Saturday was perfect.
I woke up in my bedroom at my Mom's house to the sound of chirping birds. I don't have a clock, but since it was so bright I figured it had to be at least nine. I reached for my cell phone and was shocked to see it was only seven. Friday I'd called my friend S and told her I'd be ready by noon Saturday to see her, but wanted to get a beach run in before. Since I was awake, I stumbled downstairs to listen to the weather report.
"It'll be cool but sunny at the coast today, with a burn time of fifteen minutes," the weatherman said. I got my bathing suit on, hosed myself down with sunscreen, told my Mom I was leaving, grabbed the spare key to my brother's car, and took off.
I didn't think I'd stay at the beach for too long since the weatherman had called for it to be cool, and I did have goosebumps as I stubbornly drove with the windows down. WBRU had a countdown of essential alternative rock albums on, and I listened to Rage Against the Machine as I pulled into Dunkin Donuts to get my breakfast. After that, the next album was the Smiths, then the Cure. While it may not have been cheerful beach music, I couldn't have been happier driving the back roads alone, singing along with the radio.
Finally, I got to Narragansett. While I could have done a U-ie to get a closer spot, I parked along the sea wall and walked a mile or so to the beach. Elderly couples strolled along, and the old guys with Harleys jockeyed for a good spot along the wall. I practically ran to make it to Town Beach. After I paid, I got a spot right near the just past high tide water between a couple of families to keep away from teenagers. I spread out my blanket, took off my cover up, and took in some sun.
It couldn't have been a better day for the beach-- consistently sunny with a cool breeze. I ate my bagel, so happy I barely worried about whether my fish white belly was blinding any of the children nearby. I read my book for a few minutes, then listened to my iPod as I lay on my back. Once I got hot, I took a dip in the ocean. It was cold, but not as cold as the water on the North Shore last weekend, and the surf was rolling nicely. I went back to my blanket to dry off and read some more. I called S around 11:30 to tell her I'd be leaving the beach a little later than I'd planned. After I got off the phone, I began to feel the telltale tingle of sunburn and packed it in.
"I think you got a little too much sun on your legs," my mother said disapprovingly when I got home. I sat down and rolled my eyes until I got in the bathroom and saw the scarlet color of the backs of my thighs. I guess my legs hadn't had enough sunscreen applied to them. After my shower, I felt the sting clearly. I put on some lotion and then called S.
S and I went to a great cheap bar and then, after a few beers, went to Target. Despite the fact that I'd eaten, the sea air and sunburn in combination with the beer had me a little looped. I grabbed a toilet bowl scrubber for a dollar, which is exciting because I'd planned to buy a scrubber at Ikea and hadn't gotten to Stoughton to pick one up. I walked around the store with my find, muttering "bippity boppity boop" while waving the brush around.
"I don't think you're supposed to do that with that," S said to me.
After Target, I went home. Another friend and I were supposed to hang out, but she didn't get in touch with me until late, and I was exhausted and hungry. Finally, Sam came home from work and took me to Wendy's to get a snack. After eating a sack of crap, I passed out in my bed, happy to know I wasn't in a big rush today.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Saturday was perfect.