You see Target had to get the celebrations started. It was really nice of them to spend however many millions of dollars for that fireworks show to celebrate my birthday but they were a couple hours early doing so and so it interupted my viewing of The Hills Have Eyes, already sort of scary, but even scarier when you think Manhattan is being bombed. I then went up on my roof to witness the long, long bombing of the sky. It made me happy.

And it also made all the Puerto Ricans in my neighborhood happy too. Today, I was walking home from the video store when a little mini Puerto Rican parade happened, cars taking over the traffic, people marching down Union Avenue, screaming, shirtless, and waving giant flags. There is something so on the verge of anarchy this weekend. You can hear it when the news people interview the co-op owners on Fifth Avenue who defend their decisions to put up plywood around their buildings to protect their flowerbeds from all those people. And the amount of Puerto Ricans and how they take to the streets astounds me - it could so easily turn into a revoultion it seems. And tonight, firewords are being set off dangerously close to my house, terrifying me that someone's rooftop is going to be set ablaze. I hear large crowds of people yelling in the street. There are block parties all around my house in anticipation of the parade tomorrow. It has me a little on edge and now I want to get out of my house and dance in someplace, anyplace, because it is 95 percent humidity outside I heard, and I want to be inside - even if I get hot, dancing, because now I am sticky and don't like it and the firecrackers are making me nervous. And I am out of gin.