The Beach

“A friend will bail you out of jail … a redneck friend will be sitting next to you saying: ‘Dang, that was fun!’”.

I wish sometimes I were a beach gal. No, I really do! This blog would meet the expectations of beach going folks everywhere then! So, I really wish I got a kick out of going to the beach, and the salty air, and the crispy skin in the summer, and the shell-shaped necklaces and the flop-flops, and the funky, flimsy tanks showing your nipples, and the big tall drinks with the cute umbrellas in them, and the cups you get to keep, and all that sand coming off in the shower, and the pools and the hot tubs, oh, joy! … But I have wiry hair that hates the sun and the humidity and the salt in the air. And fair skin that never, but I mean never tans, but always burns! And I am a beer chick. I cannot swim, either. And let’s not talk about the nipples! I am shy, too! So, the beach does nothing for me!

I do want to live within weekend driving distance from the ocean, though, because occasionally, I like to visit it, even for just a change of scenery. The ocean, also, helps me think! When I see that whole world, hidden under waters, as well as seeing the waves coming and going, all that passing, renewing … just like the tides of life – that puts things into perspective, and into motion for me. So, I like to visit.

This spring’s beach trip was not just helpful for my life perspective. But also intrinsic to fill up my dry girlie well. Let me explain!

This trip was all about being with the girls and being a girl. No boys to worry about. Plenty of room to drink beer, feel bloated, burp and do it all over again … Plenty of time to shop till I dropped (you all know I am an anti-shopping crank year-round) and not worry about the bottom line. Everyone else was doing it, so why should I worry?!?

And who cares if you’re too drunk or tired to put on your lipstick or mascara, or whatever, we’re all friends: we’ll tell you it looks like crap, we’ll even take pictures to prove it and then help you put it on right!

Plenty of opportunities to gossip till we feel like we just ran out of victims in the whole wide world! And boy were we mean: from people we couldn’t stand, to people who we felt sorry for! We were ruthless. And plenty, oh, plenty of opportunities to see how fortunate and loved I truly am to have such friends to do it with! Sometimes it’s just good to kick back and just speak out loud about people you withhold about all day long, because of darn political correctness!

Yeah, they told me I am a “damn Aries” who can’t keep her mouth shut most times, and they made fun of my hatred for sweets (what girl hates chocolate, right??), and they told me that I like dull people, otherwise I can’t fall in love, and that my hair might look like a “skunk” in a couple of months, when my gray streaks will really be huge enough to tell … and one day they even told me I looked bloated! Burp!!!

And I felt free to tell them back: that they are fashion Nazi’s, that they are judgmental and gossipy, that they are geeks, that they snore and I am happy we’re not sharing rooms! It was all in good fun and good laughter (I hope!!).

It was such a great, rejuvenating weekend of just being silly and “worrying about” silly things. When would I ever have time to shop around the gift shops in Greensboro and just browse and laugh at goofy signs, like “Feng-Shui is Chinese for moving your husband’s crap in the garage”, or “After my last relationship I fell in love with food, and now I can’t get in my own pants!” ?! I tell you: I do not know of many great guys out there who would have gotten this and laughed with me as hard as the girls did!

And then, of course, we talked about “girlie” stuff, which is not to be mentioned here, but it’s to be imagined, I am assuming, by … imaginative minds.

We people watched, and gossiped, just like only girls know how to, pointing out the gorgeous “bimbo” and the old man couple at the raw fish bar who were looking pretty out of place, kinky and drunk, or the crazy men on the pier who were trying to hit on us with lame lines which must have died probably 50 years ago, not that they seemed to have caught up on that; we met new people, for some, like the pier guy, a happy and drunk ol’ man, who had a story for every day he’s spent there, whose tales were as colorful as the drinks he was having mixed for himself at 10 AM every morning. Aww, all good times! Never to forget!

And guys, seriously: do you really not know when your hairy butt crack is hanging out smiling at the sky from under your pants?! Or you do, but you really think that’s sexy? I tell you: it’s NOT! It’s funny, yeah, but not sexy! I wondered if our ancestors who actually fished to survive impressed their lasses with a free viewing of their buttocks?! Wonder if by evolution, we, girls of today, just lost the meaning of it all?!? Hhmmm…

Thank God for friends who think that’s as funny as I do, and even snapped a shot of that awkward view! And even as a non-ocean chick, ladies, I am up for another round the next time we all get a chance! Thanks all for coming and building the memories!

Enjoy some pictures here.