My Summer Secret

maybe if all beaches were this beautiful, I could be persuaded 

We were supposed to meet friends at the beach yesterday. Waking up to a gnarley double charlie horse in your calf because you spent the night before doing tequila shots (who IS this?) and dancing until 12:30, which is the latest you've been out in months (years?), craving a massive greasy breakfast and the urge to do nothing but guzzle water and avoid bright lights isn't the breezy beach day start I was hoping for. So instead of manning up, packing a cooler full of water bottles and Gatorade and dragging my ass an hour away to some beach in Rhode Island, we did the responsible thing: texted our friends and bailed.

Whomp whomp.

I hate when people cancel plans same day. It's kind of a dick move, unless there's an actual emergency. Which there never is. I take the blame for this, but that's not my secret, since I rarely, if ever, pull such a stunt. The reality is, I wasn't actually cancelling because of a hangover. I was cancelling because, well, to be honest...

...I don't really like the beach.

Cue the horrified reactions and dramatic gasps while I make my case.

When I think of a day at the beach, it's not nice and relaxing; it's an assload of work. Packing the coolers and prepping the food and drinks. Lugging said cooler and the towels and chairs and the games and the reading materials. Figuring out the logistics; are we taking the train? Driving? Is there free parking? Will parking be such a mob scene that we have to park a mile away and schlep armloads of stuff?

Sand is not all fun and castles. It's messy and itchy and ends up getting everywhere, in every article of clothing you bring, all over your car, and in between your toes, where it's impossible to get out. It's a bitch to walk on, particularly in flip flops, which are basically the only appropriate footwear for the beach, and even worse to walk on barefoot when it's 90 degrees out, like it's been all week.

The Atlantic Ocean is way too cold to enjoy swimming in. If I wasn't opposed to shark attacks and terrified of open water, the chilling temperatures would be enough to keep me out.

Don't even get me started on the amount of sunscreen I need to "enjoy" a day at the beach; I spend the majority of my time applying and reapplying, even though I make sure to settle myself in the shade, and somehow, inexplicably, I end up with a sunburn that plagues me for the rest of the summer.

I'm not anti-beach entirely; I like a nice boardwalk stroll at sunset, or exploring beaches when we're vising new places. This is not to say I don't enjoy the water; I love lakes and boating and pools. I'd never turn down a lazy river ride. But I am turning down your beach invite, so it can either be now or a same day bailout. You've been forewarned.