Since we should arrive before lunch, we'll meet my cousin on the beach and expose our blindingly white bodies. I'm not a beach person, unless it means going at night, which is another lovely story altogether.
Spent much of my adolescence and young adulthood plagued by people with a substance called melanin in their skin that caused them to crave the rays of the sun. Consequently, I suffered countless hours on the hot sand, wrapped in Levis and sweatshirts to avoid splattering like a strip of bacon.
I killed time by reading behind a pair of massive UV-repellent goggles. One time, a tall, handsome, golden, and sufficiently-muscled 21-year-old man approached not my lithe friends, who lay fetchingly in bikinis, but me: the poindexter inside a book.
He crouched down next to me. "What're you reading?" he asked.
"Wuthering Heights," I answered.
"You're kidding," he said. "I just finished Jane Eyre."
And so began a little romance. Years later, one of my bikini friends still marvels at it.
If a pasty bookworm can get the attention of a gorgeous (and well-read!) man on the beach, I guess anything can happen.
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1 comment:
Terry,
I can so relate! I have that Irish skin as well and as a child and teenager was disgusted with myself because I couldn't look like a California beach girl ala Farrah Fawcett and Heather Locklear! When I was sixteen, I would have given my right eye to look like Farrah Fawcett(sadly, I wouldn't say that now--that poor woman has had more than her share of heartache)
Kids made fun of me because I was so pale. One mean-spirited boy even called me an albino! Ridiculous from a scientific standpoint since I have hazel eyes!
Like you, I would be wrapped up on the beach. It goes back to being the person God made you. Once I understood this concept and realized that there are many types of beauty, my angst vanished. We are most attractive when we are being ourselves and not trying to emulate someone else.
Have a great weekend at the beach!
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