Ceilidh

I feel tired, so I don't think this post is going to be very well written. Bleh.

So, I thought I was all better and the sickness was in my head, and then last night I started having cold symptoms in my throat, so I thought I was getting a different sickness, but today I'm back to nausea. I guess I can pretty much say: I'm sick.

Last night, I went to a Scottish ceilidh (basically, a barn dance, but not in a barn) in honor of Burn's Night. Robert Burns was a Scottish poet, and he's basically a national hero. You'll never believe it: I ate haggis. And I liked it! Still, it mystifies me how the Scottish evolved to be able to eat haggis, drink copious amounts of booze, and then whirl and hop around very quickly for hours without puking it all up. I was not able to do it. I only lasted a couple dances before I realized I was in danger of losing my dinner. The dancing also loosened up my lungs, so that I kept coughing up phlegm I hadn't even realized was down there. I now know that ceilidhs and illness do not mix. It was still fun, though, even just watching from the sidelines. There were many lovely men in kilts, but they were all there with dates, so our group ended up dancing with each other. Our Scottish classmate, Cheryl, read a Robert Burn's poem to the whole group (about 500 people). She's so energetic and a great performer. She'd make a fantastic teacher. I'll post pictures when I'm feeling less lazy.

Um, that's all for now. I'm off to an exhibit about War and Medicine.