beachy

Over the past three weekends, I've been to three separate beaches: one in the North, one in the South, and one in the West Coast Best Coast. After all this beach time, you'd think I'd be pretty tan, but the truth is I was slathered in spf 785093 with the exception of California, which has now left me an appealing shade of ruby red. All of the beaches were super nice & pretty, and all they all had something that made them different from the others.

In the North, I went to Wingaersheek beach, which is in Gloucester, Mass. It was your classic New England beach- white sand, lighthouse, ice cream stand, guidos as far as the eye could see. The weather was perfect & it was super relaxing,  although we had to continuously move our towels because of the ever-raising tide. The water, unfortunately, was ICE. I didn't know water could exist in liquid form at that cold of a temperature, it was definitely like 13 degrees. On the bright side, my cousin and I got spongebob ice cream.

The South beach was, of course, South Carolina. Krystie Lee's beach house was right on the water, you could hear the ocean with the windows open. After watching a healthy dose of Shark Week, we walked the .25 minutes to the beach. Her little sister was freaked out that we were going to get attacked by a great white, but fortunately we escaped unscathed. Although, it would be a pretty cool story to tell when people asked about the huge shark-mouth-shaped scar on your leg or something. But then again, most people attacked by great whites usually come out of the attack missing a limb, or being dead. Anyways, on the not so morbid side, the water was super warm & clear, I found pretty shells, and in the morning from our balcony we could see dolphins swimming after the fishing boats.

West coast = Santa Monica. Always worth the drive there, even if it's an hour on a crowded bus when you're stuck next to the chubbiest little girl in the entire world that is taking up half of your seat. It was a Friday in the summer, a time I'd never been to the pier before, and it was so packed. The boardwalk was extremely crowded, and even though the water was freezing, the ocean was swimming with people (get it?). After spending a few hours in the sand, Jaclyn & I decided to go walk around the pier & promenade a little bit. I was walking through the sand to the boardwalk when I felt a little pinch on my toe. Too distracted by people swimming in the water while holding bicycle wheels above their heads (?) I figured I just stepped on a thorn or something and it would go away. But then it was a bigger pinch, and then it hurt, then it hurt really bad. I threw myself down on the sand to get this annoying and increasingly painful thorn out of my toe, only to realize it was not a thorn, but a BEE. I want to say the last time I'd been stung by a bee was at least 14 year ago. Needless to say, it hurt a lot more than I remembered. I freaked out about it for about three minutes, then it didn't hurt so bad and I moved on. But seriously, who steps on a bee? Also, that was just yesterday, and it definitely is still sore. Die bees!

So, after visiting three totally different beaches in such a short amount of time, it's hard not to pick which one I liked the best. And while they're all great, it's obvious that the only true winner is California. Even though the sun left me with more of a lobster color than bronzey glow, and I was attacked by a  savage bee, nothing beats California. I've gone to the beach there when it was freezing, windy, and raining. Always worth it. Why? I have no idea, the West Coast is just the best, hence Best Coast.

My clock says 11:11, which means I get to wish for permanent extinction of all bees. I'll miss honey, but it'll be worth it.

cheers,

lauren