I’ve been reading An American Plague: The True and Terrifying Story of the Yellow Fever Epidemic of 1793. And coughing. A lot. The two seem tied together somehow.

But besides making me sick, it’s a great book. GREAT. I’m serious. I’m learning all sorts of interesting things about 18th century medicine, culture, the early days of American government…I love how books like this tie all those things together.

And lest you think my life is all dull and coughing and nonfiction, we had a dance party last night! Um, yeah. If you happened to be walking past our apartment last night and gazed through our open blinds, I hope you laughed. Really hard. There was some talk of blackmail to try and get us to not put pictures on our blogs. Frankly, I’m just feeling too lazy to download pictures, but might if provoked.

Speaking of blackmail, we’ve decided that the only reason our incredibly awkward landlord allows our crazy neighbor (the one that smokes in a non-smoking apartment, goes on ten quick car trips around the block an hour, and threatens to kill other neighbors) to continue to live here is that Crazy Neighbor (CN) is blackmailing Awkward Landlord (AL). They were, so the rumor goes, college roommates…and CN knows what AL did and is blackmailing him to get an apartment. It’s the only logical conclusion, right? Right?

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