I've heard people use the old saw "Every day above ground is a good day." I suppose I must quote Ellen Ripley here:
It seems that everyone in the world is out celebrating or partying or watching fireworks or socializing. But here I sit, by myself, not doing anything even remotely productive. Not even writing.
It's Independence Day today, and the fireworks are going wild outside. Last night, I did my run among them, and tonight I'm thinking I should run before it gets too dark, since there will be tons of people out and about (despite the fact that we're not supposed to). That reminds me, a person I know went down with a bunch of friends to Southern California this weekend, to sun and play on the beach. But how can you be alive in July 2020 and not know that in California you're not supposed to be at the beaches this Fourth, or mingling with strangers, semi-strangers, or lovers you just met that day?
Gosh, when I first started this daily blogging thing, I posted some picture of me looking at a bunch of grapes and thinking them sour. I should find that picture.
The thing is: I can't change who I am or how alone I am . . . I can only change my attitude about it. Guess I'll do my run now, since that always makes me feel either good or sweaty, sometimes both.
Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In July: 648
I did my run, and the city was alive with activity unlike any I've seen this whole year. If any social distancing rules were in force tonight, nobody was paying them any mind. Which probably applies to us, since we had a barbecue at my mom's house, with my sister and her kids, me, my mom and other sister, Uncle Ali, my uncle John's family, and Cathexis and her boyfriend's little sister. I grilled all the meat, and tried to take a selfie of me doing it, but it did not come out:
Everyone seemed to get along, and I tried Cherry Pepsi: Zero Sugar for the first time (it tasted like diet soda chemicals)
There are so many kids running around, and once the fireworks started, they felt the need to get louder and louder, shrieking and running and jumping around and whooping and wrestling and kicking each other in the Jujyfruits. So, I thought I'd go on my run before it got dark.
Too late. As I was reaching the one mile mark, I saw a huge full moon rising in the distance, with fireworks going on around it and I pulled out my phone and took this picture:
Sigh. I'm going to HAVE to get a new phone this week. Not that most of the photos I take are terrible, but I kept trying to get one where you could actually see the moon and know it was the moon, and no go. By the time I gave up, it was full-on dark, and brilliant creative genius that I am, I was dressed all in black on a night where everybody's watching the sky as they drive. Sigh again.
After I got back from my run--yes, I made it back alive, unfortunately--several members of my family were going to walk to the park and watch fireworks, so I went with them (probably smelling even sweatier and fouler than usual). And the park, while it had little groups of people in it, wasn't nearly as packed as the sidewalks had been, and it was actually pretty neat to sit there on the grass and feel sorry for myse--I mean, watch the fireworks displays going on in all directions.
I tired of the explosions quickly, and resorted to texting and Instagram stalking while the adults watched the skies and the kids went nuts running around in the dark, but still, it was better than sitting alone on my bed writing or editing or blogging . . . which is what I'm doing now.
Oh, and I grabbed my regular camera (the one I use to take pictures of action figures) and got a few pics of the moon with it. They came out way better.
And that's about it.
In 2000 (twenty years ago now, though it feels like three), I wrote my short story "Round and Round," in which I declared that the most beautiful lyrics in music history were
"I may not always love you,
But sure as there are stars above you
You never need to doubt it
I'll make you so sure about it
And God only knows what I'd be without you."
Well, I've changed in a lot of ways in the years since writing that--I got fat, then I lost some of that weight, then I got fatter, then I lost a lot of it again, I grew a beard, my hairline receded an inch, I got glasses, then I lost my glasses, I made new friends, then I lost my friends, I tried to be brave, then embraced cowardice, I've written novels and recorded audiobooks, I found the first white hair in my beard, I got a new philosophy on life, I found the hundredth white hair in my beard, I made a bunch of money, then I lost my money, I smiled, I laughed, I despaired, I ached--but you know, I think I gotta still agree with my year 2000 self.
I can't think of a better one, not even the Radiohead one about wanting you to notice when he's not around, because she's so very special, and he wishes he was special. Either that or,
"Everybody have fun tonight
Everybody Wang Chung tonight."
Maybe let's let Ripley have the last word:
Words Today: 932
Words In July: 3198
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