Here's to many many more....

This blog is going to have to be quick, I am not allowed at this point in time to do any writing except for the "manuscript" - don't want my storytellers voice to fade, we have found this week that that mindset is far different from my blogging one....
And so I sneak away from my wife on the porch with my laptop plugged in outside and I type too furiously to even process what I am leaving here for you.
This isn't really for you today though, if I am quite honest. This blog today is for her, my wife, my very best friend in the world, my savior, my angel, my devil - the birthday girl Mary Dyer.
Today I count my blessings that she was born.
I think a lot about what would have happened to me had I not found her, or she me?
What would have happened had she not saved me?
She is like that for a lot of people, central and core. She has that way about her and I say that all who her count her as those things, should most of all count themselves lucky.
Friendship is a perfect state of being.
Real friendship - the hard working kind. It takes commitment and follow through and the ability to say the hard things when they need to be said - soft arms of encouragement to encircle you once the tough stuff has been spilled.
She has done that for me, more times than I can tell you and it has with time, made facing the hard a much easier endeavor.
The last few days that I have spent here with Mary and her Mother are some of the most perfect days of my life.
It is hard to explain what it all looks like, feels like, what about it is so perfect - it just is though, trust me, perfection.
We have moved we three, like a small grazing herd. We go from room to room, apple tree to apple tree, deck to deck, creating work stations that have it all. Foot rests, beds in the garden, end trays with coffee cups, mikes hard lemonades, lipgloss, glasses of red wine - we have worked with the sounds of the ocean, the chirp of the baby chicks, the sea gulls squawks as they dive for fish and good music as a backdrop. We work for hours, then we talk, then we sit in silence then we laugh, then we up and graze again - all day every day.
Perfection.
I have read my manuscript to them as it has tumbled out of me - we have sat under the trees next to the shade garden and let the words of my first novel tumble out into the PH air, take flight on an ocean breeze. It has been perfect, every damn second.
I am the luckiest girl in the world to have a best friend that not only provides everything to my emotional side but also comes with this place, this perfect slice of heaven by the ocean where anyone coming empty is sure to depart completely full.
I am so so so lucky.
And today is my girls birthday, she is thirty eight today.
we joke a lot about what we will look like, how we will dress when we retire to the part time condo in Florida, how age will wear on us and what we will become.
I can only pray that we get to see.
I worry sometimes about loss - we all know that is a prevalent fear in my world - I worry about what would become of us, if one of us was lost?
I can't bear it, the thought of a life that doesn't include her and her family...
I used to think of birthdays as a pain in the ass - really another year older? grrrrr - but lately I see them as a beautiful thing, bring on 38, bring on 41, keep em comin' means we are still alive and kickin, means we have had lots of time and Happy Birthday, you get some more.
I'll take it, thank you very much.
When I look at Mary now, I see the younger her in her face sometimes, an expression, the lighting, a certain laugh. But I will be honest when I say I prefer the thirty eight year old version to the one I met almost eighteen years ago. I see OUR history in her face now too, see all the smiles we have shared, all the dirty jokes, all the tough conversations, all the great moments wear on her face in the smile lines around her eyes.
I think she is more beautiful today than ever before and I would say the same about myself even,
time has been good to us both.
I have no idea what I said here, it probably makes no sense at all.
Good thing, I know it will to her.
I love you Mary Dyer, love you with all that I am.
Happy Birthday my Love and many many many more.....

Maine Blog 4

Good Morning blog readers - my first blog written in real time in what feels like days. Down East at the end of the world, signals are sketch and so the phone is a no- go and the internet is highly dependent on the neighbors. But, here I am folks, real time with two bars in my signal box - And so I write.
I am experiencing a time that I was never sure would come to fruition; as I have explained previously, little land mines are usually exploding all throughout the planned itinerary that Mary and I have mapped out. Nothing ever goes as it should and with that I knock on wood and I am not even the slightest bit superstitious. Knock knock.
So far we have gotten safely to PH and nothing earth shattering has happened.
We did forget the printer chord which is definitely freaking me out a little, it's hard for me to proof all my writing on the computer while in a literal working word document. I lack tremendously in the patience department when it comes to reading my own material - I get three lines in and want to set it on fire or make it into confetti - I need Mary and Karen to proof me and to red line the hell out of what is working and what isn't...
Yesterday I wrote my ass off. I literally did it waves as the tides of my thoughts rushed in and pulled out.
When I was done giving birth to each section as it left me, I took a break from the writing and listened to music too loudly, rocked in the rocking bench with Mary on the deck while she worked or lap danced the invisible man that can handle my flavor to some Aretha Franklin - If I were a lap dancer professionally (and I so could have made that a lucrative career, just sayin') I would choose all the old school soul to seduce to. I don't know where I am going with that...
At any rate - I took breaks in between the birthing process and tried to give my head time to calm down.
For me, my best writing just explodes out of me - the lines come so rapidly, I panic a little if I am not near my computer when it begins. Yesterday, it happened while I was in the shower and I spent the first forty five minutes writing dripping wet in the sun room in my towel - my hair dried just a tad funky because of that chapter.
Writing for me is very physical - my body literally hurts today from the stress of the creative process - Mary and I did some yoga yesterday at some point too - the yoga helped a lot, but still, at the end of the day I felt as though I had climbed a mountain.
The emotional place where I go to write is very intense - I have to get very raw, more raw than usual and that is a journey let me tell you what.
I am doing it though - writing and writing and writing just like we had planned I would.
I think my wifey is actually a little surprised at how much I got in the box and didn't come out - she was trying to force feed me lunch yesterday - "you need to eat something" An appetite is hard to come by when you are experiencing and emotional exorcism.
This morning as I woke thinking on the lines I remembered, I immediately began to self doubt and get all crazy in my head and worked up and thinking that I should ditch and re-write - i dunno start again. But, I can't....I don't know how to do this any other way than to just let it pour out, receive feedback, than proof and edit.
When I re-read my own words they sound different in the air than they did coming out of me - it's hard because I am familiar with them already and so I lose the new eye, the new heart when reading - that is what my girls are for - if only we had a printer chord.
I have like twenty of them at home in a basket somewhere - that does me no good to even consider.
As far as everything else is going, I am in heaven. The weather has been glorious - the smell of the sea air, the sounds of the ocean, the colors of the gardens, it is all perfection and I cannot argue with any of it....
I am spending a few days away from the kids, they are with Aunt Pam and this is a little stressful because I worry. I know they are fine and that they really need this time with their Aunt and it's good for them to break away form Mom a little bit, I just hate the longing and sadness I hear in Emma's voice when I talk to her at night and she misses me so. It's tough to take, being away from my girl when she needs a hug.
But we are surviving and probably thriving.
I know that for me, minus the worry about Em's and Matt, this time has been exactly what the doctor ordered for me.
I am here in the most perfect place in the world with my two favorite women.
We are living for four days like we would live, if we didn't have to live real life.
Mind you, we are not slacking by any stretch of the imagination, we aren't slackers by nature so even in the most luxurious of life scenarios, us three would still be knee deep in some project or another - we are simply together and letting the days happen rather than live up to them.
It is a fantastic state of being and I couldn't be any more in my element.
It rained last night while we slept and I can see the clouds burning off from where I sit typing in the sun room. I think today will turn out rather like yesterday - it was beautiful, the sun was bright and the breezes were a plenty.
I love the ocean. I love watching it move and watching all that is dependent on it, move around it.
The birds are singing a sweet song out the window and the lighthouse is more visible as the fog dissipates. Karen is in the kitchen cleaning up breakfast shit and Mary is on a conference call in the bedroom. Casey (the pup) is curled up asleep at my feet.
It's not so bad this moment in time - I think I will go soak it in and wish you all some moments with the same quality of peacefulness.
Have a blessed day

Maine Blog 3

Good Evening Bloggers, or should I say Morning? I think it’s one am, but I am not really sure due to the fact that I cannot currently rely on my poor phone to give me any accurate information and I am too far away from a clock to get up to look.
I am here in Prospect Harbor at the end of the world in bed next to my sleeping wife – she snores a little but in a cute way.
I cannot even pick a place to begin – there is so much in my head right now that it’s swirling about – I wish I had a lever on my head like a Vegas slot machine – where it stops is what it is.
I had originally intended to write about the last day – my psychotic day in Portland, psychotically hilarious and well spent, followed up by a great night at Bubba’s sulky lounge….There is so much great material there – Cameron’s hockey game at seven am in my pajamas with a dunkin donuts coffee in hand, shopping for dresses with Mofo, Mary and Courtney - Lunch at Uncle Bear and Karolyns – Laying on my back in the shade under a tree with a red wine buzz and Shawn and Mary - Our insane as usual trek through the hotel lobby with nothing short of the houses that home all the shit we are lugging - the great outdoor dinner with the interesting verbal assault from a random unhappy person, a techno dance a thon at Bubba’s sulky lounge….So, so so very much great material.
I had had the blog written in my head as I sat in the Hannaford parking lot with Casey smoking cigarettes and listening to the PH playlist on Mary’s IPOD – had the whole thing pre-constructed.
Then something happened that completely fouled up my organized topic matter and sent me on a tail spin – All the things I was going to give you details on, prior to the “event that happened”
Are extremely worthy of description in full hilarity and if I can get to a silly place, I promise, I WILL fill you eventually – BUT for right now the slot machine of my brain says it all on Pam and Emma.
My daughter is the love of my life – the thing that always fits with me, because she was carved from my very being. She is my sweet, sweet girl – and she is with her Aunt Pammy and away from her Mom. That’s me – Mommy (and she says it with all the tenderness a voice can communicate.
She misses me, especially at bedtime – she sleeps with me every damn night of my life – it hasn’t failed in almost eight years. She may start in her bed – but inevitably crawls into the empty space where she belongs and we, for a short time (8 hours if we are lucky) become one in the form of an unbreakable cuddle.
I am having a hard time not holding her – I imagine for her it is downright painful for her heart.
And yet, she is working through it like a brave little toaster and holding her own, Miss Independent ….She’s trying so hard. I am so proud.
She is there to visit her Aunt Pam who has breast cancer and is in the fight of her life – she knows that the love and time she shares with Aunt Pam, could potentially be really healing to Aunt Pam’s fighters heart – She is putting Pam over herself and working through her separation anxiety although she is fully aware I am a phone call and a car ride away….
Tonight she called pretty late, like eleven.
I could hear it in her voice she was shaky. Said the bed smelled like me from when we slept in it the other day and it made her heart hurt with longing.
Oh my God – I love that gentle girl.
We talked about how proud I was of her, how great she is and that all she has to do is keep my share of cuddles for Friday when we would re-attach and catch up on many missed kisses and hugs.
I told her to give all she’s got to Aunt Pammy and save my share up for the Friday big dose.
I will admit, readily admit without hesitation that part of me wanted to go to her immediately and ease her missing – ease my missing – man I do miss her face.
But then the thing happened that I knew I had to write about….
She had a conversation with Pam, totally distracted away from me and any hint of lonely.
She asked Pam to show her the biggest star in all of the sky, all of the world…
And I could picture them wrapped in a blanket on the steps to camp, huddled together for warmth looking up into the night sky together in search of the biggest star.
I heard my sister in law, in the most loving and attentive voice tell Emma about the little dipper, a constellation lesson Aunt to Niece.
My eyes poured tears and I held the phone up to Mary’s ear too so that she could hear the beautiful moment my daughter was sharing with her very special Aunt.
I fell in love with them both all over again and wondered if when Emma located what she believed to be the biggest – did she wish on that star? Did they wish something together?
I will leave that secret for them to have….
I am in bed now but did spend a moment after the fact on the front deck looking up at the sky in silence.
I wished on a star that twinkled, a tiny twinkler in the company of some magnificently bright skymates.
It looked to me like it had gumption twinkling so furiously despite its size.
I squeezed my eyes so tightly and held my breath….
I wished for a cure for breast cancer first and foremost.
Selfishly I pressed on – I wished that every human being feels love like I heard in my sister in-laws voice tonight as she talked to my little girl.
Further still, that life would be full of moments, exactly like the one they shared tonight.
Love well and give it all away xo

Maine Blog 2

Good Evening Bloggers,
I have no internet connection what so ever here at camp and so I write this to you in Microsoft office with every intention of posting it just as soon as I can get to a place with Wi-fi. It is about eight o’clock or shortly after and I am absolutely beat, spent, exhausted. This trip has been non-stop since it began at the pre-trip festivities on the Fourth of July….I literally have not stopped going. Yesterday I went to the ocean. It was beautiful and exactly what a Northern girl like me needed, her first full day home. Although it was not a beach I would have typically chosen or frequented when I lived here, it was nice just the same to get back to good ole Old Orchard Beach. It was the same as I remember from way back in 1996 when I was last there to see Hootie and the Blowfish – back in the day (sorta)
The pier was packed full of vacationers and the smell of funnel cakes was in the air, the sand was sandy and the water was cold – all the way I last left it.
I commented to my son Matthew that the sky is different here in Maine, somehow it seems higher up than the sky in Virginia – the air feels lighter, it moves you and you want it to.
Sometimes the “breezes” in Va. feel like cotton balls assaulting your face – heavy and hard to breathe.
Not that I don’t love Virginia, cause I definitely do – the sky here is like I said, just higher up somehow and I have truly missed the space between the Earth and the clouds – that space is good space here in the Northeast.
I would be remiss to not mention that the Bruins gear was loud and proud in every storefront and this also pleased me greatly – that and the sign for ‘wicked good wieners.’
I even went for a dip in the ocean and frolicked in the frosty froth, which in all truthfulness was a lot less freezing than I expected. It was nice to taste the salt in my mouth and to have genuine ocean in my hair, rather than the salt water pool. I had the most massive beach tousles you would have ever seen if you had passed me on my way to the tattoo parlor –
Yeah I said it, tattoo parlor – Oooopps I did it again….
Whenever I get a tat, it happens just that way - on a total whim. Funny but my last two have been while in a bikini – hmmm I say? Something about the summer that screams INK to me.
This time it was almost a missed chance, but I managed to use my charm and persuasion and ended up with an eight pronged needle in my big toe.
It occurred to me while driving on the highway, a co-pilot to my captain sister in – law Pam, that a tat would be a cool way to honor her battle with breast cancer. I could get inked for her and my nieces, for my kids too – so we honor her, each other, our places in her life and each other’s – not to mention that every time someone looks at my cute foot they would see Pam’s pink ribbon and ask, “Hey, what’s that tat about?” And then I get to tell her story and spread the word for a cure.
What a cool idea I thought, and then the next second my thought turned to decision and decision turned to determination and I was getting a tat come hell or high tide.
One parlor was closed on Wednesday of course – nothing is ever easy for me. The second and only other on the beach was booked solid with only one artist in for the entire day….
I waited outside until he took a cigarette break in between clients and told him my story, made myself a new friend. It took three hours of nail biting to get the call to come in, he had made room, a kid showed and was not legal age YESSSSSSS.
And I was in like Flynn.
How cool that my kids, my niece Taylor and my hero Pam, got to watch me add a permanent memorial on the wall of my world.
It was way cool and hurt like a Motherfucker.
I chose my big toe on my right foot (closer to my heart), I just thought a pink ribbon on the toe would be really cute and visible. Jason (the artist) said it would hurt bad, the knuckle would present a pain problem – he wasn’t lying but it was nothing compared to my lucky 7 – that pain still lingers I swear. I sweat a pool on to the floor for that one, felt like my spine was on fire….
When all was said and done this time, I hugged the artist – what a sweet guy – said he was a sucker for a hot chick and was glad to have been a part of our experience.
I will never forget sweet, kind and very bald Jason – the dude from OOB that fit me in.
After the tat, the day seemed ready to wrap, until I got a text message from Mary who informed me that an OZ like storm was blowing in on Snow Pond and that her camp, down the way from my camp, had no power.
Seriously ??? I had enough sand in my bikini to name it a new beach front.
OMG if we have no power I am going to freak.
Then I got the text that I had missed the rainbow – there are always rainbows in my world and I smiled that we were in close enough proximity that she could rub it in my face and it would mean something. I was just down the highway far enough away to miss it….
I showered finally and passed out cold, tan like a Brazilian with a permanent pink toe 
A really good kind of tired.
This morning I woke to my wife standing over my bed at 6am….No power, means no coffee and no shower for her – I was happy she had no power – the most beautiful alarm clock you ever did see.
Today was a down day spent in my bikini again, just me and the kiddos at camp while Pam went for treatment (chemo)
Fuck you cancer, FUCK YOU.
I would apologize for my language, but I cannot and plus, I have that whole warning thing at the beginning – enter at your own risk.
FUCK YOU CANCER.
I won’t go there now, as she sleeps snoring quietly on the couch while I type – I can’t go there and ruin the peaceful vibe with my anger – not really what she needs, but yeah again, Fuck You cancer.
Ugh sigh grrrr deep breath watery eyes.
I wish I had the power, I would change so much for so many, I would start with her and then move to Alyssa Divers and get that all straightened out too.
And I feel my mood changing and it’s not where I want to go – I want to stay here in the peaceful quiet while the camp fire roars and the kids make smores and Pam snores.
And so I say Peace out for now. Blessings to you all.

Maine Blog 1

Good Morning Blog readers,
I hope this Wednesday morning finds you feeling fine. Today I woke up in the first bedroom at camp on Five Fingers Road in Oakland, Maine. It’s been years since I woke up in this camp house. I am naturally the first one up, I am was greeted by the sun in my face as it slid through the slats of the closed blinds that do little to block out the light anyways. I woke up with two words in my head. OBJECT PERMANENCE. Throw back vocab to my psych class from last semester. In context of developmental psych, object permanence is when a baby learns that just because they cannot identify something directly in their visual field, does NOT mean that it is gone permanently – just that they cannot see it. For example, Mom is here – Mom went into the kitchen to get my bottle = Mom is GONE. When a baby develops object permanence they realize Mom went in to get my bottle – she will return.
I haven’t been to camp in years, I am going to estimate almost five maybe, truth is, I cannot remember when I was last here. That in itself is weird and I am sure I could come up with a psych term for that specific state of amnesia – something called selective memory maybe??
At any rate, I am here now.
I have spent a lot of summers here at the Poulin camp, there was a time when I would look forward to this reprieve on the lake all year long. A time when I drove onto the sprawling grass lawn and swear that I witnessed the house take a deep breath and then settle into a warm smile – yes, she’s here – and I will be loved.
And fyi, the house was sad when it got vaccumed for the final time, last trash bag of crap hauled out and the final walkthrough was complete.
There was a time I would sit out on the dock by myself to breathe in the sight one last time before I took the stroll to the car which was full of impatient people waiting on me to leave.
There was a time when this place was my heaven on earth.
Even without me all these years, it has survived and stands in the same spot, same rock on the shore, same old rusty swing still sitting on the lawn.
That makes me happy as I sit here typing and can hear the train whistle as it crosses the tracks two and a half fingers deep.
How many times did a penny get left on those tracks and retrieved the next day?
How many times have I run that dirt road in the morning sunlight with my IPOD, hoping a black bear didn’t eat me on my way through?
How many times have I sat in that swing, back and forth and back and forth?
How many Maine mosquitoes bites have I itched while I bitched?
How many times have I shaved my legs in the lake?
I have loved my time here at camp, truly I have.
This trip is a strange one, I am a Poulin by marriage without my marital counterpart.
I am here amongst the Poulins, just me and my two Poulin offspring.
I will admit it’s kinda nice but yes, kinda strange.
So much of my marital history played out here, so many good moments that Dan and I once shared occurred in this very place. I am flooded with them at each corner I turn and part of me longs for a rewind button and the insert of a good marriage counselor before it all went so terribly wrong. If wishes were fishes.
Sad to have great memories hurt a little because they are tainted by the present.
Sad that Matt and Emma don’t have those memories of their Mommy and Daddy here floating in the lake together, sitting around the camp fire, swinging and cuddling in the swing.
Sucks really and I am getting in to a mood with this so let’s switch directions.
I am here now with my Sister in law Pam, her husband “Uncle Eric “ and our brood of Poulin demons.
So far so good and so far I feel really happy to be here, really lucky to still be a part of everyone’s lives despite how times have changed.
My kids are settling in nicely. They are accustomed to the bug bites (although Emma marvels at the amount of bugs here in Maine), they have almost mastered the art of not slamming the screen door and the fine art of the perfect smore.
So far no injuries, no illness, no fires and no fights.
Matt and his cousin Taylor had the run down yesterday of all the felonies it would NOT be okay to commit whilst in each other’s company – Frick and Frack – two peas in a pod – Trouble with a capital T…..They are cut from the same cloth and that means I am exempt from all the blame and will be sure to remind Dan of that as Matthew grows up.
Ha, it’s a Poulin thang.
Today I am overjoyed to know that object permanence is real – Camp is still here even though I have been away.
I would like the breast cancer that is still here to go the fuck away though and leave my sister in- law alone.
Good to see her laugh about her eyebrows though and with that I am tearing up and typing is getting hard.
Enough said.
Object permanence.

Happy 4th

Happy 4th of July everyone - good to be independent isn't it?
Um where the hell is the sun? This is my last day in lovely Virginia and I need my sun fix before I head home to the great North East and brave the unpredictable weather.
Like heating up my core to, getting good and hot to sustain me internally just in case I freeze my ever lovin ass off.....
But enough about me and my problems.
How about our Independent country - pretty nice ha?
I woke this morning thinking of my Papa and his funeral. Could be my convo with Misty and Steph yesterday, could be that my Papa was a patriotic guy.
Although this is not veterans day, I just had images of his funeral in my head as the single soldier played taps in the back of the church after Papa's final procession in his casket, how the other soldier took the flag off and folded it so carefully for my Nan and presented it to her with so much respect.
My Papa was a navy pilot and served the country he loved with the utmost respect and pride...
I am proud to be of a naval family - props to all our armed forces and their families.
A greater service to our country could not be given....
Thanks all you vets and current military personnel.
I appreciate my freedom and liberties.
And so that is really all I have to say today.
Proud to be American and grateful for all the people who have continually fought to keep up independent and safe.
God Bless America - sun please cooperate....
Have a blessed and Happy 4th and be careful out there peeps :)

Lordy Lordy Lordy I can't help it....

Good Sunday Morning,
on the eve of the fourth...How I wish I were with my girl in coordinating patriotic outfits, sigh - we sure do know how to do the party theme thing...Miss that we cannot collaborate every holiday, hence party occasion.
Which brings me to my thoughts this morning...Lordy lordy lordy I can't help it I like to party it's genetic - it's electrifying...
But my phone got tossed in the pool with me, ugh. My beautiful EVO, sigh.
And guess what, no insurance? Really, my phone with no insurance? DUMB.
I skipped some stuff, didn't I?
I went to the Lake Monticello adult pool party Friday night, I should have known better....
I always pay some price when the word party is involved - the original party girl - my claim to fame.
This time it was my phone and so I am downgraded and numberless and dejected feeling and wondering why, why why why?
I can't help it, I was born fun and made to laugh with my big ass mouth wide open.
Don't blame me - I was made this way - I like to party.
Will it ever die off? Will I ever not be the life of the party? The instigator? The butterfly?
I hope not, but I suppose it's possible...
I can't do flip cup of beer pong - I am too busy flitting, visiting and talking to everyone - "hey, I need more wine" red cup upside down...
I have always been this way - the funnest girl at the party.
Josh said "well duh IRISH" and yes, Irish girls are the best party girls, no doubt. And not because we can drink, although as rarely as I do it, I can usually drink anyone under the table and dreaming.
It's not the high tolerance for the drink that makes me fun, it's this damn wide open spirit.
I just like fun way too much. Is there too much?
But seriously - I always pay a price.
I could sit in the corner quiet with my red cup - or I could be the asshole in the pool fully clothed.
I'll pick the pool every time and when I don't, it is probably time for me to be put down like a wounded animal.
This is why my BFF loves to party with me - WIND ME UP AND WATCH ME GO.
It's a pink lyric, our party girl anthem.
With Mary and I, it is usually shot glasses rimmed in pink sugar, one after another, after another...She feeds them to me like a mother bird, winds up my back crank and sits back to be thoroughly entertained - doesn't matter where we are, or who we are with - we end up being the F in FUN.
I miss that and hate that at best it only happens like twice a year - BUT in places like Vegas and NYC and the Bahn - so really who am I to complain.
If only I could figure out a way to secure my possessions and post bail before the music starts???
Kidding about the bail - well sort of ;)
If only I could get really analytical about my surroundings, assess the possibilities and take precautions going in...
A pool and an EVO. Me and a body of water and a phone. Me and a bunch of younguns who get a real kick out of the old broad with the crazy ass laugh -
recipe for issues, no doubt.
That's the ticket - Pre-party assessment and a little worst case scenario run through.
Basically I need to go in clothed and that's it. Nothing more, nothing less - no purse, no ID, No credit cards - no nothing.
A change of clothes and a towel?
Grrrrr.
But I went to a pool party after three years of saying I would and never showing up.
And I toasted with my pool girl Mary, danced up on Sara, drank a beer with Josh, sat with my Homie Steph and even had some dream salon girl time.
And met Claire's husband Howie - RIOT.
Not so bad and despite the waterlogged and dead phone - worth it.
I am getting ready to go home this weekend, but before I do, celebrate the 4th.
Not really going to "party" - but I think I will leave my phone at home just in case.
Happy 4th weekend Peeps - God Bless America and all it's independent glory