yesterday, i celebrated my independence. i rolled out of bed when i couldn’t stay in bed any longer, i baked a pan of brownies and ate one for breakfast, and i lazed about in my pajamas until well after noon.
we sought air-conditioned spaces later and ended up at the two-story target and the movies. throughout my childhood i just assumed everything was closed on the fourth of july, because i never left the house. all the action took place on our block: barbeque in the backyard, sparklers on the driveway, fireworks display at the high school up the street. i had no idea that so many people went shopping and saw movies and ate out.
at home, we made ice cream sandwiches and sat in front of the fan and complained about the heat. after she left, i forced myself up and out of the house. past the lake, across the river, up a few hills and over to felix’s, where the party had been all day long. there was a jam session going on: U2 and nirvana and crowded house and the pretenders. in accompaniment: the distant crackling and booming of fireworks.
on the way home, i sang teenage fanclub songs at the top of my lungs and gawked at the colors exploding in every direction. i came home and kept singing, dancing barefoot on the hardwood floors, making a total and utter fool of myself because nobody else was home.