One of the benefits of living so close to the action in a metropolitan (but not humongous) city, is that everything is pretty much right out our front door.

Last weekend, we headed off to a Celebrity Chili Cookoff that was only two blocks away on the waterfront. We had some chili (some good [and spicy! mmmmmm], and some was downright putrid), we drank plenty of beer, and tooted our drunk asses all the way home. Later that night, we watched some decorated boats and fireworks from our balcony.

The next morning, we woke up and noticed that there were a bunch of people congregating in the street below our condo.

PARADE!

Except...

It was one of the most broke parades I've ever seen. It looked like cars had accidentally driven into the middle of the parade and decided to stay, wave, and honk their horns. Some of it was cute. A parade is a parade. I enjoyed waving to the little kids (half of whom were asleep) that were riding on the floats.

Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade can keep their elaborate blown up cartoon characters, and magical Santa Claus / Winter Wonderland floats....we've got the College of Charleston Belly Dancer Club.

Which...I don't know...seem like they probably spend a lot of time inside. Far far away from sun. Which could be true, since I'm not exactly sure how outdoorsy the sport of belly dancing is. And I haven't seen any belly dancing bangles in L.L. Bean lately.

Aside: Like I should be one to talk. My skin borders on transparent. I scare little children with the reflective glow from my body.



To each his own. I mean...I was in Econ Club. Now that was a rowdy, midriff-baring bunch of pale people.