What weekends are made for, and freckled skin is not.

Beach lounging, sun bathing, lake swimming, lap racing, and sunscreen, sunscreen, sunscreen. What a Saturday it was. I was invited by my roommate and her sister to make our first voyage to the beach this weekend, can you believe I almost said no?! Yeah, I almost stayed home in my kitchen to...wait for it...... paint a table. Who would even consider that but me. Beach/table painting, beach/table painting??? Is that really a debate? In the end, my diligent, "just get it finished" mind was over ruled by the "It's SUMMER and a BEAUTIFUL day" mind and we drove 45 minutes to Bolton Landing where Lake George and all its Adirondack glory awaited us.

Lake George takes my breath away. I have lived 15 minutes from it my entire life and it continues to impress me with its stunning beauty. Surrounded on all sides by the rolling peaks of the Adirondack mountains, it is filled with cool, clear water and reaches depths of over 200 feet. Not to mention the fact that it is 32 miles long and narrow enough that on a quiet night, you could yell a conversation over the peaceful waters from one shore to the other.

Saturday found the lake in top form, with azure skies reflecting on calm waters. The beach lay out before us, graciously uncluttered with tourist and their coolers. A soft breeze kissed our skin but left the sand in its rightful spot, below our feet. We set up chairs, and I began the lifelong torment of "greasing up".

I will forever consider sunscreen one of the great injustices of the world. I feel it most acutly when beaching with bronzed beauties the likes of my swimsuit model-esque friends. While they are oiling with coconut scents, I am slathering on half a bottle of the highest SPF I can get my hands on and smelling like a toddler. I will apply much more than the recommended "shot glass" full of sunscreen, (that recommendation must apply to midgets because there is no way that amount would cover the square footage I bring to the table) and will reapply diligently every hour and a half and after swimming, and after beach volleyball, and after drying off, and then probably a couple more times just for the heck of it. What kills me though (both in literal and figurative terms) is that I still get a sunburn and I am still at a higher risk for skin cancer. To add salt to the wound, higher SPFs cost more! What the hell is that? All those people who roast themselves with oil and SPF 4, 6, 8, 15, can do it for $1.50 less than those of us trying to protect ourselves with 45 and ups. There is no justice. And to boot, I go from being burnt, directly back to my pasty white, do not stop at tan, do not collect $200 dollars-self. I worry about burns in March and in July, I require a dermatologist to inspect my every freckle, and I don't even get to experience the slimming and healthy vibrance effects of a tan. For real, what gives?

But my bitterness about suncreen and fair skin aside, I had a great time at the beach. Just hanging out, and having extremely competitive swimming competitions (I swear it was neck and neck the whole way), and lounging on the beach while commenting on the inevitable hilarities of fellow beach-goers, is a splendid way to spend a saturday afternoon. The company was grand, and we stayed long enough to enjoy it, but not so long that I would have wished for a book to read. When I got home, I took a nap in my cool un-airconditioned room (thank you old victorian houses that stay cool in the summer) went to see a movie with some friends and then out for drinks, my first time out since moving to the new apartment. All in all, it was a day living a life of luxury and ease, and I hope for many more repeats as the summer shuffles along.