+ 

= beach love.

We are back from our excursion, during which I got to do lots of fun things, like finish a whole book at leisure and blister the backs of my legs and feign wealth at outlet malls and eat over and beyond my fill with no guilt. I did not, to my dismay, get to blog, because believe it or not there are still places on this planet that receive weak wi-fi signals. (Right? Get it together.) But the tech-break, however unwilling, was kind of nice, too.

It is a testament to the relativity of time that one night, you can be walking along the beach in the tide, looking down and seeing plankton that look like glow-stick guts flickering in the sand and looking up and seeing without strain the big dipper in all of it's awesomeness starting back at you, and then the next, be back on your couch with the familiar angst of the early rise ahead of you, and the pit of dread for all of the emails you have neglected.

But that is a post for another day entirely.

Other things I learned (directly or indirectly) from beach time:
Some pull-out couches should just stay couches and stop pretending.
Mixing SPF's is a terrible idea.
Burn on burn sometimes equals tan but not always.
My mom is a cat whisperer.
Seafood with the heads still on still freaks me out.
A dozen eggs and a loaf of bread goes quickly with 6 mouths.
"No fireworks on the beach" clearly means "Please come to the beach to watch our fireworks."

I'm glad I have lkj to come home with me after vacations. I hate being thrust into loneliness after a whirlwind of people and activities. I end up just walking around from room to room. It's more friendly with two.

Tonight, on a completely unrelated note, I get to experience the wonderfully mundane adult-ness of signing up for insurance. Couple that with Harry Potter being over and I feel like I hit 40 over the weekend.

Someone get me a shot.