I'm afraid mine wasn't too eventful. I was at the shore hanging out with my family. Went to a barbeque held by my parents' friends, then back to Lavalette for the fireworks and continued drinking. The only thing worth mentioning actually took place well after the fireworks, after I had consumed my body weight in vodka and Newman's Own Lemonade.
Four of us went to the beach to praise Jah.... Having gone from a frame of mind that craved fart jokes and loud music to an intoxicaded, transcendent experience moments later, I soon found myself standing with my feet in the surf, waxing philosophical. And by "waxing philosophical", a phrase I use loosely, I mean I called the others down to stand with their feet in the surf with me.
It went a little something like this, "Guys, you guys, you guys, guys." Once they had joined me I continued. "There are very few things in this world you will encounter over which you have absolutely no control." Then, waiving my left arm as if to reveal to them the presence of the ocean for the very first time, I continued, "The ocean is one of them."
Everyone was enthralled with my insight... Which speaks volumes of our state of mind. We stood there in silence for a good 10 minutes to 3 hours until my brother's buddy fell to the ground for no apparent reason. The reason, we later agreed, was that the waves crashing at our feet threw our already disturbed equilibriums even further off. For the subsequent twenty minutes or so, every time any one of us attempted to take a step in any direction, we fell helplessly to the sand.
I don't remember going home though I'm told I went reluctantly, almost requiring the use of force, in fact. The next thing I knew, I woke up in my bed accompanied by all the sand in the world and a savage hangover. It looked like I had fallen asleep in a fucking sandbox. Needless to say, when my mother woke me up for breakfast she was unimpressed. Neither was I.
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