Archive for November, 2009

There is no sand in my asshole…

November 2nd, 2009 No comments

I don’t like the beach. Continuing my general policy of giving flippant, detail-free responses to lifestyle questions, I normally reply with something like the title of this post when asked why.

For a variety of reasons (my girlfriend) I spent this past weekend at a cottage on the beach. Nothing separated my from sneaker wave induced drowning but some wood and glass and an unexpected two lane road.

And it didn’t suck.

The beach itself, as an environment and medium, is still pretty unimpressive. As covered on Twitter on the first morning for some reason I woke up just before dawn and decided I was going to go out onto the beach and watch the sunrise. After tromping up and down the stairs (since I’m dating the hostess/organizer of this expedition I was, naturally, in the master bedroom) a few dozen times (inside joke, no I won’t explain it) I was on the beach in the pre-dawn gloom.

At that point I realized two things.
1: Logs on the beach after being rained on all night are wet, at that point so was my ass.
2: A commercial jingle (for a cruise line IIRC) went “from the sunrise in the east, to the sunset in the west” illustrated the reason the sun was going to peek out from behind a ridge of hills, much as it does in Portland. So while I wouldn’t get to see the sun come up from the water, people living on the East coast don’t get to see it fall down into the water.

Anyway, the sun came up, the sky turned blue and the clouds turned pink before they turned white. There was sand, water and no bars. I went back inside. So much for the beach.

Also in the “new experiences” department, non-annoying toddlers and breakfast burritos. To be sure I’d had breakfast burritos before, the microwaveable ones. I decided after some experimentation the very idea was loathsome and deserving only of punishment. Fresh ones, however, were pretty good. If you’d told me as late as, oh, 7:55am, Saturday October 31st, 2009 that I’d have pico de gallo for breakfast and enjoy it, I’d have pointed and laughed. Then looked for some stairs to kick you down. Well, shit happens, right?

Oh, you’re probably still tripping on the “non-annoying toddler” thing. There’s not much to elaborate on there. One of the cottage guests was a toddler, and he wasn’t very annoying. I’d elaborate, but, y’know, he’s a baby and this is hardly a baby blog. But if the one known as Wooga talks about a couple bringing a sub 2 years old boy and a half Weimaraner half chocolate Lab to some event, have no worries. Even though Labs are the most emo of dogs (that was another inside joke, deal).

The rest of the weekend, well Manzanita is as if you put Multnomah Village in the middle of fucking nowhere. With more real estate companies. Cannon Beach is even worse because of the gift shop plague. If I had to spend any length of time on the Oregon Coast my desire to live would evaporate. Even this past weekend would have been pretty lame without 7 other people in the house. As my past experiences in Milton-Freewater illustrated, I’m city. I want concrete and funny smells and a number of venues for poisoning myself within a few minutes’ walk.

But, y’know. It didn’t suck. I also came home with several days of black bean soup, a bag of Oreos and nearly a case of Mt Dew. And I scored points by introducing Wooga to cash n’ carry. Net positive.