Dad was supposed to visit again today (at least that's what he told mom yesterday -- that he was going to stop in on his way to Nashville and buy me dinner). Why I actually expected him to, I have no idea. Everyone who honestly believes that I'm really a pessimist take note -- I only pretend to be. Mom wishes she could come visit but she can't afford it (gas). So I feel bad.

If I was a true pessimist, I'd have given up on life all together by now. But I hold hope for things I fear will never happen. Without hope, what's the point in continuing on?

Did you all go see fireworks last night? I did. I like fire -- and big booms that echo off the buildings around you. I like the ones that swirl up into the air and leave a corkscrew comet trail behind them. And the ones that split into tons of little fireworks -- one big shot that separates into at least 30 smaller flower explosions. And the ones that radiate a ring of sparks around them. Oh and the ones that don't do a flower, but a clutter of sparks that randomly wiz around -- like fireflies or a physics animation showing the behavior of electrons. I might just like them all.

Growing up we always shot our own. We'd have like 20 or 30 dollars and drive out to one of the fireworks trailers and buy bags and bags of all our favorites. We never waited till midnight -- it was like opening present on Christmas: "Please can't we just shoot ONE." We did this every 4th and New Years Eve. Of course it's very dangerous -- I don't argue that. But isn't that part of the fun? My brother caught my jacket on fire one year. A whistlin' dixie blew up in moms hand. Dad got shot with a bottle rocket. It's all in good fun ;)

This year I watched from the mall parking deck. It rained -- so I got plenty soaked -- but at least they shot the fireworks anyway.


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