Thar She Blows!!

I have a dilemma.

Tomorrow, despite my best judgment, I will be heading to the Jersey Shore for a few hours to soak up the sand, sun, and - most likely - AIDS from the hypodermic needles that litter the shores.

Now - there are two kinds of people out there (and by "out there" I pretty much mean the tri-state area because, according to us, we're the only people that count): 1) people who go to the beach, and 2) people who go to the mountains. I am, BY FAR, a mountain person. Shade, cool breezes, and social isolation are right up my alley, as are the activities that can be done in said mountains (like horseback riding, backpacking, and....extra-cirricular tent activities. Giggidy).

However, since riding around on a 1500-lb animal 6 feet off the ground or trudging 15 miles with 50 lbs on your back is generally frowned upon when one is "in a condition," I'll be turning to the shore for my recreation this summer. God help me. God help us all.

The Jersey Shore is not for the faint of heart. It's crowded. It's noisy. It's dirty, and it's full of fat people in teeny, tiny bathing suits. I've also heard there's something called a "Snookie" at the Jersey Shore. I don't really know what it is, but I've heard it's squat, round, loud, and the color of a Dorito. All of these elements terrify me, as they should any rational human being. Why people flock to the Jersey Shore year after year to spend their hard-earned two weeks of vacation packed like sardines on a swath of beach no larger than my yard, getting elbowed by some fat, greasy man named "Carl" and getting sand kicked in their face by his two adorable little monsters who have just run through their 3' x 3' beach camp is beyond me. ESPECIALLY when there are beautiful mountains (well, hills) within a few hours' drive. Okay, so the mountains may have dirt. And bugs. And bears. And mountain folk. But at least they won't be blasting their radios and sunning their goods within arms reach (although I hear the bears have become quite liberal these days).

Nonetheless, I have decided that the beach is a more appropriate place for me this summer, what with the lounging and eating and such. And these days, I sure do enjoy lounging and eating.
BUT...(and we finally get to the heart of my problem)...my maternity suit has not yet been delivered. Meaning that the only thing between me and the world will be a hot little two-piece designed for someone significantly *less* pregnant than I.

And so brings forth a question as old as time itself: Should a pregnant woman bear her belly in a skimpy bikini, or should she cover that shit up.

Part of me is proud of my belly. Knowing what I went through to get these twins, I kind of feel entitled to walk around in my impregnated state. However, I'm also considerate enough to recognize that others may not appreciate my hardships, OR the miracle of life, preferring instead for a view that is not obstructed by a walking host and her parasites.

I also have a distinct fear that a sailor with one leg will get a view of my pale, engorged stomach and try to harpoon me to avenge his leg.

"THAR SHE BLOWS!!!!"

And I'll have to be all, "Bitch, I ain'tcho white whale"
And he'll be all , "Arrrggghh, ready yer lances, fellas"

And then I'll have to go all Jersey Shore on his ass, and summon the dreaded beast Snookie to smote him. It'll be ugly, and we may get our beach tags revoked. Not good.

So what do you think, people?
Show the goods, or allow people to keep their lunches down?