If you live in Brooklyn or Manhattan you also had a soggy 4th of July-if you were silly enough to go outside to try to see fireworks,like I and my group of pals was.
We also climbed 12 flights of stairs for the priviledge of being on a roof blocked by a massive building so no fw could be seen anyway.
My boyfriend and I said enough is enough and grumped off home.On the walk we saw a bit of fw from the street and felt that that was plenty.
We’d been on the go all day cooking and shopping for the 4th of July meal and we were beat.
The night before I put a bunch of chicken thighs to marinate in chimmichurri sauce but somehow the bag of marinated chicken was left out all day no one can eat it without becoming really ill.
I’d also made a huge bowl of potato salad that didn’t get eaten,either.harrumph.
My potato salad is great but I got to the apartment where everyone was gathered about 45 minutes too late and everyone was full.
Why was I so late? I had a clothes issue.
If you’ve read any of my other clothes posts you’ll know I am summer clothes challenged.I also thought my boyfriends friends would be bringing their younger,cuter and thinner girlfriends to the party and I didn’t want to look like an old frump next to them. And A had mentioned a few days earlier that one of my favorite things to wear makes me look a little pregnant. Not because my gut sticks out in it but because he thinks it looks like a maternity top. Well.
Not exactly the kind of thing that lends one confidence.
So I took forever to get dressed and walk over to the house where of course there weren’t a bunch of cute girls looking cute at all.None of the guys brought girls.Ha.
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