Friday night, I danced for three hours straight, spinning like a top 50% of the time. Contra-dancing was oh-so-fun. (No, it has nothing to do with being a member of the guerrilla force that opposed a left-wing government in Nicaragua.)
In contra dancing, the ladies all wear twirling skirts. I love wearing twirling skirts.
For the most part, I had experienced partners who pointed me in the right direction. Contradancing reminded me of a mixture of a square dance, an irish jig, and English country dancing.
You know, I'm not the best at today's "normal dancing".
(I am afraid that my normal dancing is like Mia's in the Princess Diaries...
okay, okay, I AM a few steps higher than her "doggy on a dashboard" dance... But really, I am such a mega-super-white girl.)
Happily, I was able to grasp the concept of contradance and go with it. To say I was thrilled that I understood this kind of dancing would be an understatement.
I had a gnawing fear that I would greatly embarrass myself at the dance. ESPECIALLY since I missed the lesson for beginners. Admittedly, I goofed, but everyone was gracious, and luckily I wasn't the only confused one there.
I rejoiced in that fact. I also twirled, swung, and learned some of the lingo.
...words like allemande, gypsy, ladies-chain, hen ...
The dances weren't overly complex, so eventually I begun to understand the patterns and fall in line with the dancing more naturally.
I've decided to wear shoes when I dance in the future. It's suggested that you wear dancing flats or go barefoot when you contradance.
I thought, "Hey, I love going barefoot, so why not?" It was fun for the first bit, but then blisters came for a visit. Talk about major pain.
I'm finding some dancing flats. My feet were KILLING me, but the fun of dancing overruled the pain. My brain didn't process that I had beat my feet up until the end of the evening, on the ride home.
So I had a major workout on Friday, despite it being a "rest day". I made up for it with extra rest, though.
I had a sinking suspicion I wasn't feeling so well.
Saturday was a great day, but I could tell I wasn't 100%. I went to see Social Network with a friend (don't see that movie. just don't), ate some yummy Cooper's bbq (do eat that. just do), I went home...
...and then I came down with a fever and a killer sore throat.
Who knows where I picked it up.
I positively hate being sick. It brings out the worst in me. It really, truly does. Ask my sisters.
Sickness makes me tired and irritable, obviously.
I get totally zoned out, like I can't focus for anything. I just sort of shuffle around, drink hot tea, and sleep.
It makes me feel OCD (guess who cleaned her room?)
Ugh, I hate feeling that way.
I'm working on not being such a baby about sickness, but I have heard that redheads have a lower tolerance for pain...
I guess that doesn't mean I can use that as an excuse.
I'm almost as right as rain today. (question: how right is that, anyways?)
After sleeping yesterday and chillaxing, my body is healing itself.
Yay immune system! Good on yourself!
I can't decide if it's a good idea to try to run today, or if I should try to take *one* more rest day. I'm a few days behind schedule...
There goes my voice. It's odd to hear myself speak. My voice keeps cracking from the bug I have lodged in my throat.
Speaking of bugs, here's some of my favorite butterfly pictures (Blue is best):
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