Hi.

Welcome to my blog. I document my adventures in travel. It’s partly for me, mostly for my mom.

Celebrating 4th of July on Roosevelt Island

My memories of the 4th of July all entail teen squeals of delight over the arrival of the Wildwood Boys--the male campers who would be bussed over to Camp Mataponi to watch the fireworks after a day of watermelon eating contests, water balloon fights, pie throws, and kissing booths.

Those are very good but very old memories. In fact, I can't remember celebrating the 4th of July in a long time. America's birthday seems to have gotten lost in the mix during my young adult years. I have been so busy trying to get out of America that I guess I forgot about it.

But, as I've mentioned here before, travel made me appreciate what my country has just as much as it clarified the reality of what our so-called American Exceptionalism is lacking.

What's so exceptional about America? Pie. Or, at least a very good, life-long friend who bakes pies. Three pies, to be precise. Eating pie against a backdrop of fireworks isn't too shabby, either. But what is really amazing is that this is a thirteen year friendship. We maintained it through three years of pre-teen awkwardness, four years of third-party spats and high school angst, four years of long-distance topped with midterms and finals, and two years of six to thirteen hour time differences. Yet, I was able to move halfway round the world, settle in a new city, and still enjoy her home-made pie(s). Isn't that worth celebrating?

 It's at least worth a couple of fireworks over Astoria.

After the annual New York 4th of July fireworks migrated from one river to another, crowds shifted away from Roosevelt Island, leaving a family-oriented, BBQ induced calm. There were people in Lighthouse Park to be sure, but it was homey.



I laid in the sun reading news then watch the sun go down. I watched as the street lamps flickered on, the sky drew itself shut, and the fireworks spotted over different buildings in Queens.


Now that I have been in the US for almost a year, I miss travel. Desperately. But, when I was traveling I missed my people acutely. Living abroad does bring unique ways of forming fast friendships, but it doesn't speed up the process by thirteen years, it doesn't factor in the past--and it is never a replacement for home.





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