I wish I could give this beach a prettier name than just Long Beach. However, that's what it is. It's a spit of sand that sticks out like a straw into the Long Island Sound. There's a small airport at one end thats really just a small tower and a parking lot of just a handful of colorful Grumman Tigers. I'm actually thinking about taking lessons and getting my private pilots license there in the fall but it's awfully expensive and I'm panicking about my savings. I've been in CT working for about 4 months and have only saved about half of what I thought I'd have by now. Yikes. I really have to lock it down now. Although these pictures are blurry so maybe I really need to invest in some photography classes...
Anyway, on my way out of the spit you drive by some pastel beach houses and I fought it, but my creep nature came out and I took a picture of my favorite one. I like to imagine I live there and that I also drive a creamy yellow 1960's VW bug. In this scenario I am also super tan and my hair is way longer and whips out the window of my bug. Aaaanyway, someday when I decide to actually settle down and have a house I want it to be purple like this one. The picture doesn't do it justice. That front wooden screen door has little moons carved out. The whole foundation is that stone and it just looks like the type of house where sand can get tracked in from the beach and there is the constant slapping of screen doors.
After I went all Swimfan at the beach, I came home, put on my favorite purple batik African dress, put a fat turquoise ring on my pointer finger, poured myself a wine glass of lemonade, and sat back in our living room and began my new book about a white girl growing up in the Congo. Simple pleasures!
