The Final Countdown

Two weeks and counting. And then the cute neighbor is just... gone. Driving off into the sunset in his U-Haul. Two weeks. Then I'm going to be left behind to try to figure out what it was that I did before he was in my life. I mean, how am I going to spend my Saturday mornings if not sleeping in with the cute neighbor, then cooking breakfast together while listening to NPR? I think I'm going to be running a lot.

Two weeks ago, the cute neighbor and I were at least able to go on a mini-break together. We got out of town for a long weekend camping at the beach. I wanted to use this opportunity to cross something off my New Year's Resolution list: skinny dipping. I've said it before and I'll say it again, but if I died tomorrow, my biggest regret in life would be not going skinny dipping. I'm not sure why, but skinny dipping seems to me a symbol of living life to the fullest, so to speak. Nakedness, water, the most natural of elements. So yes, on this trip I was determined to go skinny dipping.

Skinny-dipping on the beach, however, is not as easy as it seems (does it seem easy?). It's something that kind of needs to be done late at night, when the air is cooler, and the water dark and slightly scary. The beach closest to our camping spot (and thus within walking distance late at night after drinking beer around the campfire) had a big, scary-looking sign posted informing us of the high levels of bacteria found in that water and STRONGLY CAUTIONED us not to swim in it. The last thing I want to do is bathe my naked hoo-ha in high levels of bacteria.

Second, I was hoping to include the cute neighbor in this skinny-dipping endeavor. I mean, why wouldn't I? However, without my even mentioning skinny-dipping, the cute neighbor informed me that the ocean is the last place he would ever want to go skinny-dipping in case the fish mistake his dingus for bait. Hmm. Excellent point.

And thus, no skinny-dipping. But I WILL do it. I'm bound and determined.

Aside from the shattered dream, the cute neighbor and I had a fantastically awesome weekend. We rode bikes on the beach and went kayaking, and he didn't even get mad at me that my right arm is stronger than my left so I kept making left turns and he had to work harder to correct it, or that I flung mud all over him when we were going through really shallow water.

It really hit home when we got back and I told my roommate all about it, and she said that's so great that we'll at least have that last nice memory together. That made me sad. Obviously I don't know what will happen or how it will end, but she's right. We'll always have the beach.