And Suddenly a Beach Pass is a Big Deal
The Wedding Date wants to know if I’m a beach person—not because he’s planning some sort of mid-winter, Caribbean getaway (at least not as far as I know), but because he’s trying to decide whether or not to buy a beach pass for the summer.
A beach pass.
For the summer.
It’s only January—the “summer” is still six months away!
How am I supposed to make a decision about a beach pass now?
Especially because in my book, summers are meant for adventures. Adventures abroad. I’ve been emptying out my savings account for this express purpose almost every year since the summer I turned seventeen. In fact, to me, the hardest part of producing last September’s show for the Fringe was not the stress or the financial investment or the last minute choreography that left my partner and me trying to finalize our duet just minutes before going onstage.
It was the fact that I had to stay put through July and August and after teaching all year, spending the entire summer in one place almost killed me.
Unfortunately, it has since occurred to me that I kind-of, sort-of forgot to share this little habit of mine with The Wedding Date.
I told him about my friends’ wedding in Ireland—I know I did—but now that I think about it, I realize that I didn’t tell him about my plan (“my plan” being to extend my trip to Ireland into a six-week sojourn).
I haven’t bothered to tell anyone about my plan because frankly, I didn’t think anyone would care— I finish teaching at the end of June and I’ll be back before the school year starts up again—but now, evidently, there’s someone who would care. Now there’s this question of the beach pass.
And it’s not just about the beach pass: it’s about spending the summer together or not, and frankly I never even bothered to ask because I thought I already knew the answer: The Wedding Date has commitments that will keep him here over the summer and I don’t.
This isn’t the first time I’ve made this mistake. I dated an architect for about five minutes before I moved to London (okay, more like five weeks, but still: it was nothing serious). We went out a handful of times but he was stoned most of the time and still pining over an ex with whom he’d just broken up after nine years.
Call me crazy, but I didn’t really see us going anywhere.
And I certainly didn’t want to presume that he liked me enough to care that I was moving to London, so I didn’t tell him. At least not right away. When I finally confessed that I was, in fact, UK-bound, he got all upset.
“When we’re you planning to tell me?” he demanded.
“I don’t know… you’re still getting over your ex,” I stammered. “I didn’t think you wanted anything serious.” Plus, it took you ages to finally ask me out and we’re not even sleeping together and all we do is drink and play pool and usually you’re stoned the whole time!
But he was more sensitive than I’d initially given him credit for.
And so are most men for that matter, including The Wedding Date.
Which is why his mention of the beach pass sent me into a tailspin—I do not want to screw up this time.
But nor do I want to give up on the thought of going to Europe for the summer when I’ve been saving up for the past two years.
What’s a poor no-longer-single-manthropologist to do?
Related articles
- How The Wedding Date Became MY Wedding Date (fieldworkinstilettos.com)
- The End, the Beginning and a Question from The Wedding Date (fieldworkinstilettos.com)
- Adventures in Cardio (and Compromise) with The Wedding Date (fieldworkinstilettos.com)
Fieldwork in Stilettos 
14 Responses to “And Suddenly a Beach Pass is a Big Deal”
Six weeks is not the whole summer; keep your plans, let him know, and send him post cards and love letters while you’re away. I know what suppressing the travel bug does to a person, and trust me — it will be better for both of you if you go. 🙂
Do this, but the opposite:
Awwww! That totally made me tear up! Why didn’t you warn me to watch this PRIVATELY and not at the coffee shop? LOL 🙂
Six weeks is way longer than the summer, well in Ireland at least.
As much as I agree with Katie, I’d say why not split the difference? Ask him to meet you for a week (or at least a few days) half-way through your trip?
Even my one-week trips around the holidays (there have been two since dating Ms. D) were hard. I wanted her to be there, but I didn’t want to give up my travel, something I highly value at this point in my life. There were times I was very sad without her, but I had to keep reminding myself that ,even if I was home she wouldn’t be available 24/7.
And I should add the obvious (obvious because I’m sure you know this):
Part of being in a relationship is compromising. You shouldn’t have to feel bad about doing what you want, especially not this early in, but it’s okay to do something other than you’ve always done/planned because your feelings have changed. No one’s going to fault you (regardless of your decisions), and if they do, they’re not worth your time and attention.
I know, I know…
You can go for 3 weeks or a month and then its not as big a deal. Can he meet you for just a week in the middle of your trip?
Go… travel… enjoy yourself… you are DATING. Absence makes the heart grow fonder… I agree with Tech Support. Casually suggest that the money he might spend on a beach pass might be put towards meeting you overseas…
Take the leap. A Beach pass is not a wedding ring… you are still safe. Yes leads to more possiblities than no.
BTW, I watched your segment on GMA. You are adorable! I love the way you tiltled you head when you spoke. If have nice bridal swag girlie! 🙂
Hmmm… I like bit about the difference between “yes” and “no.” 🙂
And thanks!
What exactly is a beach pass?
Is it really a ticket that allows you to go on the beach?
See if you go to Ireland and the UK you do not have to pay for the beaches so he can save that money and put it towards the trip.
Of course I assume that WD probably does not get the same amount of time off in the summer as you do.
Well, as much as I love the UK, I will say this: our beaches are way better, which is why yes, many require that you purchases a pass.
[…] suddenly, as I sat on the couch contemplating the thought of a beach pass, the prospect of going to Europe started to lose a bit of its appeal. Not only would a trip […]