My feet are cold

Last night I went to the FOAM [Friends of Appalachian Music] contra dance for the 1st time, and had an incredibly delicious amount of fun and good times. Why did I neglect to go to that dance for the 1st seven months I lived here? Well, now I know better. I went to the dance with my friend Julie, who let the little bomb drop on the way there that she had just run 18 miles that morning. GAH! And then contra on top of it? Amazing.

Oh, brothers and sisters in humility, I have to say that I really am proud of any and everyone who can bear to be good at something and not brag, but today I can't be counted among you... for I, I effing rocked the dance floor last night. It's not about being better than someone else, or being able to do some fancy schmancy moves or anything, but I was feeling very much like a beautiful, coordinated, graceful dancer. With great rhythm. And a gregarious nature and an inviting personality. Love, love, love the contra dance. I think being about 18 pounds lighter than last time might have something to do with it, and I also have to just marvel again and again at the perfection that is my pair of dancing shoes. I couldn't have done as well without them. I did leave with blisters, though, which were made worse by my going for a walk this afternoon... I was thinking about taking a picture of the blood seeping through the heel of my sock to post on here but I bet you're glad I didn't. So, that's why my feet are cold, I'm airing them out.

I think I neglected to mention the two Swedes who were couchsurfing here this weekend. A young couple, Robin and Maria, who were so fun and sweet and polite and (though I shudder to use the word) chill, it made me feel better about the Swedish in general (my most recent experience with a citizen of that nation was less than grand, mainly because of professional differences, mainly because I was trying to be professional and he was tryng his hardest not to be. Which wouldn't have mattered had I not been sort of in charge of some of his conduct. Bah.) Man, that was a poorly constructed sentance, eh? I wrote 8 pages of Paper in the last 40 hours, and I have 6 more to go.

Ok, that's enough from me for now. K is in Princeton; I miss him.