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| I didn't take any 4th of July pictures, so I made this crappy drawing of fireworks for you. I know. YOU'RE WELCOME. |
I was going to write a post about how this 4th
of July was super meaningful and monumental in my growth as a mature, self-confident,
all-around-badass and woman (and it was)—but let’s face it: that shit is really
boring and emotional. And I just don’t feel like that’s the way I want this
post to go.
4TH OF JULY is a time for eating grilled food,
drinking copious amounts of beer (or, in my case, wine from a box) and blowing
shit up. It’s about excitement and happiness and ‘Murica and freedom and bald
eagles riding on rockets piloted by Uncle goddamned Sam himself.
It is not a time for explosions of sentimental emotion and
personal reflection.
Which means here’s what you need to know about my 4th
of July: I got to spend it doing what I wanted to do, which meant that I found
myself on a Chicago rooftop, drinking, dancing, and laughing with friends, listening to
music, eating vegetarian hot dogs, and filling up a kiddie pool.
Have you ever seen fireworks with a panoramic view that
stretched for miles on a rooftop in Chicago?
If the answer is yes:
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| Right?! |
If the answer is no:
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| I'm so...so sorry for you. |
Next year, find a
rooftop so that you can watch thousands of fireworks (and dollars, really)
explode across the entire horizon for hours on end. (Pay special attention to
Indiana and the suburbs. Those folks know how to party.)
If I had one complaint about this 4th it would
only be this: when you spend it on a rooftop, there are ladders. And unfortunately for me I had been having
some issues and decided to drink some Smooth Move tea the night before. (I’ll
let you figure out what that tea is good for. You’re smart enough.)
Wine + Smooth Move Tea + SO MANY LADDERS = a very cumbersome
situation.
Wine + Smooth Move Tea + SO MANY LADDERS + one very cold and lonely leftover hotdog = I'm so sorry, L, but I dropped my hotdog on your bed halfway up the first ladder. Don't worry, I came back down for it...but...my half-eaten hotdog was in your bed for a hot minute.
And I laughed alone about it for like 5 full minutes while looking down from that ladder.
Anyways...'MURICA!!!
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