Friday, September 12, 2008

Why I'm not at the beach

I should be at the beach. I want to be at the beach. But I am not at the beach. You see, my sister invited me to the beach this weekend. Her boyfriend has an event there, and I could come along. She touted all the beachy, sisterly fun we could have: Jeep on the beach! Assateague Island! Ponies! She had me at ponies, but I tried to remain level-headed and slightly suspicious, as is my way. Are you sure? I asked. Come with you and your boyfriend? Where would I stay? Are you sure??? The boyfriend assented. Come along! It will be great, no problem at all. And so I kicked my heels up in glee and frolicked like the ponies I imagined I would soon be seeing, and started planning my beach packing list.

Checking the beach forecast a couple days later, it didn't look good.

Weather's not looking so great, I frowny-faced.

Do you still want to come? she replied. We might not leave until Thurs now.

Umm, yup. I said. Still want to come. Thursday's fine.

But things quickly went downhill. According to the sis, it was mostly "a matter of timing and sleeping arrangements." After a few back and forths and failed guilt trips on my part it quickly became clear that I was going to be left behind on this excursion. I wish you had never invited me at aaallllll! I attempted to wail pitiably via text message. But the recipient, apparently lacking in angst-receptors, had her own problems, and no sympathy to give. I gave up and resigned myself to fourteen more days of boredom and isolation at the parental abode.

The next day I received another text: U home? I'm bringing u a puppy.

Since I was in the middle of a 12-mile bike ride, and it didn't sound as if a last-minute re-invitation was being extended, I didn't rush back. So apparently not only was I not invited, but now I was dog-sitting as well. Lovely. When I arrived home a couple hours later, there was a dog, and no sister. I reached for my phone and politely outlined to my sister the depths of her suckitude. She confirmed her love for me as well, and then said: U can come u know. And i'd like u to. To which I of course replied, bwwaaahhhh?? A quick phone call to clear up the confusion, and she said, "I never said you weren't invited. You should come."

But the power of the texted word speaks louder than the passive-agressive verbal un-vitation. Readers, do any of these sound as if I am warmly invited to the beach?

I dunno if the beach is gonna work out. Me n bobby are talking about it now

There's really no room and its a house full of bikers

I don't even know if I'm going. Bobby's being a [redacted].

And now to find out that not only was I not not invited, but she wishes I would come? (Talk about hot then cold. There must be something in the water at that house). "Wait, let me get this straight," I said. "Now that you already told me it wasn't going to work out and then left without me, now you want me to come?"

"Mom said she left you the car," she said.

"So now you want me to drive four hours to Ocean City by myself, because you left without me???"

"You're giving me a headache," she said.

"Bye," I said.

And that, dear readers, is why I'm not at the beach.


  1. I think it is raining at the beach.

  2. It's definitely raining at the beach. But only on their beach. On their house. And wherever they go to.

  3. I heard that there are weather warnings in Ocean City and the beach is covered in flesh eating fish. It's a good thing you didn't go ;)

  4. I've always wanted to see those ponies (blame Marguerite Henry). I'd have to drive a lot more than four hours to get there, though.

  5. I know! It's been my dream ever since Misty of Chincoteague! Ah well...