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Ah. Sometimes I might think I could belong to the beach.

Another rare visit to the beach as family outing yesterday. And I feel blessed. I find myself missing everything about the beach. When we were driving there I couldn’t help but to crack my head about what to do when we reach there because, 1. Dad is probably too old to play, 2. Mommah is selectively active on different days, 3. The dongsaeng has his one-man show, 4. For the past times I just walk/run around and wait for dad to ask whether we’re hungry. This time I must have matured a little bit more to be appreciative of the beach things.

The sand tempts to give it a shot, have a good run on me. So I did. The first 3 metres were good, but it gets straining on your legs because your feet sinks in at every step. I reached a breakwater with a guy lying on his back reading documents. A couple doing what a couple would do. I wanted to climb up there too but I was barefooted; there might be rusts on the rocks, so.

I spent around an hour trying to do skipping stones, because there were so many many rocks that are handsized and pretty and unique and how else can you actually describe rocks? The most I could do was 1 skip. If the elder brother was there he would have done 5 skips and showed me some sort of technique. I have decided to start a rock collection. Not those that are studied and get their scientific names labelled- ah no, I will myself deem the rock pretty and collect it. Because I found 3 really nice ones. Eventually when we left in a hurry because the drizzle was getting heavier I left my rocks there too.

I had some good bonding time with the dongsaeng I realised I love him so much. Times when I hate him are actually when I let myself be mean to him. Ah, guilt. It really depends on whether I wake up grumpy or see him in a good mood. He probably gets cautious everytime and perhaps secretly hoorays when I play along with him. Yesterday the vibe was up because he delighted me by spelling government, after I had another impatient experience at the tuition. And he likes it that I was singing the old chinese song (because Kyu sang it so heavenly that I got hooked) And he joined me too throwing rocks.

I missed getting dirty and sweaty and uncomfortable with sand in your garments and undergarments and trying not to let your pants get wet, but really not caring about that when you step into the water. I missed stinking of sweat and seawater and dealing with sand in your shoes when you get home. The beach is about the only place I want to disregard my worries about cleanliness,.. but when the dongsaeng chewed on his chicken and litttle chicken shreds drop into the water basic instinct pulls you out of there. Gosh I love dad’s original potato-green apple-cucumber-egg salad (all my fave stuff) but it would’ve been a thousand times better with thousand island rather than mayo.

Spent a good long night introducing Han stuff to the dongsaeng who showed extra interest (!) which came as a shock to my family that I let him sit on my bed and meddle with my computer ‘she said you can sit here?’..um, I should treat him better.. Of course he identifies ‘the fatty’ first. Anyone does, Ha Ha. Still my dearest dancegenius shines the brightest..!

Horrifyingly. I dreamt last night that I was alone watching him die. And I didn’t run to save him. And I didn’t at least shout so that people around might save him/that he might remember that his sister actually shouted for him. Argh. God, what’s this supposed to mean? I mean, I do suppose I am absolutelypositively sure what God’s telling me here.

I’m a crazycow.

You will just fall in love.