(no subject)

I wish I could go see some fireworks.

I can see some out our office window as I type this. In fact, I went over earlier and saw what I guess were at least three or four fireworks shows, all spaced out on the horizon from north to south.

But it's not the same as actually being outside, feeling the breeze, hearing the ear-popping noise, smelling the black powder as a cloud of fumes hangs in the air. I haven't actually been to see fireworks in ... I don't know, actually. I don't remember. I don't remember a Fourth since I started working when I didn't have to work.

It's not like it's a huge deal -- as holidays go, I'd rather be off for Christmas or Thanksgiving. But still, I miss it. I wanna go be a kid and sit on the grass or just stand somewhere gaping upward, going "ooh" and "aah."

But I did get to do something, at least, to celebrate the Fourth. I went to a picnic this morning with Steve that one of his friends hosted. It was the most carnivorous picnic I've ever been to, but y'know, it's the Fourth -- it's all about the meat, copious amounts of it charring on a barbecue grill. At least that part of the day felt like I was doing it right, like I was actually experiencing the holiday like normal people.