I Bleed Americana

If anyone even bothers to look at this time wasting page of the Internet anymore (because seriously, thirteen days on the Internet seems to be five years in actual life. Don't these people ever do anything else?) (I am productive occasionally am a hypocrite who also rarely never does anything else.)
Except I went to ORLANDO and other places that pale in comparison to ORLANDO and the only reason Orlando makes these places pale is because The Wizarding Freaking World of Harry Freaking Potter is in Orlando.
And it was glorious.
But we're not going to talk about things like that (in other words, things that will MAKE QUESTA CRY TEARS OF JEALOUSY).
Instead, I prepared a special treat for all of you today. *rubs hands together gleefully*
BAM!

The Interesting and Cool Story about the Day of Mind-Blowing Internet Superhero FRAS

(The Story for which Generations have Waited, Cried, Killed, and Pleaded and WILL NOW HAVE...FOR FREE)*

I spent four hours in a boiling minivan this morning, because it was the last leg of our road trip. My family members were mutually kind of sick and tired of each other's company, and glad to reach home. My brother K actually hugged the house. Which was overkill. But he's little(ish) and allowed to overkill like that.
I unpacked the car and my suitcase, watched Hairspray for the fifty-thousandth time (because I am a huge sucker for that movie, and it has a much better plot than the 1988 version. I mean, in that version, Amber von Tussle acts like she's five years old. Get some real insults and then you can open your idiot mouth), and then started catching up on my Internet content, and there was a lot.

YOU HAVE BEEN SLAPPED BY BRILLIANCE. FEEL FREE TO GROVEL AND/OR LEAVE MONEY.**

Topic change without transition: There are two reasons this post is called "I Bleed Americana":

1. I have been trying to use this title for a post for a few weeks now because
2. I like the cadence of "Americana" but
3. I wanted to use it at an appropriate time, and what better time than when I hear fireworks outside my door? It's American Independence Day. The day when we were deprived of British accents because our forefathers wanted freedom. *coughs, straightens nonexistent tie, reminds self about how she is not bitter*

Lord, this is a messy post.

But I went and saw this really nice fireworks display two nights ago at Stone Mountain, in Georgia. It was really bright and loud and Southern and completely unlike any sort of fireworks I have seen. Georgians know how to do the Fourth of July. Even though people outside my house have been setting off fireworks since two o'clock this afternoon, Southerners Do It Better.™

I just don't generally identify myself as American, although I was born here and have never been raised anywhere else. A girl, a teenager, a student, an aspiring writer, a reader, a fangirl, all of these tend to come before American.

I don't know if it made me feel more patriotic. But it was something interesting to consider.
Happy Fourth of July, self. And everyone else, because even if your country didn't become independent from Britain today, we can all celebrate because we're not dead yet.

*Slight exaggeration DID NOT OCCUR. The author is a pillar of gorgeousness and doesn't have any self-esteem issues that she feels she can fix by writing nicely about herself on the Internet. Nope. Nope. Not at all. No way. No.
**The author may actually be is a complete narcissistic fool.