folk songs

So. I have been a bit hesitant to write about anything lately because I haven't had any story logs to feed the blog fire.

For the past several months, my life has consisted of little other than books, music, movies, work, food and sleep. most likely in that order. and, apart from my weekend trips into the lively bosom of orange county, i have had very little human contact. I'm still trying to figure out if that suits me.

The 4th of July was, obviously, a few days ago, and while I was initially indifferent towards the day's activities, it ended up being quite memorable for me. The day began with my phone being dead. This plays no important role in the story I'm about to share, but I did want to touch on the subject of dead phones, while I'm here. I am not suffering from electronic gluttony, but I am quite attached to my phone and whenever i hear the swan song of my cell, i suddenly feel like i am in a cave carved out of a cliff that overlooks Antarctica and not even the penguins can hear me scream. Like previously mentioned, however, this has nothing to do with the 4th of July.

I spent the first half of the day at my Uncle Lyle's house in Corona - this is what we have been doing every 4th of July since I came to Earth. The cousin population was low, but spirits were high. The amount of barbequed chicken was overwhelming. I decided to have a hot dog, since it was a holiday, but I accidentally picked the most burnt one of the bunch, and the line for food was lengthy so there was no turning back. When I finally arrived at the couch, my chosen place of patriotic food consumption, i realized I forgot the ketchup, or any condiment, for that matter. The hot dog tasted more like an old Slim Jim and a piece of bread. I did not salute. (The Barbequed Chicken was excellent, however, and was fully consumed and appreciated.)

We ended up watching the Lion King (the extended version, with the added song, sung by Zazu), and i ate a lot of strawberries and sat next to Grandma a lot. (My word choice is major weak sauce right now. My deepest apologies.)

Okay, where was I? Ah yes. I almost went to an Angel's game, but then decided not to. I ended up going to Huntington Beach to watch the fireworks with my sister and her friend.

I used to pride myself on being sooooo familiar with Orange County in general, and Huntington Beach in particular, since it's where I attended high school, and where I frequently spend time, but this 4th of July cancelled out any sort of directional superiority i previously claimed.

It starts at 9 and we're across from the Hyatt, said she. Alright, responded I. Alright. I'll be there soon.

I parked my car approximately 2 miles from where my sister and friend were situated, unaware of how far i actually was. My Target sandals are comfortable around town, to be sure, but, when traveling by foot in a hasty fashion, are less than cooperative. 2 miles may seem like a few steps to all of you who walk a lot but at the end of my little journey I was sure my Achilles tendons had ripped apart.

The most memorable part of my entire day occured while on this 2-mile walk. If you've ever seen the movie Once - the part where the girl goes to the shop at night to buy batteries, and then walks all the way home singing along to the song on the CD player - then you know what I'm talking about. I think. It was evening, and the air was golden brown - like a dusty version of Aunt Jemima's syrup glistening everywhere. It smelled like vacation and new experiences and old memories. It was a sort of speed-people-watching. Families sat together in circles, with homemade blankets and coolers with soda and chips and enough food to last them until next July. [Side note: it's currently 2:31 am and I promise I have better descriptions of what this 2-mile walk was like but my mind is turning into minestrone. ]

I need to go to sleep. I will, maybe, finish writing about this some other time. Adieu adieu adieu.