Imagine if you will a barren dirt filled, rock clustered backyard with a lone picnic table. A most desolate undesirable location, but it had hours of sun. I was a mere teenager seeking the ultimate summer tan. Practically born an albino minus the light eyes - mine are the most dazzling shade of hazel thank you very much. Daily I'd trudge down to the backyard with sun tan oil, book and boom box. I climbed up onto the rickity old picnic table and basked in the hot sun for 1 hour (that was all I could take). I did a half hour flip from front to back in hopes of turning my winter white skin into a deep dark island tan. Red is what I was. Red as a lobster, so not the color I was looking for. I blamed my English and Irish ancestors, why couldn't we be "black Irish" I wailed in despair. By the end of the summer I had tan lines - not really a tan but tanner than I had ever been. September came, school started and I was feeling pretty sun kissed when I heard from behind me "look how white her skin is." And there sat behind me the two "perfect" girls, (mean girls I might add) with their perfect summer tans. I cursed them under my breath like any 7th grade girl would, turned around, looked them in the eye and said "at least I am not a candidate for skin cancer." Hmmp!