Free therapy

Sometimes, I’m jealous of boys. They aren’t scared of roaches, their pants come in the exact length and waist size and they know how to properly work the DVR.
They somehow grill meat better, too.

However, this past weekend, I was not jealous of boys at all. Not even for even a minute. I was too busy enjoying my girlfriends and the beach for that.

See, I absolutely love the beach (love the beach so much there should be another word for it) and in my experience, boys at the beach are no fun.

They get extreme ADD and are incapable of sitting still.

They are overactive, overstimulated creatures, and laying on the beach reading a magazine is not their idea of enjoyment.
They want to throw around a football or a Frisbee or go swimming or surfing and no, I am not done with my US Weekly so I don’t want to play soccer. No, I don’t care if you think the magazine is crap. Suri needs help!

Girls, however, can totally take a chill pill and enjoy sitting quietly, soaking up the sun on an oversized towel with oversized sunglasses.
Which is exactly what I did last weekend during girls’ weekend at the beach.

I was never a member of a sorority, since I pretty much went to a sorority in high school, but I have joined an honorary sorority called Kappa Schnappa, which is as hilarious at it sounds. There are nine very exclusive members and we don’t share our strawberry moonshine with just anyone.

Denise, one of the founding members of Kappa Schnappa, has the great fortune of having a beach house in her family, and every year we make the two-hour trip up the South Carolina coast to play on the beach. No boys allowed.

This year’s trip was most excellent, helped by the fact that we all had particularly taxing week days leading up to it. (I, for one, had after-work commitments and didn’t get home before 9:30 p.m. all week. This is why I don’t have a dog.)

The minute I walked into the cozy, yellow beach house with my twin sister, Joy, on Friday, all was at peace.
(We were the last to arrive, and were greeted by a large spread of tacos and fajitas. Boys would never have prepared that. They probably would have served bacon, or fried bacon. Or bacon bits.)

We played catch-up on the screened in porch, with hilarious stories of dating, outings and gossip.
We played cards, we made a list of things we wanted to do that weekend (which was a whole lotta nothing) and no one talked about work. It was glorious.

The girls of Kappa Schnappa are also really happy with life at the moment (see: cool ass bitches) and the weekend was never once riddled with boy drama. We actually hardly ever talked about boys unless it was to point out the cute ones on the beach. (Playing football, of course.)

It may be hard to understand why Joy and I drove two hours away to another beach to relax when we live 15 minutes away from one.

It’s because there was refreshingly nothing. to. do. Nothing to worry about, except what to eat for dinner.
No answering the phone, no checking the mail, no working out a plan for the weekend. There wasn't even a thought as to the horrible state of our garden at home.


Our loose agenda for Saturday


It didn’t matter than some of us stayed on the beach longer in the afternoon to finish reading our trashy magazines (Poor Heidi, y’all!) or others ate an early lunch, or took an early nap, or went kayaking in the little marsh/pond out front.
We didn’t care what we looked like, no one was embarrassed to be in a bikini all weekend and we showered outdoors.
We didn’t even have to drive anywhere. The beach house is within walking distance of the ocean.

Do we go to the beach house because we are happy or are we happy because we go to the beach house?
I think we should go back immediately and ponder this.



Now, I know this sounds like an excerpt from the Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood or that weird Traveling Pants book I've never read, so I'll sass it up a bit: We also drank a lot of a moonshine and some of us maybe kissed some beach boys (I’ll never tell) and most of us got heavily burned by the sun in the rear end area.

But no one played with a football.


Kappa Schnappa 2010!!

-Jenny