Yes, that's right, it's a state holiday here in Utard.
The day we celebrate green jello salad,
and multiple wives
(and a marked lack of multiple orgasms)
and the abolition of tank tops and short shorts and free-thinking women!
We revere the heighths of misogyny to which the predominant culture of this state has soared.
We give thanks for all the hardworking poor who can barely make their bills and yet still fork over ten percent of their GROSS income out of guilt-disguised-as-faith.
I spit on Brigham Young's grave.
(figuratively, that is...you think I'm gonna bother staking that thing out??)
I'll still go enjoy the fireworks...
I always forget this is a REAL holiday here.
I never make plans for it because it just doesn't register in my mind.
We've had a fun, relaxing day.
I got to go to the gym without the kids
and they got to go to the pool with Dad.
They got to go to bed after that,
and so did we!
Well, Mr. is going away for a couple of days, so it needed to be done.
...I needed to be done?
I had a gorgeously vivid dream last night about being a queen.
Probably because last night I read this little thing that I wrote during Hamlet:
I was a queen once; I remember.
I remember running barefoot across cold marble,
my crown heavy and crooked on my wild black curls.
Breathlessly, I rounded a corner and crashed into my beautiful-eyed guard.
In his shock his arms were wrapped around me, our faces just a whisper apart.
Ok, it's feeding time at the zoo,
and then off to gluttonously and thanklessly wallow in the beauty of the freaks' fireworks!