Fireworks and Choppers.

Jacket:  thrifted.  Eyelet Dress:  Forever 21.  Leggings:  Macy's.  Shoes:  Nine West.

Here in my burg, the fireworks were put on tonight.  My Sweetness dusted off the motorcycle, and we rode down to the river to watch, but not without some minor hemming and hawing from yours truly.  You see, my dear dad has instilled in me a deep and abiding fear of these machines.  He seems to know a lot of people that have died on them, and the one who didn't had facial reconstructive surgery so intense that she doesn't even look like the same person anymore. 

So, I spent the first ten minutes of this ride to the fireworks silently saying good-bye to my limbs and trying to figure out if, in a collision, if I should try to land head-first since that was the only thing that was protected.  Clearly, I've survived, and in fact have deemed riding a motorcycle to see some fireworks to be the very best way to see them.  In fact, I'm going to get to do it this way twice--

Today, we're taking a week's vacation to the beaches of North Carolina, staying in a rented beach house with some friends.  We're taking the motorcycle with us, for beach-side riding adventures (I figure the sand will make for a soft landing)... we're having a luau, getting to see fireworks again on the 4th, and I have packed only red, white and blue articles of clothing... including one tiny red polka-dot skirt that I recently created from a giant, matronly one.

Happy 4th of July to all!  Eat lots of fried chicken, listen to ZZ Top and ride yer hogs!!  Huzzah!

Independently Yours,

Elissa.