3 1/2

When you work a 8-5 job, weekends become precious. Having two consecutive days off is a joy, and you can accomplish more than you ever thought possible. For example, sleeping until 2 pm AND getting laundry done. Try

not to be too impressed.

So if two days are so wonderful, 3 ½ days in a row of no work is like magic. This past Fourth of July weekend was simply magical, starting with Friday at the beach. Some friends came out and we played soccer, made Jessica into a mermaid, threw a Frisbee around and managed to get sand in every possible place there is to have sand.

Friday night, we joined a group at the German Beer Hall, where waitresses in beer wench outfits delivered liters of Hofbrau and dancing on the tables is encouraged. A night full of sing alongs, dance moves and giggling ended in diner food and hilariously wrong directions home, and I went to sleep with a view of the sun rising orange and mauve.

Fireworks in Milwaukee took place on Saturday night, and in the morning crowds staked out

space for tents, blankets, and grills. Imagine the land rush, but with more kites. The sun was hot as we layed around, ate bagels and watched the games settlers near us played. I didn’t see the fireworks on the lake, however, due to the fact I drove to Chicago with Jess and Jenna a few hours later.

Chicago’s Ukrainian village greeted us with Mexican food and hospitable friends, and loud blasts from fireworks set off in the daylight. We walked around the Lincoln Park Zoo Sunday after a diner breakfast and a bus ride. I never thought I’d see three monkeys pee in one v

isit, but you better believe I did. A couple of hours full of sunburns and smashed pennies later

, the females of the group shopped. We’ll just say many dollars exchanged hands, and we headed back to the apartment to get ready for the fireworks show.

Friends of Garrett and Andrea hosted a pot-luck style evening in their beautiful apartment, and from the porch you could see sparklers used to spell out names and hear ‘Merica! shouted from all directions. We rushed to a nearby corner for a professional grade/amateur execution firework display, where we passed two hours of delay with photos and open containers. The show started, and stopped, and started again, proving along the way that danger makes things more fun and people love bright lights and explosions. More pictures were snapped as a

sudden police presence inspired U-S-A chants and the national anthem from the crowd, as well as the ever-so-apt, “It’s the 4th of July, jag-off!” from one neighborhood hero. Rockets were lit in defiance and we strolled away as a paddy wagon pulled up as the show’s finale.