Today we finally decided on what colors Ed will paint our house. Currently, it is a light taupe with forest green trim. We liked it when we selected it five years ago but now we hate it and the trim is cracked and faded, so it is clearly time to repaint. The back of our house is mottled with a camouflage of paint trials--deep yellowy forest green, deep forest green with a hint of blue, medium sagey green, light almost lime green, a yellowy Army green, a butterscotchy yellow and finally the color we chose was a lighter version of the deep yellowy forest green called Minnesota Pines and a white trim color called Kitten White. Joey loves the name. The door will be Colonial Red, a rich brick red. It was a difficult decision, mostly for Ed. I liked all the colors except the bluish forest green. But now we are both on board with the color of the siding and the trim and the door so Ed can order the paint and get cracking.

This afternoon we went to Fort Vancouver in Vancouver, WA, to hang out and watch the fireworks. There was a stage where raucous music was performed all day (though we were pretty far way from the stage which meant that all we could hear was the driving bass beat most of the time). Along the entry road to the fort were vendors of all shapes and sizes and products. Outside the fort, there was a little carnival set up where Jaimie and I took Joey and her son Alex to go for rides.

When I attend events like this, I am left wondering where are the people who look like me and act like me? Mostly what I see there are the dregs of society with missing teeth, glazed, drunken eyes, thick tufts of hair peeking out of stained tank tops, children in dirty clothes or inappropriate clothes for either the heat or lack thereof. And teenagers. Lots and lots of teenagers of every shape and size. These are people I know exist but only see at festivals and carnivals and fireworks. I think it's good for me to see these people from time to time to remind me that there are other people who share this city of mine who live lives that are completely different from mine.

I risk sounding elitest and snobbish, but I'm glad I'm not one of them. I grew up in a family that might have qualified for acceptance in that group (well, we all had most of our teeth, at least in front and my parents didn't get drunk at public festivals but we were the working class poor barely scraping by for many years, wearing hand-me-downs from friends and thrift store finds) but I always knew that I wanted more from life so I got good grades, went to college, married a fellow alum, and am able to enjoy and provide my daughter with a much different lifestyle than what I grew up with. My sisters did the same thing. I'm not sure where I'm going with this. I guess it's just a realization that I could have continued on with where I was, gotten a dead-end job after high school and married someone doing the same same thing and lived a completely different life. I would have been like my parents and most of the people they knew and associated with. It wouldn't have been out of the ordinary at all. And I probably wouldn't be here writing about it in Diaryland.

I'm still pretty sure I'd have all my front teeth, though.

--L