My St Patrick's Day Included:
-a bagpipe moshpit
-obligatory green shamrock facepaint
-The 12 Toasts of Ireland, a rousing carol composed late in the evening/early in the morning, consisting of 12 verses. Unfortunately I can only remember the last: "-aand Irish Sea Shantyssss!"
In retrospect it would have been much better if March 17th did not fall on a Wednesday this year.
It is the homestretch of midterms and recital prep before spring break, and I am so glad. I don't really have time to write this right now, but I can't look at ANOVA tables anymore, so here we are. I've been working on my statistics projects all week, and the "F" statistic (the variance distribution of the ratio of treatment error over mean square error) has taken on a new meaning for me. I'm heading back to Kentucky over spring break, and I am relieved. Nothing sounds better to me right now than accidentally cleaning my paint brush in Earl Grey, falling asleep under the old oak with a novel in my lap, pickin till it's time for breakfast, and dancing blisters into the bottoms my feet.
Even with the mid-semester press, my friends are making sure I get out of the library and live when I can. I've never been more grateful for their encouragement than I was yesterday. The evening began at the ever-classy Quick and Delicious (a town diner that is exactly as charming as it sounds) with a "plate o taters," and ended in a red dress and low dip to the crooning of Nina Simone. This morning I fell asleep grinning after a night of shuffling/twirling/dipping/spinning/laughing at the blues and swing dances. My calves ache, I literally danced through the bottom of my stockings, and it felt great! I'm going to count both of these as marks of a successful night.
(Obies take note, there's more dancing to come: tonight (Saturday) at 8:30 Wilder Main for swing dancing, then from midnight to 2 at the Cat for blues )