Work was a bit stressful for me today so I kept my afternoon low key. Having a comical tan line from months of walking in shorts and a tank top–I decided to scope out Ala Moana Beach proper just beyond the Magic Island.
I spent about an hour on the beach, turning every 15 minutes until I couldn’t stand how bored I was; I opted to not swim today because I didn’t want any bacteria to get into my huge blister from last night. (I may have Googled whether I can go in the ocean today for so long that it had me convinced that flesh-eating bacteria would take my entire foot.) Because I couldn’t swim, I was insanely hot in addition to being bored. So I walked around in my swimming suit, collecting Pokemon (shut it) and watching people surf. I lost track of time a little bit, but I estimate I only walked around for about half an hour.
Despite spending only an hour and a half (maybe an hour and 45, factoring in travel time) in the sun, my hilariously white areas turned excruciatingly red. Apparently Hawaii is six inches from the sun, so I’ll keep that in mind going forward. I mean, in my mind I’m not officially at the beach until I’ve had a sunburn, so on day six: I have arrived. And everything hurts.
We met up with even more new friends at Yard House, where our 25-minute wait for a table turned into an hour. By this point, my sun exposure was hitting me like a ton of bricks and I thought I was going to pass out, which at least saved us beer money as I guzzled something like five glasses of water before and during dinner. I opted for a side of sweet potato fries (delicious, btw), hoping all that potassium and salt would help with my sunburn/nausea and it must have worked because I felt fine when we left the restaurant two and a half hours after we got there. Did I mention there were TWO entire soccer teams there when we arrived? It was a long, but enjoyable, dinner though.