Real mood: Relief.

Okay...so this July 4th season will be known as the 4th of July of Fireworks, Fisticuffs, and Foolishness. I shall now explain why...

On the 3rd, Thursday, me, my parents, Emerald, Collin, his brother Corey, and my friend Emily got together at my house and then drove over to see the firworks on the lake. We met up with some other friends of ours as the evening went on. Between the buckets of fried chicken, chips, soda, and M&Ms that were brought along, food and drink weren't the issue. Entertainment in the form of discussions on mythology and weaponry, as well as round-robin story-time (pass a book around and everyone writes a line in order to create a story), kept us occupied until it was dark. Then, the show began.

Every year, the fireworks on the lake keep getting better and better -- I have never been disappointed by anything I've seen. Sitting at the picnic table at the waterfront, looking up, it was just awesome. With every blast, there was this shockwave that brushed the bottom hem of my jeans (figure we were maybe one hundred yards from the launch site), and my insides would twist. Later, the favorite question to ask was who else felt like their internal organs had been displaced.

Now, I personally judge a fireworks display by these three things: a) the number of birds and/or bats in the air, b) the number of children crying, and c) the number of car alarms set off. Much to my satisfaction, all the birds and bats had booked, there were dozens of frightened children, and judging by the sounds coming from the parking lot, you'd swear it was a traffic jam. In other words: one VERY kick-ass display.

BUT WAIT!! There was more!

After the show, everyone packed up and left -- or, at least we tried to. It's pretty much a given that getting out of the parking lot at the same time as everyone else is usually a pain in the neck -- especially for those morons who can't seem to understand this long-forgotten concept called PATIENCE. So, you may have to sit in the car and wait a little while until you can get out of the lot and onto the road -- you'll get home in the end eventually anyway. Well, this apparently wasn't good enough for one guy -- a middle-aged man in a green shirt -- who was stuck behind this younger guy in a white shirt trying to inch his way out of his parking spot in order to get into line and get out.

Technically speaking, from what I saw, the younger guy wasn't doing anything wrong -- he was just trying to direct his friend (behind the wheel of his car) into the line so that he wouldn't hit anyone. The middle-aged man in the green shirt was just being pissy. Finally, the man in the green shirt grabbed the younger guy (literally PICKED HIM UP) and threw him out of the way so he own car and can move ahead. This is when everything moved out of my line of sight (I was sitting in the back of Dad's truck), and the younger guy defended himself.

As I've already said, I didn't see the fight -- I only heard the occasional, "FIGHT!! FIGHT!!" or, "KICK HIS ASS!!" or, "Someone call the police!" The guy in the green shirt then got his own ass handed to him by the younger, fitter individual -- the middle-aged man was helped back to his own car at a stagger by his frinds. Once it all settled down, the park rangers arrived to take down accounts and whatnot, and by that time, we were finally able to get ourselves out and on the road. We eventually arived home about forty-five minutes later after what was, for all intents and purposes, an EXTREMELY entertaining evening.

The next day, I ran errands with Mom, and afterwards she dropped me off at Collin's for a visit. The purpose of said visit was supposed to be a musical scavenger hunt, specifically for Nightwish tracks which I did not have. Funnily enough, we didn't get around to that: we ended up drooling over the newest NERF gun models and watching videos online together. Between those, I watched him play Soul Caliber III -- which, in a sense, provided some much-needed inspiration for melee scenes.

Then, later that same evening, we came back to my place for dinner, and during our discussion about what to do with ourselves for the rest of the evening, Collin proposed having a campfire, whereoup my dad gave him leave to take the hatchet so he go split wood. That proved to be a mistake.

Long story short, Collin ended up cutting himself with the hatchet -- not severely, mind you, but just bad enough to warrant three stitches in his left hand. As a result of said cut, Dad patched him up and he and I took him to the hospital's ER.

When we got there, it was strangely quiet -- the Calm Before the Storm, as some would say. It being the legitimate 4th of July this day, the surgeon sewing up Collin's hand (whilst Dad and I sat in the waiting room) mentioned that people wouldn't start coming in until about after dark, anyway -- with most of them having burns from amature fireworks displays.

In all, we were there maybe just a little over an hour: three stitches in total, the insurance checked out, and Collin was good to go. Just to be safe, Dad had him spend the night, on account of the painkillers he was on. Good call.

Now, it being Saturday, today's been fairly low-key and uneventful. Collin and I finished up mulching the front flowerbed, and that was perhaps the most exciting thing all day so far. Although, in a about an hour or so, we're heading down to the K family's place for another bonfire. I was informed by the eldest daughter, Kim, that their lavender has come in, so now it's time for me to head over there with a basket and some clippers so I can help "clear" their beds of it. Yes. Clear it out. Totally innocent.

Although, now that I think about it, I should really clear out MY OWN flowerbed on the southern side of the house so I can plant lavender in there for myself...eventually...

Oh well, I'll worry about that later.

Until next!