Call me a beach bum: I just got home from my second straight weekend at the shore. This time, some girlfriends and I went down to stay with our friend Matt in Long Beach Island, New Jersey. We had a blast relaxing on the beach, sipping beers on the porch, and taking (yet another) surf lesson. The waves were so choppy that the entire sea looked like the froth from a root beer float, but we all managed to stand up and ride for at least a few seconds! I love gliding across the glassy water; it feels like time stops until you realize you're going to wash up onto the sand or, for me, topple over to the side. Too bad getting to the beach and renting boards is such a hassle from the city. Mark my words: One day I'll become a surfer chick! Of course, that may not be until I have more money and less work, but I can deal with that. Being the badass grandma in a rash guard sure sounds good to me.
P.S. I can't remember the last time I just sat and watched the sun sink into the horizon, like a giant fiery ember fading into darkness. So beautiful. I'm putting that on my list of "things to do more often."
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