So I was rejoicing because of the whole foot-in-a-surgical-shoe thing meant I didn’t have to pack any left-foot shoes for my trip to Michigan/Chicago this week - yay! more shoes!
But in my rush this morning, I forgot to put on the two rings that I wear everyday - one since my high school graduation and the other since college graduation - and I will be at home until August 9. With no time to go back to my apartment today before my flight.
The Dancing Plague (or Dance Epidemic) of 1518 was a case of dancing mania that occurred in Strasbourg, France (then part of the Holy Roman Empire) in July 1518. Numerous people took to dancing for days without rest, and, over the period of about one month, most of the people died from heart attack, stroke, or exhaustion. (via lamusiqueestlavie)
So, I’m a big history nerd and things like this really intrigue me. I’ve been known to spend hours watching the History Channel (I know, I KNOW). I’m also that person who quotes you random facts about things that you probably had no real desire to know about. Sigh.
Anywho, that being said, I just spent a good 45 minutes reading up on these dancing plagues/manias that affected Europeans in the 1300-1500s. Seriously interesting and actually kind of depressing/scary. Now considering purchasing a book on it as well.
Tell me one of the most magical things you have ever seen. Tell me the scariest thing you have ever seen. :)
Hmm… most magical?
Well, when I was 11, my grandpa (who had been a farmer for pretty much his whole life) passed away. It was really hard for me and my entire family because it was sudden and we didn’t really have a chance to say goodbye. However, a few hours after he passed and we were back at my grandparent’s farm with my grandma, we discovered that one of my grandpa’s cows was going into labor. While watching a calf being born isn’t exactly beautiful, the idea that new life was being born on the farm my grandpa had lived on his entire life (literally - he was born in the farmhouse) just after he had passed away made us all cope with the loss a little easier. We named that little calf Bank (a combo of Boyd Frank, my grandpa’s first and middle names) and he lived on the farm until he passed away himself a few years ago.
And the scariest? My dad has surgery last year on his spinal chord, and while I didn’t see the actual surgery, seeing him in the hospital bed after was pretty scary. You always see your parents as the strong, stable forces in your life (at least, I have) and it was hard to see him so fragile. Either that or the ginormous spider that was in John’s room on Saturday. Sheesh. That thing was SCARY. I don’t do spiders very well.
But then little things happen that make me fall in love with it all over again (case in point: lounging on blankets in Meridian Hill Park, traipsing all over Chinatown with girlfriends on a Wednesday night just having a blast, free drinks at Grand Central whenever we go, impromptu brunch on a Sunday afternoon, playing softball right next to the Lincoln Memorial… the list goes on and on…)
But I think my absolute favorite thing about living in D.C. are the friends I’ve made here (awwww cheese-fest!) But really, I lived in Chicago before coming here, and while I love, love, love Chicago, I had a harder time making friends (but those I did are wonderful!) Part of that was due to the fact that I had some wonderful friends living here before I even came, but I’ve since met people I simply couldn’t imagine living without. And for that I say “Thank you D.C.!”
So, my answer isn’t very “foodie,” but I just love Busboys and Poets. I know it’s sort of a chain now, but there’s just something about that place that I love. Probably the fact that the 14 and V location is about a 5-minute walk from my house… But, really. I’ve been known to spend hours there catching up with good friends over drinks, then dinner, then dessert… Or grabbing brunch with roomies… or celebrating special occasions with some champagne… or grabbing drinks and a good chat before a night out… or taking family there whenever they’re in town. Busboys was one of the first ever places I went to when I moved to D.C. and it’s kind of been a constant in my dining life.
I haven’t ever allowed questions before on my blog, simply because I didn’t think anyone would want to ask anything, and who knows, you still might not want to ask anything! But if you do, feel free to mosey on over here and ask away!
Such is the state of the media business these days: frantic and fatigued. Young journalists who once dreamed of trotting the globe in pursuit of a story are instead shackled to their computers, where they try to eke out a fresh thought or be first to report even the smallest nugget of news — anything that will impress Google algorithms and draw readers their way.
“I’m not ashamed of being pale. I don’t see why I should be. It’s my natural colour, it’s the way my skin is supposed to look, and there should be nothing wrong with that. In fact there is nothing wrong with that, except in the minds of a few people who seem to believe that pale isn’t interesting, and that the only purpose of a vacation is to get a suntan.”
Loved this article!!! I can totally relate.
In recent years I have finally started to embrace my pale skin. First from a “there’s just no point in trying, I CAN’T tan” point of view. (For the record, as a child I would get quite tan in the summer. Then at some point - I think around puberty - I suddenly lost the ability. I don’t even burn, really. Just turn a bit pink, get sore to the touch, then peel. A couple summer’s ago at the lake I used a ”tan enhancer” cream to try and score that elusive tan and I literally BLISTERED all over, but wasn’t much darker than before. I think it was that incident that killed any desires I had to be tan.)
But now I actually think pale is pretty. Not just on other people (the celebrities I find the most attractive ARE NOT brown, bronze or *eek* orange) but on myself as well. And it IS healthier…tanning is basically just killing your skin. And causes wrinkles. And freckles. And moles. AND CANCER!!!
Besides, Twilight has made “pale” even than ever. ;)
THIS. Yes, I poke fun at myself and say that I’m see-through, but really? It’s me and I’m OK with being pale!