Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical (hermionesviolin) wrote,
Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical

Tuesday, the Fourth of July (2006)

I fell asleep the first time I went to bed last night (c. 2:15).  And I woke up at a civil hour (c. 8:30).  (Which gives one so much more time in one's day off.)

I'm having my period.  Plus I think the humidity is higher than it has been.  I was v. glad to spend time in the ac-ed Galleria.  (Which, btw, not intuitive from Lechmere.  But a whole passel of people got off so I followed them, and my trust was not misplaced.)

I got some shirts at Sears.  I was so tired of trying on clothes, though, that then I just got lunch and sat outside in the light rain and read while my tummy settled.  (Sakiko Japan, Vegetarian D'lite -- $3.09 + 0.45 for fried rice... v. filling, though it tasted like there was peanut sauce which I thought they should have warned for.)

It was more sunny humid when I came back to my apartment.  Le sigh. So glad to be going back to work in the ac.

I was totally gonna do laundry now that I'd done all my long weekend shopping, but it was closed* :(  I disapprove. 
*As was most everything else.  Broadway was so much quieter than usual.

I seem to have acquired a whole lot of errands to do... after 4 days of doing stuff.  Does that seem right to you?

I wrote my last Fireworks ficlet:
+ HP, Hermione/McGonagall, 498 words [8:34pm]

Oh!  In the ladies room at South Station around noon, guess who I saw?  The girl from the Franklin GSA!  (Whose name totally escapes me, unfortunately.  And here I was sure I'd LJed it.  Jamie?)  She said her friends were waiting for her to go to the Hatch Shell, so she couldn't stay, but we did the mutual "good to see you" thing.

I'm really not big on societally obligated days of thinking/feeling anything (also known as: holidays) and obviously patriotic stuff is even more complicated.  But in the interest of getting some air, I went to see the fireworks tonight.  I haven't been in years -- since really it makes much more sense to watch them on tv.  I had a good view, and while the fireworks didn't blow me away, I was reminded of how much I enjoy fireworks.  Like, they just make me happy.

I got to Charles around 9:30 and the sky was red hazy which I don't understand but really liked.  I found some space at one of the bridge posts and read fanfic while I waited.  I actually had a pretty good view, and was standing near people who were appreciative of the fireworks.  The wind was blowing in our direction, so that was a bit painful at times, but all in all it was good.  (The finale didn't particularly impress me -- I mean, the whole thing was good, I'd just been expecting the finale to be a serious step up from the rest and it wasn't.  I was impressed by the cube fireworks as far as the "how do they do that?" factor, but aesthetically they wouldn't have been my top choice.  I loved the purplish reddish ball one.)  Afterward, I watched the cloud moving toward the bridge and then blowing over the train tracks.  And there were some smaller fireworks sets, which was nice.  It didn't seem like _that_ huge a number of people on the bridge, but at 11:20 there was still a line to get on the Red Line.

Ari recced John McCutcheon's "Our Flag Was Still There" (scroll down here for .mp3).

My mom e-mailed me:
On this weekend's July 4th episode of Praire Home Companion, they did poetry reading, and Meryl Streep read "What I learned from my mother." I love that poem, and it always brings me to tears.


I was proud to hear this poem that I thought was obscure read by Meryl Streep, Famous Person (who was quite lovely on the show).
She quoted part of the poem in her e-mail and bolded the part that goes "and once you know how to do this, you can never refuse."  I don't think the power of that line ever really hit me the previous times I've read the poem.  One could talk religious or political and even weave in post-"Chosen", but I'm just going to let the poem be.

weather.com says it's 73F with 87% humidity.
Tags: fanfic: fireworks: 2006, poem: what i learned from my mother

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