“Fireworks.”
…”Yes,” said Gregor, smiling eagerly.  [Everyone] around the table perked up at this.  An inherent cultural passion for things that went boom, perhaps.
– Louis McMaster Bujold, A Civil Campagin

Last year J. and I were on our honeymoon and watched fireworks from the top of the Stratosphere hotel, which meant we only saw tiny little puffballs of color blossoming far beneath us.  The year before that, I and others in Ireland celebrated by having our vote to go to Kilkenny overturned by our professor who wanted to see Glendelough.  And the two years I’ve been in the US previously, I spent the summers in Belgium working at NATO with my father and got to see nary an explosion.

And I love fireworks!

This year most of the surrounding area is doing it’s 4th celebration on the 3rd, and lots of the cities are strapped for cash (hurray, recession) so I probably won’t get to see any this year either.  Sigh.

However, ironically enough, J. and I didn’t get to celebrate our anniversary on Thursday (he went to a funeral, and I was dying at work prepping for our university’s own 4th party) and yesterday we went out to eat with his sister and parents.  So today we will be celebrating our lack of indpendence together!