Was busily writing love letters on Wednesday night, when an ambulance and a fire truck pulled up to my building. Freaked out by these events, (in addition to the bottle of concentrated caffeine-and-sugar-water I'd been gulping), I decided to take a little stroll, where I wouldn't have to think about the possibility of dead people in my apartment building. There are a lot of older people in my building; I really didn't want to be around if one of the old folks kicked the bucket, and they brought him or her out in a black bag. That would freak me out...
A block and a half away from my building, some kids were throwing fireworks into the street. Assholes. When the first one landed in front of me, I yelled out something to the effect of "Jesus Fucking Christ!" The kids in the yard heard me -- there's no way they DIDN'T hear me -- and proceeded to light another firework, which they discarded into the street in front of me -- AGAIN. Wisely, I stayed back: pissed off, but safe. I then yelled: "Okay, I'm WALKING BY YOUR HOUSE NOW. Please don't THROW ANYTHING at me!" I heard a couple of giggles and then a "hey guys, watch THIS one!" The firework came within about two feet of hitting me as they threw it and it exploded.
Started to run to avoid being hit by anything else. If the fuckers were going to intentionally throw flaming explosives at me -- and it WAS intentional; I KNOW they saw me -- who KNEW what else they might do. Especially on a relatively quiet street after dark. Managed to make my escape up through a church parking lot, but on the other side of the parking lot, there was a station wagon full of kids -- the same kids? I have no evidence or anything, but I'm deeply suspicious that it was -- yelling things out of their windows at me and jeering. And I hadn't heard any more firecrackers from that house since I'd taken off running.
I hate that sort of people. I mean it, I really hate them. The next day, the same kids, at the same house, threw two MORE firecrackers at my friend's vehicle. So we advised the nice people at the Olympia 911 phone center, that there were some assholes trying to start car wrecks and set nice folks on fire. I hate to call the police on people, I really do... But I'd really like to be able to walk down my own street without getting attacked -- with, yes, a potentially deadly weapon, and certainly a dangerous one -- by stupid drunk people I've never seen before in my entire life...
What the hell is so funny, after all, about throwing EXPLOSIVES at human beings? There is NO excuse for that, unless you work in a Burger King, in which case, by all means, do your best to assist evolution; you have my blessing. But serious, are these the same people who, as kids, pull the legs off spiders?
Anyway, after calling the police, I felt a little bit better about things. Sort of. And the fireworks display from my roof was fantastic. Instead of watching one fireworks display, I sat up there watching all the neighborhoods light them off. Despite the fact that I think the U.S. goverment is mostly, at this point, a piece of complete garbage (gonna arrest me as a terrorist for that one, Big Bro? Nah, forget it; aren't we only supposed to be harassing dark-skinned folks for that sort of business?), and I tend to think that we completely suck as far as education, culture, environmental stuff, military spending, blah blah blah, I still like watching fireworks on the Fourth of July.
(I also like patriotic music on the Fourth of July, so I played some Marxist French stuff, and Simon & Garfunkel's "America." Why not, you know? Nothing makes me feel more patriotic than a Greyhound -- except maybe the USPS...)
I don't feel very independent. I don't like that.
I also don't like dealing with cops. Even really, really nice ones.
...So don't throw fireworks at me anymore, alright?
I'll figure the "independence" thing out on my own.
Love,
~Helena*