What I love (and hate) about the beach

 

This post is inspired by a modified writing prompt from the awesome book my friend Courtney just got me. Ta dah!

 

What I love (and hate) about the beach

*an overthought essay by Bailey Brewer*

 

We'll start with what I hate, so that we can end on a positive note:

 

I hate that I associate the beach with loneliness. During my late twenties I went to the beach a lot to try and combat restlessness, to feel less alone even though so often I went there alone. Sadly my antidote was rarely effective, and I often left the shores feeling worse than when I got there. I haven't shaken this connection between sand and sadness (we'll call it sandness), but I do have hope that someday I can go to the beach and feel calm and at peace again.

 

I hate that I feel salty and grimy enough after going to the beach that I can't go directly to a formal gala (as if this is a real problem in my life). I have, however, gotten in the habit of bringing dry shampoo, a comb, a hair tie, and deodorant with me to the beach so that I can freshen up enough to feel comfortable to go to dinner somewhere.

 

I haaaaaaate parking at the beach. Your choices are either to park a mile away and walk or pay $50 to park right next to the sand. There is no in between.

 

I hate that one has to allow an hour plus (from where I live) to get from her front door to toes in the sand. And I hate that it costs a billion dollars to live near the beach. There is no in between.

 

I hate that most beaches don't allow alcohol.

 

I hate that the water off the coast of LA is too cold to swim in.

 

I hate that sometimes my mind wanders to tsunamis while I sunbathe.

 

In general sand getting everywhere doesn't bother me, but I do hate the combo of sand and sunscreen on my hands.

 

I hate that it is hard for me -- in the bright sunlight and with all the action -- to focus well enough to read. I love reading at the beach in theory, but really it aggravates me.

 

I hate feeling jealous when I see any cutesy/quirky/sexy apartment or house by the beach.

 

I hate worrying that kids aren't being properly watched by their parents.

 

And finally, I hate having to pee at the beach. Hearing waves crash does not curb the urge, for one. Second, one's options are to use disgusting beach bathrooms or go in the frigid water and casually pretend you're not peeing. There is no in between.

 

OK, let's move on to what I love!:

 

I love the way my hair braids itself into the salty wind, tangling my locks for sure.

 

I love thoughtlessly letting handfuls of sand sift through my fingers.

 

When I am brave enough (because the riptide in SoCal is like whoa), I love to get every last patch of skin and strand of hair wet and then dry slowly in the sun.

 

I looooooooove the way my hair feels to the touch when it's dry and hot from the sun.

 

I love consuming the major beach food groups: Diet Coke, chips, and candy.

 

I love ornery seagulls, and observing that they are almost as big as my fat cat. I like to cheer them on as they eat the snacks of people playing in the water.

 

I don't love all the preparation for the beach (99% of this reason is because I live so far away and so I feel pressure to remember every last thing I might want or need), but I do love having a Mary Poppins bag with me.

 

I love that the sun is so bright it is hard to see the screen on my phone, causing me to set it aside for once.

 

I love the briny, fishy smell of the air.

 

I love that when I bring my camera, beach photos turn out great.

 

I've only done this once, but I love eating funnel cake from the Santa Monica pier.

 

I love feeling like I have the beach to myself when I do a Sunday morning run down there. It is usually foggy, and life slowly emerges as café owners start setting up patio umbrellas. To see just a handful of people in a city of millions is magical in its own way.

 

I wouldn't say love, but in a twisted way (because jealousy is so much in the forefront) I like to imagine living in one of those cutesy/quirky/sexy homes by the beach.

 

I love hearing kids squeal as cold water rushes up the sand and nips at their legs. California frostbite.

 

I love being at the beach with people who I can talk to but who are comfortable in silence.

 

I love when an out-of-state friend comes to town and wants to go to the beach. I either avoid the beach entirely or go without hesitation to entertain a guest. There is no in between.