My skin will probably be beef jerky at 40, and I'll die early from one skin ailment or another, and all my icky, over-processed hair I can barely look at in photos will one day fall out, but I'm not regretting the nap on the hill, and this consequent sunburn.
Good thing I'm not on Thorozine, like poet Anne Sexton whom had a line in a poem (I'm paraphrasing) about sunbathing being like "making love to the sky Gods." I guess she had to give up the sun for the compromise of taking a psychotropic medication. I was trying to find the line from the poem, but came across this book excerpt instead:
http://books.google.com/books?id=10n0bOSe0CMC&pg=PA33&lpg=PA33&dq=%22sunbathing%22+%22anne+sexton%22&source=bl&ots=oMhZevNLrj&sig=dI63eXBRTqWdkKoK7s6KfLGDrfY&hl=en&ei=4zUMStbLFpy0NYe9lacG&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1
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