The Last Written Word of Sand

7/29/2010

I have decided to give up trying to blog on my iPhone. I love the mobility… when I actually have a decent signal.

 
 

My grandmother is trying to make me feel better about my 30 birthday next year. Age really is just a number in this family. They're 82 and don't act a bit of it! It still doesn't' make me feel any better about my age. She then tells me age doesn't mean anything but Obama is going to shoot all the old people with his healthcare plan. She means that facetiously of course.

 
 

This vacation has been so wonderful. I think I've done my vacationing properly, too. I can't seem to remember what day of the week it is. Unfortunately, it's Thursday. That means I have three full days left here and that is just not enough time for me! I want to stay here another week. Not that I don't miss my friends or the rest of my family. I just feel so relaxed here. Nothing to worry about, fuss over, fight to make happen. It's pleasant.

 
 

Today's plans: I'm a little pink from yesterday, SPF 50 is mandatory for my shoulders. Boo! I'm not letting a little burn stop me from trying to conquer my fear of ocean life in ankle deep waters. I'm going to make it to the sandbar. I've start a new book, PS I love you, and so far it's not been too bad. It's not Dexter. It's not gore and mystery so it's not really holding my attention just yet. Maybe it'll pick up in chapter 4 because the first three have me sluggishly flipping the pages. I hear it's a very good story, though. I've not seen the movie, either. Pool is definitely on the agenda. My aunt and uncle are on their way down today and my dad is moving into the condo below us. This trip has turned into the biggest family reunion. Siblings, nieces, nephews, in-laws, cousins, second cousins, aunt, uncle, grandparents, parents… I should have made T-shirts to sell this week. "The Anybody Related to Steph Reunion"

 
 

My dad just came up from trying to get the room below us settled. He rented it a few weeks ago. Apparently, no one's been in the condo all week and they won't let him go ahead and get situated. It seems rather petty but it pisses my dad off because the office has told him that people are in it. Drama drama drama. I hope he doesn't let that bother his trip that much, cause he's going to get in later and he's already at the beach.

 
 

Last night, we played guitar on the beach during sunset. A crowd came around us and we all shot the shit, drank a few beers, and sang different songs. It was fun. I haven't had an audience while I played guitar before so it made me a bit nervous. It was still fun. Afterwards, my dad and I were the only ones sitting on the lounges in the sand and we were watching the ocean.

 
 

"Dad," I said. "I think this is the first time we've shared a beer on the beach."

 
 

"Yup." he answered. "It's nice."

 
 

As if you couldn't have cued it better in a movie, fireworks started shooting off on the pier right in front of us. It wasn't amateur fireworks, either. A fireworks company had set up camp at the end of the pier and started a show that lasted twenty minutes. It was like the fourth of July on the 28th. They were huge fireworks. Some in the shapes of stars, some shaped like hearts. Large round explosions of blue and red in the shape of ribbons on a white ball of small lights. Huge golden streams of glitter exploded in succession and silver streams of fire framed the picture. It was so random it made it that much more special.

 
 

So after I sat on the beach and played music with my dad, we sat in the sand with a cold beer and watched fireworks. I'll always remember that.