|Dear God, what is that? We're going to die! We're going to die!|
Doesn't this look like something out of a horror film? People just swimming and surfing along on a beach, minding their own business, and a wave suddenly rears up...filled with the most diabolical looking tentacles I've ever seen.
I'm not even sure what is portrayed in this picture: seaweed or underwater trees or maybe there's a coral reef a few hundred feet out that is magnified by the water, making the arms look bigger and a lot closer than they actually are in reality.
Whatever the hell that stuff is, it's pretty creepy and terrifying to look at, and it's urged me to add another reason that I do not like beaches.
Reason number 7: there are many tentacled monstrosities lurking just beneath the surface of the water waiting to either scare the hell out of you, or drag you to the sandy depths of the ocean to be devoured like so much meat. Either way, I'm not getting in that water for love or money or the promise of a lifetime supply of chocolate.
Not no way, not no how.
Am I being unreasonable?
Did you even see that picture?
Of course I'm not being unreasonable! That's the monster from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea or some other book where there are giant sea monsters. I bet that's what the Lach Ness Monster really looks like. Between the tentacled horror, the sharks, the sand, the salt water, and everything else that was on my list that I can't remember right now, I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that I am not going to be a fan of beaches ever. Oh, did I mention the sun, as well? Well, the sun.
And it's not that I don't like the sun. Like I've said before, I'm a big fan of being warm because I'm always cold. The sun helps to warm me up. When I'm home I like to turn off all of the lights and open the blinds and curtains to let the sun stream in and light everything up, then I like to lay on the chair by the window and soak up the rays because it warm and pleasant and comforting.
I just don't like the sun when I'm standing directly in it, because it might feel nice and warm, but it only take fifteen minutes of sun exposure for my skin to burn. It's not that I'm allergic to the sunlight. I just have pale, delicate skin that isn't made to be out in direct sunlight with no protection. Beaches mean lots of direct sunlight, and 100 SPF without Vitamin A isn't easy to come by, and it's only got a four hour life span for my delicate skin. Between that and the sand, and then the evils of the water itself (still thinking about that picture) I'm just...not beach material, but you can tell that by looking at me. It's painfully obvious to my beach babe sister that I do not spend much time outside while the sun is up.
Relly made a point last week of saying, "I'd rather get skin cancer than be pale. Pale skin is ugly."
"So, I'm ugly."
"No, sister, pale skin looks beautiful on you. I just think it would look ugly on me."
I swear, the tone she used it is the same tone you'd use to assure an overweight friend that she is not fat by any stretch of the imagination.
She invited me out to the lake yesterday to hang with her and the Double L nephews, but unfortunately for her, I don't like lakes either. Lake Placid anyone? Or how about Blood Surf? Croc even? And while I certainly know most people don't react like that to bad horror movies, I am not most people. I also have a logical reason to fear alligators in our lake. There actually was an alligator farm out on Lake Travis sometime back in the eighties that had a rather unfortunate accident when six of the alligators somehow played jailbreak and won their freedom. Animal Control and Wildlife Rescue swear up and down they rounded up all of the escapees. But...maybe they didn't really catch all six and they figured the last one would die and then it had babies. Or maybe seven escaped and they didn't realize it.
Either way, I don't like lakes any more than I like beaches. Lakes have rocks instead of sand, which is less annoying in the gets everywhere factor, but is just as annoying in the you-have-to-wear-water-shoes-or-be-in-pain kind of way. Those are you choices: wear water shoes and look like a dork, or go barefoot and walk over rocks and sharp pebble until you get to the water, at which point you'll have to stick your feet in the muddy, sticky, foot-sucking bottom. Which is actually less pleasant than sand. Sand under your feet in water feels nice. Not so with sticky, yucky, goopy mud.
"Well, we can go to the pool if you don't want to go to the lake," she offered.
Yeah. Swimming pools. We know my illogical fear of sharks appearing in the middle of the water while I'm swimming. Also, I don't like chlorine, and I don't want it on my hair. I certainly don't want it on my skin. And I don't like crowds, which is something you tend to find at public pools. No incentive there.
Let's not get this confused though: I am not afraid of the water itself. I'm perfectly fine in the water. I can go up to my knees if I feel so inclined. I can go in to my waist if the water is clear enough for me to see through. My fear if of what's in the water. I can swim. I can float on my back. I don't mind deep water if I know for a fact that there's nothing in there, and I'm pretty OK until the idea of a shark appearing pops into my head.
I should really see a shrink about this...
But then again...I'm not to the point where I'm afraid to sit on a toilet seat in case a shark swims up the pipe and decides to bite my ass, so I'm not as bad off as other people.
Edit: I now have another reason to hate beaches. Severe Jellyfish infestations.