Navarre Beach Spring Break
All my life I’ve watched other people go on spring break beach vacations without me, so I wasn’t going to feel one bit sorry about posting updates of me basking in the Florida sun and surf this week while 90% of my friends and family are living above the new North American permafrost line.
Though spring temperatures had finally arrived in Arkansas last week, I drove to the gulf coast as if a blizzard were at my back, eager to discard as many garments as local law permits and let the full UV spectrum soak into my bones.
Except that spring must have gotten pulled over for driving drunk somewhere around the Louisiana state line, or else we lost it when my mom’s GPS navigator detoured us to the not-so-scenic scenic route of backwoods Alabama for two hours. Either way, spring has been nowhere to be seen since we got to Navarre. If I knew where to direct my irate and indignant tweets, #WTFsunshinestate would be trending right now.
Good thing I packed all these breezy skirts and summery tops.
On the bright side:
The beaches aren’t crowded.
The drinks stay cold.
We need less sunscreen.
The bikini diet has been abandoned for the who-the-hell-cares diet.
(Related: I would endure any kind of weather for another lunch at Joe Patti’s in Pensacola.)
I don’t feel quite as bad that Patrick couldn’t join us. Though I still feel guilty for having to leave this guy:
I’m with my mom.
I’m with my boys.
It’s not snowing.
In fact, the sun just began shining, so we’re off to carpe the crap out of this diem.
Before the rain that’s forecast for the next two days rolls in.