Continuing on with my weekend. So, Friday night started out innocently enough. After we got ready, four of us made a run to Jamba Juice. This served a triple purpose: 1) nourishment; 2) a refillable closed container; 3) a good mixer, if you chose to go down that path. Jambas in hand, we set out for the parties. First, we stopped at the home of our esteemed comrade Steve. He was having a party on his roof, complete with a BBQ and a keg. Whee! We spent a few hours there, then moved onto the various parties on the strand. Walking the strand on the 4th is very interesting. There is so much to see: people wearing crazy outfits, men & women wearing next to nothing, and, of course, people getting arrested. In our 13 block walk, we managed to see four arrests. One guy was not happy about getting arrested, and was doing everything in his drunken power to escape from the police. He kept screaming, “DON’T HURT ME!” while he would twist his body around in a position that would make contortionists cringe. He thought that all of us onlookers were on his side, but alas, he was mistaken. He was our entertainment, and nothing more. Of course, we were also trying to avoid the cops, not quite certain that our Jamba Juice cups were inconspicuous enough. We were appreciative to the belligerent arrestees for distracting a fair amount of police personnel. After some hemming, hawing, and bathroom time, our group splintered. Half went back to Steve’s, while the rest of us went back to my apartment. There, we enjoyed Margaritas and Cotton Candy, which I made while wearing my ‘fro wig. We also engaged passersby on the sidewalk three stories below us in a friendly game of “Here Comes a Water Balloon!” It was very hot, so almost everyone was happy to get hit with a water balloon…except the one couple in their car, but since they weren’t technically hit with the balloon, we knew they couldn’t do anything. However, we decided it would be a good idea to leave our apartment, so we headed next door to BBQ and hang out some more. When it got dark, we went down to the beach to watch the fireworks. Now. If you have never had a near-death experience, you have never watched fireworks from the beach in Hermosa. The city of Hermosa Beach doesn’t set off fireworks themselves – you have to hope it’s a clear night, then you can see the displays from Redondo Beach, Palos Verdes, and Marina Del Rey. The residents of Hermosa Beach, however, take matters into their own hands: not content to rely on the weather Gods, every year they drive to Mexico to buy their own fireworks, and they set them off with abandon as soon as the sun goes down. The three times I have watched fireworks in Hermosa, I have had fireworks explode on the sand 10 feet away from me, watched a guy set himself on fire, and had a lit amber land on my head. Why do I keep going to the beach to watch, you might ask? Because usually, I am not in my right mind when I’m watching fireworks. Okay, that’s not true. All three years, I’ve actually sobered up in time for fireworks. I’m just too lazy to drive anywhere to watch them, and I LOVE fireworks! It was fun to sit on the sand with my friends and Mike and watch this year’s display. It was very pretty. Dana and I also treated everyone within a 20 foot radius to our library of patriotic songs. We knew all three verses to “My Country ‘Tis of Thee!” I didn’t get to show off all of “This Land is Your Land,” however, because Woodsy threatened me with death. Good times, good times. Saturday was just as fun. We had yummy breakfast at Sharkeez, and then ventured to the beach where we laid in the sun with 85,000 of our closest friends. It really was fun, though, there were about 10 of us, and we had a football, volleyball, and paddleball, so we had a lot to do. When the heat of the sun got to be too much, we went back up to our apartments to get ready for another BBQ/birthday party. We WERE the party, baby! I upheld the standards for female shot gunners around the world, while Danielle treated everyone to pole dances. We left the party to go dancing, but I didn’t stay for long because I started to feel sick. Which brings me up to Sunday, yesterday and today. On Sunday I laid on the couch all day, coughing and trying not to swallow. I hate having a sore throat. I went to Mike’s house in the evening, and we had Chinese food (lots of soup) and hung out. He took good care of me, and wasn’t grossed out by my coughing, which is really nice considering he is sick, too! Yesterday and today I have been a SLUG. I’ve got a huge weekend coming up, so I have to get better by Friday at the latest. No time for being sick!