FRIDAY – or, the start of something wonderful
Somehow, through my super-amazing powers of persuasion, I escaped work early. The moment I arrived home, I raced to my apartment, peed (which is the ultimate number one thing I must do before going on a trip otherwise I will need to stop and pee approximately 0.12 miles down the road – for real), grabbed my already packed bags, pillow, chairs and husband and left. Seeing as nothing is easy for me, especially when I’m all wound up and nearly foaming at the mouth with thoughts of THE BEACH, it took us four and half hours to get to the Outer Banks which should have taken only three and half hours. As it turns out, traffic, bridges and tunnels like to get together on Friday evenings for a sick little ménage a trois when I’m in a hurry to get someplace. So, while we left at approximately 3:00 PM, we did not get to the grocery store, which was our agreed upon meeting place in the Outer Banks, until approximately 7:30 PM when the sun had disappeared and my ambitions of “getting there before the sun goes down” where smashed.
BUT, we made it safely and grocery shopped and then, finally, we went to the house to see it and we all fell deeply and madly in LOVE with it and declared we never, ever, under any circumstances whatsoever wanted to leave. D, who we loved before, but who we now know has access to a super fabulous beach house during the off-season for FREE, is now loved times 3 instead of just times 2 like before. The house, in all of its in-the- Outer-Banks glory, was perfect for us porch-mongering fools as it had not only a BIG deck with built-in seating, but also a FABULOUS porch were we spent the majority of our time. Apparently, we don’t do decks well because, after months of congregating on a porch, to do anything different just seems wrong. Not only was the porch delicious, but the house was bare-foot walking distance from the beach. We could HEAR THE OCEAN from the porch. Nothing is better than being able to hear the ocean from a porch with good friends.
After a quick dinner out, we made it back to the house. We then walked the beach, porched, howled at the moon, remembered what stars look like, laughed our asses off, drank beers, threw stuff at each other, and, by the time I went to bed in the wee early morning hours of Saturday, it’s estimated I said, in my best mom-voice, “do you want to walk home?!” approximately 459 times. Seriously.
SATURDAY – or, the day I would like to relive over and over again
We, being tres naive, were under the impression that Friday was wickedly fun. But then, there was Saturday, the day to beat all fun and perfect and wonderful days ever.
E, in all of his loud, door-bashing-in glory, woke us up for breakfast at about 8:30, which might seem like a bad thing considering the late night debauchery of Friday night, but, as it turns out, if you wake up early, the day feels longer. In fact, the closer you wake up to sunrise, the more daylight hours you get to bask in. Who knew? And anyway, who in their right mind is going to complain when coffee and breakfast is ready the moment you wake up?
After eating we beached. For hours. And then some more hours. I took pictures, wiggled my toes in the sand, and splashed in the water. We found a million and one shells that we loved, met a dying butterfly, and a snail who, we later learned, was working on a raft. The wind was chilly, the water warmish, the sky overcast and the company fantastic. It was, in a word, perfect.
As lunchtime peaked, we made our way back to the house with our pockets clanking with seashells, our noses pinked from out of breath endeavors, and a purple snail. We discovered E, who had snuck off at some point in the beach debauchery, passed out on the couch, a plate of sandwich & congealed mayonnaise untouched beside him. Inspired by him, we all changed into sweatpants and cozy clothes and lunched on sandwiches. It was low-key. It was no-fuss. It was exactly what I needed.
For much of the afternoon, we porched. We might have drifted across state lines but we were still on a porch. Still behaving as us, still cracking each other up. Apparently you can take us off our porch, but we’ll just find another porch someplace else to congragate.
After much lazing and E’s attempts to throw L off the porch, D and I went to the grocery store. I did put on real pants for that, although now I’m not quite sure why. Once we got back, and for the first time, and possibly the last time this year, we grilled. It was delicious. Amazingly, my little group of friends is blessed enough to have one certified chef, and then D, who, as it turns out, is just really good at cooking. How we got so lucky, I’ll never be sure.
After eating there was drinking and more laughing and chairs falling over and an ENORMOUS amount of picking on L. I’m not sure why she became the butt of all of our jokes, but she did. I tried not to laugh, as I
was the only other female, and breaking girl code by laughing at her or by making inappropriate jokes about her would surely amount in me being knocked flat on my ass and out of my camping chair, but I couldn’t help it. You see if you can keep a straight face when two of your good friends are wrestling and one yells “I’M GONNA SLAP YOU IN THE WHO-WHO!” all loud and ominous like. It’s not possible. Had you seen some of the hilarity that ensued I’m pretty sure it would have overwhelmed you. Porch crew hilarity is not for everyone. Check with your physician before enjoying, otherwise, heart attacks from hilarity could be imminent.
Amazingly, we wound down. Having spent much of the day laughing so hard our tummies and faces hurt, we were exhausted and went to bed at a reasonable time. That’s not something we usually allow ourselves to do under any circumstances, but, since we were on vacation and used the excuse that we were on vacation for virtually everything we did, we allowed earlyish bedtimes just this once.
SUNDAY – or, the last day
Sunday dawned beautiful and sunny and lovely and, although we slept a little later, the day was still wonderful. D made breakfast and after a quick clean of the house, we hit the beach for some more hours. It remained sunny and my poor hubby managed to get sunburnt all to shit because sun + cheap Irish skin = NOT GOOD. BUT, we built, collectively, a super bad ass sand fortress complete with a levee and a moat and a barrier wall. It was bad ass. To say the least. We REALLY wanted to see it smashed by the waves, but, since half the group had work on Monday, we had to leave.
So we packed the last of our things, piled into cars and left. It HURT to leave the beach. It took everything I had to not flip a u-turn and build myself a little shack right on the beach, just out of reach of high tide. I think I’d be quite comfortable there.