Julio (or Johnny as he's affectionately known) and I
The scary thing about the scary tanning was that it worked. This picture was taken the day after I went tanning. In 12 minutes I got as dark as I usually do going out to the Thousand Islands (In Indonesia) for a weekend. I wouldn't recommend religious tanning though, if you want to keep looking young. There's also that little problem called cancer (just ask my Grandfather, who has monthly trips to the Dermatologist). Props to those of you who are OK with who you are, and how you look like.
Danie and
El Espantoso posing together for my documentation.
This adventure begins one sleepy Saturday afternoon, with my darling twin sister Danielle citing severe psychological trauma from the lack of sun (well, we do live in Seattle). Since the skies were overcast, sunning herself at a sun salon seemed like the next best logical choice. Guess who she wanted to drag along.
Now, I have never tanned in my life, and the idea of sitting in a hot glass coffin didn't sound too pleasant, but I went along for the ride anyway. Danie and I haven’t spent enough time together, and I figured it would be a good “quality bonding experience”. Not so much.
The monstrosity posted above is a top-of-the-line Italian tanning station, apparently the black diamonds of the tanning line, instead of the bunny trail I was anticipating. It closes automatically, whirrs and blinks, and has some computer-animated voice greet you and asks you to relax. It got extremely hot in their, and sweating on glass isn’t the most comfortable experience. Additionally, the light emitted by the contraption was a neon-purple…
That was the first, and most likely the last experience I will have in a tanning salon. Besides, I’m ok in my own skin, even though I inherited more of my father’s whiteness than I bargained for.
I have realized that many important events in my life have occured privious to this blog's creation. I will try to update everyone on these events by backtracking a little bit.
Don't be surprized if I don't go in order, life it seems is not quite linear to me.
Riani
For those of you who don't know, I'm a senior at the University of Washington in Seattle, graduating from the Jackson School of International Studies. As seniors, we are all required to take a course called Taskforce. With 15 other peers, policy recommendations on particular subject for the US government or international institutions are researched and written. (I did policy recommendations for the World Bank.) The 300-500 page report is then sent to an expert (suspiciously from around the Seattle area on many accounts) who then administers a defense.
With such hoop-lah, you would think that Taskforce was awesome. Talking to many though, it was not a "course to remember". Our Prof barely made it to class, failed to read our papers and generally provided mediocre leadership and guidance. Thankfully, I had the privilege of working with a fantastic group of individuals who supported each other.
After the defense, all of the taskforces (I think there were 10) get together for a formal dinner... The photo above was taken after the dinner at a pub which the Jackson School overtook, where drinks and merriment were accompanied by laughter.
The lovely ladies in the picture above have been my peers since I first started at the UW . Vanja, to my left is Croatian, Monique to my right is Thai-American and Debbie to my extreme right is Zambian. Extra points to those who can locate all three countries on a map. =)
Below, is a picture of my taskforce after the dinner.
