CAUTION: Shoots flaming balls. Do not touch hot wood.

Today is the Fourth of July, which in Grand Cayman means a field trip to Tortuga Liquors and the Grand Harbor bookstore for some illegal in the US fireworks.

One of two Boxes of Fun.

All sorts of crazy in there.

Hobbies & Books.
Where you can buy your crazyass mortor rounds and pick up a toy for your two-year-old all in one stop.

Medi-Mike decided to throw a Super Secret July Fourth party on Seven Mile Beach, so we spent the majority of the afternoon running around getting supplies. We bought way too much beer and liquor (can there ever really be tooooo much?) and a few more pizzas than were necessary. Kip, Robin and I followed Mike to the West end of the island, where he pulled off the road near this little break in the trees that opened up onto the beach. Paul met us out there with his new mini-Pejero jeep, which he promptly drove around on the sand.

Mike had visited the site a few days and before pulled together a nice pile of wood for the bonfire, which of course was missing at this point. So we set off in search of wood for the fire that we were building on top of a suspicious pile of ash left by dirty rotten theives.

Paul 'Bunyan' was our Fire Master

After getting the fire set up and eating some pizza, it was on to the fireworks. The boys decided to empty out all of the mortors into one box for easy access:

Like Christmas morning.

or a Halloween Basket.

The rest of the night was basically spent watching 20 to 30 year old men acting like 5 year olds in a candy store "designing" their own personal fireworks show. If it weren't so damn terrifying, it would have been pretty damn cool.

Alright. It was still pretty damn cool.

Here's some video from the evening, and the rest of the pics:

These are my new freebie Heinekin flips. But wait to get excited:



How Awesome is that?! Between Kip and I there were a gazillion little Heinies all over the sand.

This one's a 4 baller, yo.

Kip loading his first shot.

I made him fake light it for the pic, then I ran about 20 yards away.



The moon was almost full but the night was just as crazy.



They very quickly tired of the one-shot cannon and decided to start roping them together for a real show.



Fire in the sky

He was really happy

These were the only sparklers we could find. They don't mess around with those little Pixie sticks here. These things were 3 feet long and flames shot out of them.

This was the arc I got off my sparkler.

Roasting marshmallows post-fireworks.



After about ten minutes.

I'm joking. It was more like fifteen.

OH! Did I mention we discovered a new type of car? It's called a Honda "Asteroid", and our Friend Who Shall Remain Nameless crash landed it in the sand.

We "painted" the car in photoshop so he would remain anonymous.

Crazy.

The crator left behind by the Honda "Asteroid".

We had a pretty sweet bonfire going towards the end of the night.

Beau and his girlfriend Mandy who was visiting from the States.

Kip chatting with his BFF Drew while smokin a Cuban.

My doctor says my boobs are normal. I beg to differ.

My immigration to The GC required a chest xray (WTF?) to check for Tuberculosis. Because that is just super prevalent here.

Anyhow, I had to get a written report from the doc who read the xray, and this is what I got:

I'm really quite indignant, I wear altogether way too uncomfortable bras & tight T-shirts to be called "Normal".

And to prove this point:

(you might need to click on the pic to see the text. have I mentioned my need for Photoshop?!)

This pic has a double meaning, actually. Not only does it do my chest justice (take that, doc.), but it also shows my support (*snicker*) for my Rossie peeps who are enjoying some Phun with Pharm today/tonight/tomorrow. You guys are gonna rock it, and then you'll rock finals, and then I'll expect all of you to return your full attention to me. *Ahem.* I mean, have a safe trip home and stuff.

I forgot to include the pic of my "After" unpacking. I figured while I have everything there I should go through all of my clothes and weed out unwearables/threadbare/etc.

I have entirely TOO MUCH CRAP.

Oh, and today I got my Open Water card! Yay!! I'm official and can even dive during my trip with dad next week! Except for that whole find an apartment, open a bank account, get car insurance, meet my new peeps, etc. all within 2 business days. Sooo, maybe we'll just settle for some snorkeling. Or a shore dive. Aw, hell.

Terror Alert: Code YELLOW.

Seriously folks. Our gov'ner should be calling out the National Guard, declaring a State of Emergency. The pollen count has reached a critical high.

And my poor poor car is just sooooo sad. Normally she shines bright and green and happy. Now she's a dull chartreuse and no matter how many times I wash her she is just COVERED 5 minutes later. Unfortunately I have not been able to convince my parents that it's about time we cut down the Centenarian+ Oak Tree that canopies our drive. Thus, each year, I live with this:

You can see the dust from HERE!

Ack! My nose runs just looking at this!

My leaf collection. I'm pretty sure I could make a whole new tree.

My windshield. Boo.

What is the point of having a sunroof?

The left side of the shot is the part of the window that doesn't get washed by the wipers. The right side shows one day's worth of junk since driving yesterday. You also have a nice reflection of the hateful tree that causes this nightmare.

I have to clean my wipers before I can use them to clean my window.

Sadface Car.

"View" from the sunroof.

Course I don't want to imply my car is the only victim of the Pervasiveness of Pollen. Here are some pics from around the house:

Patio table. So clean you want to eat off of it, right?

Grapefruit tree via a sea of haze. On the plus side, the buds will bloom soon and that is a scent I want to bottle and sniff all year.

Even the dog's water bowl falls victim to those wretched pollen thingies.

Sadface patio.

Sadface Front Porch.

Sadface Railing.

This is just a small image of the amazing powers of Pollen. It's EVERYWHERE. I'm seriously concerned that if enough of it gets together it will learn to combine into some massive Blob-like form and chase me.



The Bane of My Existence.

Oh, and have you ever smelled pollen hanging in the air? It's like the lovely scent of honeysuckle, except that this honeysuckle hails from the 7th Circle of Hell.

On a lighter note, here are some shots of the cutest Ball of Fluff ever. Well, top ten anyhow.

I am not amused by your camera flash.



Bask in my glory, mere mortal.

You can't handle this amount of cuteness. I'm so cute that to photograph me in color would melt your eyes.

I am weary of your attentions. Leave me now. I must rest.

Oh, Hai. Don't mind me. Just checkin out your butt.