The theme of the weekend was "One More."
Accentuating this underlying theme was the celebration of two milestones, and what is an anniversary if not the acknowledgement of something plus a full cycle of time. In a sense, an anniversary is the celebration of one more.
As previously discussed, something's briefness makes it substantially more interesting and worth while. Weekends, anniversaries, afternoons at the ballpark, a game of Nine Lives...life.
All good things, as they say, end. Toasts were made with newly named drinks and every last bit of fun and shenanigans were squeezed out of the weekend's fanfare.
Noteworthy to say the least, a group consisting of myself, the wife and the neighbor friends partook in a rousing impaired Jazz Hands toast, with Pawm Hobba in hand (mine anyways, I can only account for the contents of my own beverage), we saluted the 50% anniversary of 365 Days of Jazz Hands in deserving fashion. Justice was afforded to the monumental occasion.
We enjoyed the confetti. We enjoyed the balloons. We enjoyed the parade floats and marching band tunes.
We celebrated in style. We embraced with a roar. We enjoyed one final, refreshing drink and then had one more.
Officially, today is 49% and change, consisting of a decimal point I do not care to compute. So all of this pomp and circumstance was technically deployed during the final ascent and we have now reached the summit.
Let's take a moment to enjoy the expansive view, for tomorrow is Monday, July 1st and marks the official 50% mark. A flag will be fixed at the peak, but then we shall begin our descent. Let the beginning of the end begin.
Today's Jazz Hands will see you at the bottom. Day one-hundred and eighty-one complete.
Accentuating this underlying theme was the celebration of two milestones, and what is an anniversary if not the acknowledgement of something plus a full cycle of time. In a sense, an anniversary is the celebration of one more.
As previously discussed, something's briefness makes it substantially more interesting and worth while. Weekends, anniversaries, afternoons at the ballpark, a game of Nine Lives...life.
All good things, as they say, end. Toasts were made with newly named drinks and every last bit of fun and shenanigans were squeezed out of the weekend's fanfare.
Noteworthy to say the least, a group consisting of myself, the wife and the neighbor friends partook in a rousing impaired Jazz Hands toast, with Pawm Hobba in hand (mine anyways, I can only account for the contents of my own beverage), we saluted the 50% anniversary of 365 Days of Jazz Hands in deserving fashion. Justice was afforded to the monumental occasion.
We enjoyed the confetti. We enjoyed the balloons. We enjoyed the parade floats and marching band tunes.
We celebrated in style. We embraced with a roar. We enjoyed one final, refreshing drink and then had one more.
Officially, today is 49% and change, consisting of a decimal point I do not care to compute. So all of this pomp and circumstance was technically deployed during the final ascent and we have now reached the summit.
Let's take a moment to enjoy the expansive view, for tomorrow is Monday, July 1st and marks the official 50% mark. A flag will be fixed at the peak, but then we shall begin our descent. Let the beginning of the end begin.
Today's Jazz Hands will see you at the bottom. Day one-hundred and eighty-one complete.
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