Another cat-free day!

First of all, please let me reiterate how much I hate being woken up by a cat. Like I’ve said before, it’s not usually in my nature to sleep in, so when I DO, I know my body is saying “PLEASE GIVE ME AN EFFING REST!” Apparently my body is not in contact with Taco. I woke up at 9 because he wouldn’t shut up, and I was so tired it felt like I was getting up at my workday 5:30am for work. I was not pleased.

So we left them.

2nd beach trip of this mini vacay, and I insisted we leave “early,” i.e. 11:30. Because the weather is actually so perfectly perfect, the masses are all running out to the beaches for the holiday weekend. Well, this turned out to be not early enough, as there was nary a parking spot to be found. And of course, since I hate driving and I hate having plans ruined, I got overly frustrated and started crying. Yeah. I cry. I’m not afraid to punch a 200-pound dude in the face (I firmly believe that you can always fight someone bigger than you, but NEVER fight anyone crazier than you) but I will cry like a little girl when I don’t get my way. Perhaps this can be attributed to being an only child, maybe I’m just a baby. I don’t know. So I turned the controls over to the boyfriend )who is used to these episodes and should be up for sainthood for effortlessly dealing with them), telling him that I didn’t even care anymore, I just wanted to go home. He, of course, ignored me, and tried the parking lot again, where miraculously, a guy was pulling out at that exact moment. And no one else was waiting to take the spot. He’s my lucky charm. I really hate driving.

I know this is Florida. having lived here for the entirety of my life, I’m more familiar with the climate here than anywhere else in this entire world. So when I tell you it was scorching today, feel free to believe me completely.

Ignore the seaweed, it ruins the idyllicness. That's so not a word.

Ignore the seaweed, it ruins the idyllicness. That’s so not a word.

I also know that I’m (mostly) Polish, and therefore prone to fairer skin than say, a Cuban, like my best friend, who never burns, instead turns a lovely shade of dark, as does the boyfriend (inexplicably, because his lineage is all European). So I have to wear sunscreen. I only wear 15SPF. I realize this is horrible for my future self, and in fact, my own mother had a spot of skin cancer from her nose years ago. In my defense, I DO wear 30 on my face, and not just at the beach, in my daily tinted moisturizer. Apparently I don’t care if the rest of my skin is leathery and wrinkled in my old age. I already hate what age is doing to my face, thanks to my birth control, which causes brown splotches called Melasma. You probably wouldn’t notice unless I pointed it out, but I have a dark spot resembling a mustache which I assure you is NOT actually a mustache. THANKS HORMONES.

See, I also wear a hat. So responsible of me.

See, I also wear a hat. So responsible of me.

But back to my story. Today, I felt like my skin was boiling. We spent two and a half hours there before we just couldn’t take it anymore. The water was lovely, but it can only help so much. And it’s only May. AND A COLD FRONT CAME THROUGH YESTERDAY! I can’t even imagine what it’s going to be when the real humidity kicks in. I despise laying on my stomach anyway (so hot and uncomfortable), but today it was just impossible. I couldn’t even READ. I GO to the beach to read. My body temperature was far too high to concentrate.

I’m not sure whether this is old age or global warming, but even the sand blistered my feet. It’s effing white! REFLECT HEAT LIKE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO. WTF.

The kicker is that I didn’t even get burnt. At all. I can only barely see my tan lines.

And yes, I realize that I’m bitching about something that most people would DREAM to be able to bitch about, but I’m a Florida native girl, and the beach and reading on the beach and getting color is what makes me happy. Other people play bingo and shit. I bake myself and read. Scientifically, this is actually quite logical. Your body processing the sun’s rays produces Vitamin D, vital for one’s mood. And it’s better received this way than from supplements. And reading, well, who can say anything NOT beneficial about that?

That’s a hell of a case I just made there. I should have been a lawyer. Also, I think I should just move to Hawaii. The sand is better (it just FALLS OFF your feet AND it feels like a pumice scrub to walk over it) and I swear the Pacific salt water causes a more golden glow.


  1. Boomdeeadda

    It really does seem hotter in the sun these days. I wear SPF 50…all over. Sounds crazy but in my youth, I burn and peeled at different times and it really shows on my chest. I’m constantly trying to sleep on my back to try and avoid more wrinkles. I once slept on my pillow sham because I had just fell into bed without moving stuff and it left a design on my face the whole day. LOL. There’s just a lot less elasticity to your skin after a certain age, so I do not tempt the sun gods at all. My husband can lay in a cabana all day and read. I get bored out of my mind. Luckily, I’m a fast reader and usually finish my holiday book on the plane on the way home.

    • MEOWhearthis

      Fortunately in Florida, there’s always someone more leathery and wrinkled than you so I mostly only worry about my face, which despite a hat and careful application of sunblock, appears to have gotten even blotchier. Sitting at the beach all day reading is HEAVEN. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do. Planes make me antsy, though. I love flying but I hate the close quarters and I can never get comfortable.

      • Boomdeeadda

        Why did I think you had a pilots license? Ha, I guess not, that wouldn’t work to well. I must be thinking of another gal. Truth? I’m a terrible flyer. Every little bump has me on edge, but reading helps. I try to read on the beach but a few cocktails later, I can’t remember what I read just who went by and what they were wearing…..or not wearing.

      • MEOWhearthis

        I have a student license and a few hours under my belt but not close enough!

        The more I drink the more engrossed I get in my book, it’s not until I’m done and look up that I realize I’m a bit tipsy!

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