The closest I usually come to tanning in the winter is sitting next to a fireplace. If Dad is making the fire, it can result in second degree blisters. My fireplace - well, I stopped using it last year. The cracks give me thoughts of dialing 911 while going to get the fire engine to return to my own home.

So, in search of warmth - although, I have been keeping the house a balmy 64 degrees now with the new furnace - I tried a tanning bed.

Apparently I am a prehistoric cavegal because even though I said this was all new to me, there I stood staring at it thinking okay do I grab the top and pull it closer? Why is it not lighting? Shouldn't the bulbs be on? Press the green button a few times. Green means GO right? After about seven minutes, it turned on. Mmmmm - nice. Then three minutes later - tada! You're done. Come on - toast doesn't even brown that quickly.

Back to the petite, bronzed gal at the front counter. Oh yes, quite a few mouse clicks later and I was trying it again. Laying there giggling as fleeting thoughts zinged through my head...for the number of times I laughed at people telling me about how wonderful tanning is. I'm now justifying this as Vitamin D production.

Alas, the larger picture - I'm taking it as a sign that I was assigned to the Jamaica Room. Tonight, I added a few more pieces of change to the jar. Everyone needs a dream or two or three or...