I'll Take a Side of SALT with that BURN, Please.

I got a beautiful envelope in the mail today. It was from one of my former places of employment, a government-run health & social services clinic. I used to work there as a receptionist, on and off since 2003. Long time, I know.

You would think that an organization that had employed me for say, 7 years, would have a good idea as to who I am.

WRONG - O.

You'd think that their human resources department would be able to differentiate between names typically given to men, versus names typically given to females, right?

NOPE. INCORRECT.

(I smudged out my address for privacy's sake... and plus, I'm not interested in invoking my mother's infamous "PRIVACY AND THE INTERNET" speech, TYVM. If you want to send me postcards, chain letters [REMEMBER THOSE?!] or packages, you may email me privately for my address. I like mail. NOT THIS KIND, BUT GENERALLY, YES.)

Sorry, okay. Do we see the problem here? MONSIEUR JACLYN. As in MISTER.

I understand that this is a French-speaking organization, and I understand that in the normal part of the world, "Jaclyn" is commonly spelled "Jacqueline" (or some variant of that). But really? This envelope contained a letter pretty much excommunicating me from this clinic (not in a bad way, I swear) and detailing when I worked there and for how long and informed me that I no longer work for them - AND I WON'T IN THE FUTURE. So not only did they CALL ME A MAN, but they ALSO reminded me that my tenure with them is O-V-E-R.

For the record, my name is spelled JACLYN because I was named after Jaclyn Smith, of Charlie's Angels & K-Mart sassy clothes collection fame. Clearly that HR rep never caught an episode of Charlie's Angels. You can't mistake Jaclyn Smith for a MAN.

Now, on the topic of BURNS, I guess I should share a funny/unfunny. It's a good news/bad news type of deal. I've been plagued, as I say, with mild psoriasis since as far back as I can remember. It's not always been a treat. Wearing pants in the summer or explaining why it looks like I have a bunch of mosquito bites on my knees was hardly ever fun. I'm lucky, in a sense, that it's always been fairly manageable. This year, for whatever reason, it started getting out of hand, and a new dermatologist recommended I start undergoing UVB treatment - which is essentially fake tanning, but healthy, covered by medicare and extremely beneficial for my skin.

I go 2-3 times a week, and I'm almost done my treatment and the results are just unreal. It's fantastic, which is good news. Because it's UVB lights, I also get a SLIGHT tan from my continued treatment - also good news.

Here's the bad news: too much exposure can cause a bit of a sunburn.

My entire body is sunburnt. My face has these fantastic marks from where my protective goggles lie. My arms are in this perma-Barbie arms position, straightening them out HURTS. My back? A MESS. My mother had to rub aloe on my back before. DIDN'T HELP. My nose hurts when I wrinkle it. Classic nose burn. I guess it's kind of funny, given that it's FEBRUARY and I did NOT spend my holidays down South.

BUT REALLY, IT'S NOT. I AM IN AN AWKWARD AMOUNT OF PAIN.

The fabulous part though, is that my skin isn't even red. It's just this heavenly deep tan. Guess I shouldn't complain much, right?