Monday, July 04, 2005

You bang, bang, bang, bang and bang, its not my thing so let it go....

It got humid again, so I had to turn on the a/c again, and shut all the windows. The last two days were great with little to no humidity. But it's okay, cause tonight, they'll be having fireworks, and with the windows shut and the a/c going, I might not hear them. yeah, I'm not real big on fireworks. I remember, I was only probably two or three, and my parents took me to the fireworks on the 4th. I remember my dad holding me and we went with my uncle and his girlfriend. At any rate, once the fireworks started, the bangs scared me and i started screaming. SCREAMING! They had to leave early, like almost as soon as they started, and bring me home. And we had walked there, so i remember someone carrying me back, with my hands over my ears and their one hand clasped over my one ear, the other pressed to their chest. I don't know who it was who was holding me, but I remember it. Loud noises and I have never been close friends. As a kid, well up until i was in my early teens, i was afraid of balloons. Almost phobic. I mean I'd leave whenever I saw one. Cause I knew it would pop and make a loud noise and that would scare me. It was awful at birthday parties.

I'm not afraid of fireworks or balloons now. When I was 16 and we were in Paris on Bastille Day, I watched the fireworks from the first level of the Eiffel Tower. I went to the fireworks in a nearby town about 15 years ago with a group of friends. But even though they don't scare me anymore, I still don't like them. My job on the night of the 4th, traditionally, was to stay inside with my parents dogs and hold them and calm them down from all the noises.

At times I felt like i was missing out on something, something that everyone else enjoyed. But with time, I realized I'm never gonna like them, so screw it. Someone has to watch out for the animals, don't they?
**************************************************************
Speaking of animals, I now longer have to take care of the Olympic Shot-Pooper. My parents got back this afternoon (and had a fine, fun trip, thanks for asking) so my responsibility to scoop the poop has ended. But I did manage to get this this morning:

This is Angel doing what she does best...or at least does a LOT of: poopin. (I didn't get a close up or anything, didn't want to gross anyone out...toooo much).

***********************************************************

the deviled eggs turned out pretty good. Although they are missing something, they don't taste like Mama Shockey's or my cousin Brian's (who likes them like I do), but they're still good. I had trouble getting the yellow stuff into the eggs, so they weren't terribly aesthetically pleasing, but they tasted okay. Take a look for yourself:


As I said, not much to look at, I'll grant you, but they tasted okay. I guess on subsequent tries I can be more careful about the placement of the yellow stuff.

***********************************************************

Got an email from someone-who-shall-remain-nameless, asking me about the titles of my posts. Why I chose them and where they come from. I thought it was pretty obvious, but apparently it's not. So, they are all lines from songs, and they all have something, no matter how obscure, with something I'm talking about in the post. Should anyone have questions about a title (like where it came from, or why I chose it) feel free to drop me a commment and I'll explain.

POLT

We all want something beautiful. Man, I wish I was beautiful. - Counting Crows, Mr. Jones

No comments: