Saturday, July 5, 2008

Happy 4th of July

When I FINALLY moved out on my own, I found this cute little apartment on the first floor of a cute little house. It was 450 square feet. I really liked it there. There were these big huge picture windows in the living room/dining room/kitchen area that made it all nice and sunshiny all year long. I had a full basement and an enclosed back porch. I had a nice front porch to sit on. There was a baseball/soccer field across the street, and swings, and a park, and I could not get renter’s insurance because it was so close to the water. There was a marina down the street, and a pier, and all kinds of fun hang around outside, nice neighbors type stuff going on. I am so glad for myself that when I got up the nerve to be on my own I was lucky enough to find such a good place. I made a nice home for myself. It was clean, and organized, and it was me.

It took me some time to decompress from living with and dealing with my family. Eventually I came to enjoy spending time with my parents, and my relationships with them changed. One of the neat things about my apartment was that all that water so close to the house just happened to be where the barges docked to shoot off fireworks every year. One year, I got a little woozy on Long Island iced tea and learned I could actually see the fireworks while lying in my bed. Every year I lived there, except the one my parents died, I had my family and a few friends over. It was fun.

We made insane nuisances of ourselves in the best possible way. All my neighbors got to know my family and friends, and to look forward to visiting with them too. Everybody else’s guests kinda mixed in with us. We had dogs and cats and kids, and all kinds of fun. We played dorky games and made Jell-O based monstrosities that tasted delicious. I talked to all kinds of strange men. We would all eventually get a bit tipsy and run around in the street with open bottles of beer and glasses of various concoctions. Every year at least one of my goody-two-shoes friends got admonished by the police about public drunkenness. Here where we live you cannot be on public property and have open alcoholic beverages. We would quickly scurry back onto my lawn, and tell the policemen how much we love them. I distinctly remember telling them one year that they were not only the finest, but that they also had FINE Asses. My father thought this was hilarious.

The fireworks were always awesome. I really like the kind that go up very high, and then explode in a waterfall of colors. They would go on for about forty-five minutes. We would all ooh and ah, and jump up and down. It was fun to hang out with people who love me, and just look at the fireworks, and people watch. . In all that time, I never did figure out how to get a good picture of the fireworks. I have hundreds of shots that look like I forgot to take off the lens cap. I got spoiled rotten for good fireworks. I do not think I will every go see any again, unless I get the opportunity to live on the water and watch them from my own yard. I miss the party. I miss the people.