How long has it been since someone you let in has given what I gave to you?

Basically, I epically failed at my attempt at daily updating. It's a combination of:

1) Lack of time

2) Supreme laziness

3) Lack of interesting things about which to write

But here I am. So we'll say this is a. . .monthly entry I'm making. That way, if I update more than once a month, I'll be exceedingly proud of myself.

There's actually been quite a bit going on and, of course, I don't remember half of it at this point. I was going to try to see if I could get the designer job that opened up at The Peak, because I do like designing, but the night I did the front page, I realized I like editing/writing/etc. more. Because I was more concerned with rewriting a poorly written story than I was with having a really awesome layout. It's the English major in me, I suppose. Plus, I get to stay at my desk out in the open area of the lobby instead of having to move to the newsroom. While I occasionally hate that I have no one to talk to when I'm at my desk, I'm also glad that I don't have to be in the newsroom to have to deal with all the drama that crops up every now and then.

We've got our big international festival here for the next week and a half, and from what I've seen so far, it's a prety huge deal. I had no idea this place could have something so huge and. . .well, international. We've got performing group here from Canada (Nova Scotia), Argentina, Chinese Taipei, Japan, Russia, France, Slovakia, Belarus and Trinidad. And, of course, the U.S.

CousinCasey and I went to the big dance preview thing the other night and it was amazing. The Trinidad people limboed to ridiculous lows under a flaming limbo pole.

That made it all the more. . .embarassing, for lack of a better word, that the U.S. was represented by cloggers. And banjo players.

Welcome to the South, y'all!!

But seriously. It went on entirely too long and, while they're good dancers and all, that's one of the reasons people all over the world think we're dumb and hickish. Because we choose banjos to represent us at an international festival. An international festival where people dance on stilts and limbo under flaming pieces of wood while wearing headdresses made of feathers. I understand that I'm in the South and that the festival is taking place in the South, but still. Flaming limbo poles > clogs and banjos.

I'm not knocking cloggers. I couldn't do it. I'm just saying I don't want to be represented by cloggers.

So after the preview, everyone went out behind the performance venue and partied. They had food (which I didn't eat. I was full from dinner.) and cups and cups of beer and a few kinds of wine. I didn't have a lot. CousinCasey got fairly inebriated and danced with both a Canadian and a Russian. The Russian (complete with big, tall, furry hat) pulled her from the crowd and danced with her. I took pictures, as I do.

It was an awesome party. I also talked to a French guy, and it was pretty cool. Because when he was kind of talking to himself, trying to figure out how to say what he was trying to say in English, I could understand what he was saying in French. So those 5 1/2 years of French were not for naught.

Friday, the big parade went down Main Street. I took a bazillion pictures during that, too.

I also knew starting out that I was going to get sunburned. Because I'm the whitest white girl in North America. I was wearing this three-quarter sleeved sweater over a tank top, and it was at this point, I had a decision to make. I could either leave the sweater on and have a really weirdly shaped sunburn and be ridiculously hot or I could remove the sweater, have a bigger but more symmetrical sunburn, and be less hot than if I were wearing a sweater.

I took the sweater off, and that may not be the smartest thing I've ever done. I was an interesting shade of purple yesterday. The lesson here is that, one, I'm whiter than holy hell, and two, I need to have sunscreen within 10 feet of me at all times.

And the last thing I have to mention before I go to work. . .the world is really, really small. This woman brought in a press release about her grandson getting a job. I recognized the city the guy lived in because it's where I went to college. Then, I realized I knew the guy's name. I've never met him, but we're facebook friends somehow. I looked him up on facebook and realized it was the same guy. Then, in an attempt to figure out how we knew each other, I looked at who we knew in common. He's friends with Derek (from work)'s brother. I asked Derek about it and, apparently, Derek's dad and this guy's mom used to date.

How weird is that?

Fin.