I can't wait until this weekend.  Tomorrow, I may or may not have to come in to work.  That depends on whether or not I get the story done today that needs to be in tomorrow.  Regardless, I will only be in long enough to finish that story if I must be here. 

Tomorrow evening will be the First Friday Art Trail.  Oh, how I love touring the Depot District with my friends, viewing the art, sipping the free wine, meeting new, interesting people, and often ending up at La Diosa, Skooners...or wherever the best music happens to be.  Being the weekend of the 4th, the Art Trail will probably be amazing, especially the music part.  I'll be taking photos for Spotted, adding another element to this internship to put in my portfolio.

And then, Saturday. That glorious day of parades, street fairs, concerts, parties, and fireworks.  The last two years I've spent Independence Day in Washington D.C., situated on the National Lawn with my cousins.  Two years ago, we actually watched the concert, which featured Tony Danza, Little Richard, and Hayden Pannetiere.  Last year, we weren't interested in the stars, so instead of waiting in the long line to get to the crowded lawn right in front of the Capital, we stayed on the strip of land between the concert stage and the Washington Monument.  This was even more fun, with the vendors hawking their wares and the colors of the festivals surrounding us and the various bands playing on their stands.  And of course, the magnificent firework display behind the monument.  Amazing.

But not this year.  Nope. This year, I'm stuck in Lubbock.  But I'm still excited, because for the first time in years, I'll be able to go back to the Walkup's house.  The Walkup's were like a second family to me growing up; the boys were in Boyscouts with my brother, and many parties were spent running around the land of their lovely, mismatched country house.

I love these parties. Seeing people I haven't seen in years (or months, depending), fellowshipping, wonderful food, no alcohol, and plenty of explosive devices.  I went to their party on New Year's Eve, the first time for that in years as well.  This brings me to the real point of this blog.

Like I said...I've known these people forever; I was nine when my brother joined the Boyscout troop.  The boys I've grown up with are now college men(?).  I grew up watching them act like idiots with fireworks.  Back then, however, there was adult supervision.  Now, they are the adult supervision.  How scary is that?  The entire time at the New Year's Eve party, they were throwing fireworks into a fire pit, causing loud, dangerous explosions mere inches from where they stood. Some boys never do grow up.  Of course, I was right there with them, making sure the younger kids stood out of the way.

I can't lie; I'm looking forward to seeing what dangerous stunts they come up with this year...it's warmer than in January, so they won't be going inside as often as then.  I am definitely grateful for the lack of alcohol...that would make things much worse.