confessions from a vacation

The week at the beach was fairly pleasant...okay, this isn't exactly true. The weather wasn't great. Hurricane Alex left little reminders in the form of rainy weather and rough seas, and the temperature was less than warm. But still, you simply have to marvel at the wonders of the ocean.

You go to the beach, stare at the ocean, and you are literally looking at the birthplace for all life on Earth. I'm not going to get into the whole creationist viewpoints here. Frankly, the thought of one half of the population stemming from the rib of the other half sounds sketchy to me. And the thought that we were created from mud, well, I just don't buy it. Besides everyone knows that men were made of snips and snails and puppy dog tails.

To think that hundreds of millions of years ago, the first little creatures made their way out of the ocean and onto dry land, having evolved enough to breathe air rather than water, is quite a feat in and of itself. The thought that these would someday further evolve to become us, is mind boggling. So lying on the beach, staring at the waves crashing onto the shore, I couldn't help but wonder what these ancient forefathers, in the form of tiny amphibious looking slime, would think of what they began and would someday become. And as I watched the spectacle of human shapes pass before me on the beach, I became pretty certain that these tiny sea creatures would have high-tailed it straight back into that ocean and right back under the rock from which they came.

Had they been able to gaze into the future, this is what they would have seen strutting and strolling along the Ocean City shores this week (on those days suitable for strutting and strolling, that is, which wasn't many); grown men in Speedos, complete with jelly-like guts pouring out from the waistband. Back hair so thick that tiny woodland creatures could very possibly be taking up residence there. Pink bald heads glistening in the sun. Women wearing two piece bathing suits when, in reality, they should have been wearing closer to five piece bathing suits, with upper thighs that more closely resembled pillow cases filled with cottage cheese rather than 'actual' thighs. Forget the double chins, we're looking at double and sometimes triple stomachs bounding down the beach. Yes, sadly, it was a true flab fiesta on the shores of Ocean City.

Granted, Ocean City has become a 'family' beach. What this means is that those beautiful bronze babes you see on the MTV spring break specials in Fort Lauderdale will most assuredly be absent. A 'family' beach means that the extent of eye-candy, both in the form of females and males...for those ladies who enjoy to munch on eye-candy every now and again...is limited to 13 year old junior high kids and the mothers (or fathers) of 13 year old junior high kids. Neither group interests me in the least, the 13 year olds for obvious reasons and their moms because flab-control is usually not practiced. Occasionally, you'll run across a mom of a 2 year old who still looks pretty damn good, but being a mom, there is usually a 'dad' close behind, so these women really aren't on the market and, therefore, aren't worth too much imagination space.

So as a 'family' beach, you get what you get. Along with the 'family' aspect, you can assume that I, too, went with 'family'...and you'd be correct. Now, I like my folks and my siblings. No problems there. And had it just been them, I could have endured the week...it's the beach for God's sake, I can endure pretty much anything while at the beach. However, my sister's husband and my brother's wife had to come along. "I can't not invite them!" was the reasoning of my mom.

So here's how the week played out. You had my folks, which is two, my sister and brother-in-law, also two, my brother and sister-in-law, again, two, and my two younger twin brothers. And then, me. The eternal fifth wheel, now playing this role on the homestead as well as in a club near you...look for my shows at both 7 and again at 11.

The weather, which was forecasted as being partly crappy with a chance of severe suckage upon our arrival on Saturday, meant that much time was spent indoors. The result of this is that I had to listen to conversations such as, "well, it did rain once in Mexico during our honeymoon, but when we went two weeks ago for our other vacation, the weather was great!" from my brother, and, "you two lovebirds better hurry up and have a baby, because me and my sweetie-pie want to have one but we're going to wait for you two!", from my sister. The result of these conversations led me straight out of the room. To the bathroom (which you can run off to only so often, otherwise people wonder what you're doing in there...and faking the stomach flu doesn't work out too well when your plan is heaps of alcohol and sea food for dinner). Running to the car to look for some 'mysteriously' missing items (such as a baseball cap, Nerf football, loose change, or that old oil change receipt to see what the policy is on getting your windshield washer fluid topped off...which got me many strange stares from my sister-in-law). Or to braving a walk on the shore in mildly hurricane-ish winds and a biting chill in the air, which I resorted to only as a last ditch effort to get away from my flesh and blood and their chosen spouses.

I have no desire to listen to them talk about any marriage or coupling related issues. I'm single. These type of conversations do a remarkable job of pointing out just how 'single' and alone I am. No honeymoons, children, or regularly scheduled sex is on my daily planner for the near future...or perhaps ever, for that matter. Not that I mind being single, but the whole 'alone-ness' of it was overly crammed into my head this week. Which then leads to the thought that I'm a failure in the most basic aspect of being human. People need each other. Physical and emotional contact. Someone to support and be supported by. Someone to talk to, come home to, and wake up to. I never found this. As I get older, I've started to think that this just isn't written in the stars for me at all. And because of this, I've failed. Failed to attract one person. And this vacation spelled that out in big neon letters for me all week. Truthfully, by the second day there, I was really in need of a vacation from my vacation.

Next year, I'm planning on taking my 'family' vacation alone.