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Jun. 21st, 2004 10:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redfirecrackerAll things considered, it's been a pretty much rockin' birthday week.
Dinner with my dad last Tuesday was awesome. We went to a very hoity-toity resturant called The Prime Rib, and they brought out an ENTIRE COW ON A PLATE.
Well. That's what it looked like, anyway.
It took me three days to eat all thirty-six ounces of rare meat.
Yum.
Amanda and I didn't get back from the shore until around midnight last night. That made it hard to get out of bed this morning, but God! It was a great weekend!
I only got a little bit sunburned, which is very good. However, it's a part of my back that I can't reach with the aloe, so I'm going kind of crazy BECAUSE IT FUCKING ITCHES!!!
Grrrrrrrrrrrr.
And, burned on the backs of my knees and down my calves, which I somehow managed to miss with the sunblock.
It's kind of funny . . . you can see white streaks through the red, fingerprints of sunblock in the burn.
Like art gone terribly, terribly wrong.
Yesterday was the perfect day at the beach for us. There was strong ocean breeze, so no bugs! The air was about sixty-eight degrees and the sun was shining brightly in a blue and cloudless sky.
The few other people on the beach were bundled up in sweatshirts and long pants, towels and blankets wrapped around them, huddling together for warmth.
Amanda and I, penguins to the very cores of our beings, happily whipped out our beach towels, doffed our terry-cloth coverups, and sprawled gleefully in the sun, basking cheerfully in the chilly wind.
The water was just cold enough to be shocking, especially when the undertow sucked my feet out from under me and dumped me on my ass in water up to my neck.
I've never been to Ship Bottom before, and I couldn't help comparing it to Wildwood, which is where my family always went when I was growing up.
The comparisons went something like this:
Amanda: The sand is really soft, so be careful.
me: Can we go down nearer the water, where the sand is packed?
Amanda: The sand doesn't get packed. Even when it's wet, it's still really soft.
me: That's kinda weird. Wildwood's not like that. I thought all beaches were sort of hard.
Amanda: Oh, great. Greenhead flies. I'm glad I brought the Skin-So-Soft.
me: Wildwood doesn't have flies.
Amanda: Are you wearing your beach badge?
me: No. It'll put holes in my suit.
Amanda: The beach patrol is gonna throw you off the beach if you're not wearing it.
me: Wildwood doesn't have beach badges. Their beaches are free.
Amanda: What do you want to do after dinner?
me: I dunno. Boardwalk?
Amanda: Nope. No boardwalk.
me: No boardwalk? Wildwood has a boardwalk. I guess this mean we don't get fudge, either.
Amanda: We can go inland if you really want fudge.
me: Rides?
Amanda: No rides. Unless you want to go up to Seaside Heights.
me: Wildwood has rides. And, ew. North Jersey beaches don't count.
Amanda: Southern snob.
me: So what does Ship Bottom have, anyway?
Amanda: My parents' shore house. Which you are staying at for free. So shut up.
me: Um. Yeah. Good point.
Amanda: *glares*
me: Shutting up, now.
She wasn't really mad, more like play-mad. But I was being unintentionally whiny, which I attribute to the sheer weirdness of being at a beach other than the one with which I am intimately familiar.
After shutting up and lying peacefully in the sun, dozing to the sound of the surf and the calls of the gulls, I realized that there were no competing radios, very few screaming children, and not even much in the way of conversation. It wasn't crowded, or noisy, or trash-ridden.
In fact . . . it was damned nice.
Even though I'm tired, I feel really good. It was great just to get away for a weekend and do something different than the ordinary round of chores. I would've liked to get a little more rest before class started up again tonight, but oh well. I can catch up later in the week.
Dinner with my dad last Tuesday was awesome. We went to a very hoity-toity resturant called The Prime Rib, and they brought out an ENTIRE COW ON A PLATE.
Well. That's what it looked like, anyway.
It took me three days to eat all thirty-six ounces of rare meat.
Yum.
Amanda and I didn't get back from the shore until around midnight last night. That made it hard to get out of bed this morning, but God! It was a great weekend!
I only got a little bit sunburned, which is very good. However, it's a part of my back that I can't reach with the aloe, so I'm going kind of crazy BECAUSE IT FUCKING ITCHES!!!
Grrrrrrrrrrrr.
And, burned on the backs of my knees and down my calves, which I somehow managed to miss with the sunblock.
It's kind of funny . . . you can see white streaks through the red, fingerprints of sunblock in the burn.
Like art gone terribly, terribly wrong.
Yesterday was the perfect day at the beach for us. There was strong ocean breeze, so no bugs! The air was about sixty-eight degrees and the sun was shining brightly in a blue and cloudless sky.
The few other people on the beach were bundled up in sweatshirts and long pants, towels and blankets wrapped around them, huddling together for warmth.
Amanda and I, penguins to the very cores of our beings, happily whipped out our beach towels, doffed our terry-cloth coverups, and sprawled gleefully in the sun, basking cheerfully in the chilly wind.
The water was just cold enough to be shocking, especially when the undertow sucked my feet out from under me and dumped me on my ass in water up to my neck.
I've never been to Ship Bottom before, and I couldn't help comparing it to Wildwood, which is where my family always went when I was growing up.
The comparisons went something like this:
Amanda: The sand is really soft, so be careful.
me: Can we go down nearer the water, where the sand is packed?
Amanda: The sand doesn't get packed. Even when it's wet, it's still really soft.
me: That's kinda weird. Wildwood's not like that. I thought all beaches were sort of hard.
Amanda: Oh, great. Greenhead flies. I'm glad I brought the Skin-So-Soft.
me: Wildwood doesn't have flies.
Amanda: Are you wearing your beach badge?
me: No. It'll put holes in my suit.
Amanda: The beach patrol is gonna throw you off the beach if you're not wearing it.
me: Wildwood doesn't have beach badges. Their beaches are free.
Amanda: What do you want to do after dinner?
me: I dunno. Boardwalk?
Amanda: Nope. No boardwalk.
me: No boardwalk? Wildwood has a boardwalk. I guess this mean we don't get fudge, either.
Amanda: We can go inland if you really want fudge.
me: Rides?
Amanda: No rides. Unless you want to go up to Seaside Heights.
me: Wildwood has rides. And, ew. North Jersey beaches don't count.
Amanda: Southern snob.
me: So what does Ship Bottom have, anyway?
Amanda: My parents' shore house. Which you are staying at for free. So shut up.
me: Um. Yeah. Good point.
Amanda: *glares*
me: Shutting up, now.
She wasn't really mad, more like play-mad. But I was being unintentionally whiny, which I attribute to the sheer weirdness of being at a beach other than the one with which I am intimately familiar.
After shutting up and lying peacefully in the sun, dozing to the sound of the surf and the calls of the gulls, I realized that there were no competing radios, very few screaming children, and not even much in the way of conversation. It wasn't crowded, or noisy, or trash-ridden.
In fact . . . it was damned nice.
Even though I'm tired, I feel really good. It was great just to get away for a weekend and do something different than the ordinary round of chores. I would've liked to get a little more rest before class started up again tonight, but oh well. I can catch up later in the week.
