So, the Fourth of July. What's up with that?

I have never been a huge fan of the fourth of July. I know that it makes me sound very un-patriotic - and it has nothing to do with celebrating our nation, more with the fact that I hate the whole traditions. Growing up, my mom would bring us all to some random field and we would spread out scratchy blankets and play games with our cousins but everyone's in a bad mood because it's like 110 degrees out and there is bugs everywhere. Then the fireworks would start, and we would be so close (because we were there 4 hours in advance) that parts of the fireworks would be falling on us and so the kids would all freak out and we would have to move. And then there were the years that my sisters and I were in a performing group Showtime and so we had to dance in front of people waiting for the fireworks so we had caked on makeup and curled hair sprayed with approximately a pound of hairspray and tights and a costume so we were covered and hot and it was so claustrophobic. I know my parents were trying to make it fun, and did the best they could, but I've come to the conclusion that the fourth of July in Phoenix will just never be fun. 

So this year my family apparently was apart of some fundraiser for my brother's football team and had to work at Tempe Town Lake. So even though my sister Jarica and I were not working we were there for . . . . moral support or something. 

 So we sat on this concrete bench under this bridge BAKING in the sun for approximately 32 hours. We were so hot that I kept buying water bottles and we literally poured them over our heads and I threw some in her face. She was mad until she realized it was refreshing and did it also. It was so crowded and we were looking around for a place to sit when we found this:

I've decided from this sign that some Mormon must be responsible for it. Because, c'mon, who else uses the word heck? 

And while everyone was ooohing and ahhhing at the fireworks I was more impressed with this:

Isn't it pretty? It's the prettiest piece of architecture I've seen in the valley. 

On an unrelated note, I've been frustrated lately because I have stuff that I would like to post, stories that I would like to tell, but I don't want everyone and their dog to read it. I know certain people in my life that happen to be ridiculously judgmental and I would never hear the end of it if they knew certain things. It's kinda bumming me out that I can't be myself on here, and I wonder how everyone else does it. I mean especially with kids, there are so many people that would judge a parent for the way you're raising your kids, or things you want to post about your husband but you are afraid your MIL might read it .. . .  you know? Or maybe I'm the only one that doesn't mind everyone knowing everything. It's especially sad because yesterday something really funny happened but I can't post it because normally something funny or crazy happens to me because I'm doing something wrong, which is the case with yesterday.

Oh well, I guess I'll settle for this blog to be only moderately offensive instead of completely offensive. Eh, life goes on.