Teaching and traveling, one cocktail at a time
I distinctly remember connecting to this line in The Great Gatsby, but it's really just an excuse for the basic af fall photos. Don't worry, no pumpkin spice lattes.
My annual disappearance into the Swedish countryside.
Instead of thinking about the shit storm that was 2016, I'm just gonna reminisce about all the cool places I got to visit! Hooray for navel-gazing oblivion!
That one time I came to Norway to swing and I forgot to be a tourist.
I realize that I don't talk about my day-to-day life on here very often. I remember once talking to Monika, with whom I exchange blog comments frequently, and she remarked that she didn't even know my name. (It's Arielle.) It's not that I'm trying to be any enigma, but I just can't help how mysterious …
I've spent a week at Herrang Swing dancing camp in Sweden, and strangely I've met more Norwegians than anything else. I knew going in that Scandinavian men were generally tall and good-looking, but what no one tells you is that they're rubbish at flirting or making the first move. To add insult to injury, I …
