I also like knowing that somewhere, a 64-year old is finally enjoying her "Sweet 16" party.
As someone who studies both Britain and France in the 18th century, I have been forced to master the combination of Gregorian (French) and Julian (British) calendar dates (the British were 11 days behind, and their New Year began on March 25th until they adopted the Gregorian calendar in 1752). It's often confusing, and sloppy note taking can lead to real headaches when putting together a chronology of events. But it is just these kinds of idiosyncrasies that make me appreciate the ridiculous side of humanity.
Tomorrow we will wake up and enjoy a rainy February 29th for the first time in four years. This is less shocking a prospect than what the British endured in 1752: sleepy Britons went to bed on September 2nd and woke up on September 14th. Eleven days dropped from the calendar and everyone went about their business.
Of course, I realize that these adjustments were made for scientific reasons related to the earth's movement around the sun and blah blah blah. But, c'mon. This is time travel!
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