow … all of which are either dresses or skirts sans tights … and I feel like every time I imagine wearing said dress or skirt sans tights I find myself in this awareness commercial for pale skin.

“Are you pale? ::: pans to me sitting around a table with my friends who are all laughing and having a good time, but I’m too busy trying to cover up my legs underneath the table::: Do you feel like pants are your only option? :::me laying in bed depressed as I pull the covers of my pale legs::: Know you aren’t alone. Paleness happens to everyone. :::”The More You Know” star swipe:::

I’ve been pale my entire life, in fact getting tan is something I have to dedicate my life to in the summers … and ain’t nobody got time for that. And I’m not like a porcelain skin, Florence Welch pale either. I’m like pasty pale. I want to punt people who have flawless porcelain skin as a matter of fact. I’m half Irish with pasty, gross pale skin, and half damn Sicilian … SICILIAN … and don’t have a drop of gorgeous olive skin on me. HMPH. Damn you, genes. But this year I’m like EXTRA pale. Why? Well … a few years ago I decided I was done “tanning.” Maybe it was the stupid Jersey Shore show and all of those kids looking like they were a rough 40 years old because of sun exposure, maybe it’s the fact that wrinkles scare the shit out of me and I know I’m not going to be in my 20’s forev … I really don’t know. But I’m done with it.

I was the Irish girl in high school who would go out in the sun wearing no SPF or like SPF 4 because I so desperately wanted to be dark and end up getting so badly sunburned I almost had to go to the hospital. I went to tanning salons all throughout college to bring all the boys to the yard or something. And now … nothing. For the past two summers I’ve invested in SPF 30 and above, and I think last summer I went to the beach once.

So yes … I’m insanely pale, by choice. No … like uncomfortably pale. See through pale. If you ever were curious as to what my tibia looks like … you could probably get a sneak peek right now. But that doesn’t mean I can’t spray tan or use tanning creams, which I’m open to. Spray tans are expensive … so that really isn’t an option except for special occasions, and I still need to do my research on which tanning cream won’t make me look like a carrot. So this whole me having to expose my paleness to the world tomorrow has caught me ALL sorts of off guard.

My options are I either sweat it out, wear pants or tights as everyone frolics about town in cute spring dresses with exposed skin as I have a Little Mermaid moment singing “Apart of Your World” staring out my office window as I eat my feelings. Or I just embrace my paleness, be an asshole and every time someone makes a comment or makes fun of me for being so pale, throw a skin cancer statistic back in their face. Boom. Yeah … no I’m not that guy.

But I do have a little secret weapon called the maxi skirt, my friends. Hello lover. It is totally cheating the system and I loves it. I’ll be covered so no one can tell I resemble Casper the Friendly Ghost, yet still get to feel the beautiful spring breeze. Problem solved. In the meantime, I’ll be on the hunt to try and find some cream that will make me look like I’m not actually vitamin D deficient.