I don't really go to the beach.
Whitley Bay was my first experience of the seaside. I'd buy my bucket and spade, and beach ball, and all the shops were teeming with toys. I used to spend hours on the shuggy boats.
On vacations: We hit the sunny beaches where we occupy ourselves keeping the sun off our skin, the saltwater off our bodies, and the sand out of our belongings.
We need a ride. We're stranded." "We still have two legs, leftie and rightie. Mine are in the mood for exercise. They feel like a nice long walk--ARE YOU CRAZY?" she shrieked. I was standing with the tip of the beach umbrella aimed at the driver's-side window. "What?" I said. "We have to get in.
I've never been one for sitting on beaches.
I'm not a beach person.
If I do go to the beach there have to be certain rules: it can't be a pebbly beach, there has to be some shade and there has to be a beach bar. I don't want to go off the beaten track.
I'm the girl that's on the beach with a hat on, under an umbrella. Like, very shaded. But my weird thing is, I only tan my legs. My whole body's covered in the shade, and I tan my legs.
A beach date would be awesome, with like a little picnic basket, some fruit and bread - just something really, really relaxed and laid-back. I like just relaxing all day, maybe playing in the water a little bit. It's just totally a day to chill.
I'm the girl that's on the beach with a hat on, under an umbrella. Like, very shaded.
