Went trapezing yesterday. No big deal*. Color me Lollobrigida, y'all. It was particularly exciting because my grandfather used to work for the Barnum & Bailey museum in Florida. He was also an artist, and he did some amazing sketches and paintings of the various circus artists which cultivated many a fantasy of running away and joining the circus.
|this is not my grandfather's work. I just like it.|
and my abs and arms may feel like this:
it's all worth it because I did this:
Note: if you can't see the video above, try checking it out on my Facebook page here.
Yup, that's me. And, to put a cap on my badass deal, I did all that with what I thought was a cut, but which turned out to be a days old splinter.
So, instead of just a splinter, I had an infected blister-splinter monster. And my lovely fiance had to cut it out. That's right. As in, slice open the infected blister-splinter-monster to retrieve the piece of wood from my finger. It was gross. And I didn't even flinch**.
But before all that grossitude, I had a lovely day with my friend trapezing and then wandering the city looking for Korean BBQ. It was perfect. And looked liked this:
|I love New York.|
|I live here.|
And then it looked like bibimbob all over my face. So, that was my day.
P.S. The raspberry mousse passover cake looked like this:
*It's a big damn deal.
** I will admit: my level of pride over my lack of flinching seriously compromises my badassitude.