Fourth of July and friends

On the fourth of July I was treated to the news of both Senator Jesse Helms' long-overdue demise and Barack Obama's fucking ignorant and privileged remarks on late-term abortion. On balance, a politically ambivalent day.

Luckily, I had the opportunity to take my mind off of politics, if not the patriotic spectacle of fireworks, and trekked over to a friend's parents' apartment for an Independence Day reunion. This guy whose parents' apartment it was, well, he works far far away in an area that is not the most socially progressive--it was lovely to have him back if just for a few days, and even better that several of our college friends in the area made it there. It was a grand old time, with his mother encouraging us to imbibe in their impressive variety of liquors. And the apartment had a beautiful view--we could see three or four separate fireworks shows over the course of the evening, though the ash pretty much blocked our view after two or three minutes.

I should probably make more of an effort to see my friends, particularly the ones who only live an hour or two from where I am. But it seems that everyone's extraordinarily busy and exhausted, figuring out first jobs and figuring out themselves, and before you know it you're suddenly content seeing people once every six months when you used to see them every day. I suppose with the sense of "I can get it touch with them any time I want" imparted by Facebook and Gchat and text messaging and all the rest, it's not necessarily a dire thing. Time passes so fast that it doesn't feel dire except insofar as once in awhile you get jolted with a thought of "holy shit, it's been a year already? You're totally going to be dead before you know it."

Anyway, I'm rambling now, but summer around here's been lonely, and I have to admit that this get-together was a really nice reminder that there ARE people out there who get me and who are gotten by me, as it were. I just wish they were more accessible.