My childhood playground

"Dirty Jersey," "The armpit of America." I could care less about the nicknames assigned to the state of New Jersey. To me Jersey is a place of wonderful childhood memories: carefree running around, beach sisters, huge holes dug in the sand, crepe-paper decorated bicycles, parades, ice cream trucks, sandcastles, mini-golf, moving tides, fishing, dance routines, surries, Indian poker, librarian, shell in hole, hammocks, and walks on the beach.
Now, over a decade after those annual summer days at the beach house I was able to return to my childhood playground. Wonderful is the word I would choose to describe it. It would seem that we packed a lot into a day, but it was all done in a leisurely style. I brought 6 friends along with me via Philly Car Share to experience the shore at Beach Haven, Long Beach Island. We laid out on the beach, built a sandcastle, buried one of us, swam in the ocean, played mini golf, BBQ'ed, and to top the day off we went to Show Place, a musical ice cream parlor where the waiters match the wallpaper (aka - the best place in the world).

Another thing I noticed while returning to my roots: these people, this environment really contributed to who I am today. This somewhat surprised me - being away for so long. But as we went around the dinner table answering questions that bordered the line between interview/curious and interrogation, I found that my beliefs very closely matched those of my parents' old friends. I am finding out more and more everyday why I am how I am.

On another note: BEACH!!!