I got dragged into the frey of people who hoot and holler on the 4th of July. I don't know what it is about holidays and hooting (although, I suppose it has something to do with beer). But from my apartment that looks out onto an alley (lovely, I know) and that is subject to the incredibly loud sound of whatever goes down that street (the sound ricochets through the alley), hooting is all I hear on the 4th of July (it's usually along the lines of "Woohoo, I'm fucking drunk! It's fucking 4th of July"...or something equally unoriginal).

In the past, I've maintained a condescending distance from the hoards of people who run around the block parties in my hood in a mad half-drunk frenzy. In my life paradigm, the days of drinking beer on a lawn in front of a large unfurnished house are long over (by senior year in college, to be exact). But, apparently, in this neck of the wods (aka, Land of the Single Middle Aged White Man...with a few younger folks thrown in) fraternity style of partying is alive and well. So when my half-drunk frenzied friends called me out of my cave, this afternoon, I decided to join them and celebrate Independence day by conforming. It wasn't too bad. I ran into someone from work and met some very interesting drunk people. But let's just say that the people you meet at a beach party in LA where drinking started at 10:00 am on the 4th of July, aren't exactly in the market for witty conversation. I also saw a magnificent display of fireworks...the point is, I got out of my apartment.

I also proclaimed my independence with a commitment to blog more openly about my personal life (or lack thereof...more likely).

Just for today, I celebrate my freedom and independence by being social.