Dont Rain On My Parade

It's been a long Labor Day weekend. It was the first time since most likely my early childhood since I've missed a Labor Day in my hometown.

Labor Day is a huge holiday in my little, rural town. They celebrate with 100s of tractors, marching bands, local high school teams, and reunion floats. After the parade, everyone goes to the high school for a big chicken dinner prepared by a local church and the firefighters. There's also the obligatory talent show, beer tent, carnival games, and bingo tent.

It's great fun when you are in high school or have a small child to chase down parade candy for you. I lost interest last year when I realized I was officially one of only two or three friends that was still attending the festivities without a husband or child.

B made it up to me with a parade of my own... made out of various toys I have around my apartment.

I did get to spend part of my extended weekend at the Chicago Fire game with The Ginger. It was a disappointing tie game, but the place was sold out and the stadium was dancing. The next day, I had my required goodbye-to-the-beach. It was lovely just to sit on the shore while reading a book. I'm going to miss the summer, I really am.

And now, I'm bundled up in a big cardigan, sitting in the office, hoping to think of something witty or mildly funny to write. I've got nothing, dear friends. I'm blank. And I'm out.

In Rainbows

I've had an absolutely fantastic weekend. After having nothing to do at my job besides fret over what insurance plan I was going to pick and how to adjust my World Cup table, I was so glad for the weekend to come. I spent pretty much all of it with B, exploring my new neighborhood. The RP has great potential and this apartment is shaping out nicely now that I finally found time and motivation to unpack all of my crap. (ok, I might still have a box or two in my backseat!)

On Friday, we found a bar. Nothing exciting and no drinks quite as enticing as my beloved gummy bear at the Elgin Public House. We did get to watch the most uncomfortable wedding anniversary party ever...

Saturday was all about the heartbreak. My poor USMNT couldn't pull off another miracle and make it through to the quarters. I am proud they got through their rounds, but their play has been somewhat uninspired since they won CONCACAF. Unfortunately, unlike the Cubs, I cant say "next year." I get the four year rub. We made up for my heartache with long islands... lots and lots of LONG ISLANDS. Mixed with piano bars and a cute double date, it was all downhill from there. Ask KStrong and B... and everyone else I managed to dial or text.

I luckily woke up today with no hang over in time to go to the Pride Parade. Last year, my dad and Melanie came down and I attempted to find them in a massive sea of sweaty rainbow faces. This year, I spent the 2+ hour parade in B's brother's apartment with his family.

All I've got to say, and this may be the most meaningful thing I've got at this hour, is that love is love. It shows no preference to age, race, gender, creed, experience, clothing taste, money, etc. And I cant be any more proud that my generation is the one that continually accepts that. Every generation has its "cause." This one cant be anymore ours. And what could be more nobler than fighting for love?

And that's it for me. I promised three blogs a week. Let's just pretend I finished this 20 minutes ago.