Ocean Avenue (77/90)

I spent the whole day at the beach.

The beach isn't really for me. I mean, I like the sand, and the ocean. That stuff is cool. But laying there for hours on end, doing absolutely nothing, isn't my cup of tea. Sure, I brought things to do. But it seems like after awhile you either get too hot or too cold, and have to adjust to bring yourself back to a more comfortable temperature. And then you see everyone else with their perfect bodies, trying to get the perfect tan, and you wonder what else there is to do at the beach.

I was going to write about how frustrating it is being at the beach, surrounded by the perfect bodies and not having one for yourself. I was going to bitch and moan about how having that perfect beach body seems to be a requirement for everyone in my age group when they go to the beach. I was going to start hating on myself once again.

But now I don't want to. Probably because I've been thinking about this since we first set out from the house, about 12 hours ago. And I was next going to write about how I prefer to be cold rather than hot, because I just can't deal with heat very well. And there's only so much you can take off when you're hot; you can usually put more on then take off. But I realized that there's not much else you can say on that topic.

I thought being at the beach would inspire me to write something. But so far all it's done is make me feel worthless. I mean, it's beautiful to look at, but the picture is marred when you see all the people on it. The power behind the waves is inspiring, but nothing has come from watching them break onto each other. The people on the beach were off in their own worlds, not talking to anyone who wasn't in their original group. Most of the females were trying to tan; a lot of the guys were smoking. The kids were playing in the sand or walking into the waves.

I didn't want to be on the beach these past few days. I almost feel like it's let me down. So has this post. I apologize.