Neighbor came over and told me that the chandelier lighting ceremony was stupid, as we knew it would be. Because nothing says provincial-as-heck like having a "World's Largest" something. We drank High Lifes and ate egg rolls and laughed, and I can't remember what genius ideas we came up with now but they were genius, for sure.
Sportsball was rained out, but some good folks had us over for a cookout and we listened to bluesy whiteboy music of the best kind (Zeppelin maaaan) and then there was frisbee-throwing at the park and me and Tangerine took off because she wasn't feeling good and chilled by the beach for a bit because the sunset was gorgeous and talked about the general confusion of growing up and getting older, and realizing that our tendencies aren't always healthy. I guess it's good to know these things though I would have thought we'd have more figured out by now.
I got all sappy watching everyone laugh and eat good potluck food together, because we all come from such different places and are together here with God and mutual friendship in common. Some of us had normal suburban existences and others grew up in crackhouses and shelters but we're all eating together, celebrating together, laughing together, everyone's kids are running around together and it feels so beautiful and right.
Neighbor and I wandered down to the lake and up the street for pizza and coffee, sat at tables outside overlooking the street and realizing we look like a pair of damn hipsters with our lattes and band shirts, before wandering back down to the lake to watch the sunset and snarking about overly earnest causes that seek to remedy the inevitability of human nature. Life is strange and beautiful.