Wednesday, November 02, 2011

An Explosive Weekend

Some of you can probably guess what this blog post is about, based on my recent Facebook statuses. Don't worry, this blog post has a happy ending. Just sit tight, we'll get through this together.

Last Thursday night my sister arrived in town for her long-awaited weekend trip. I'd been working an extra hour every day so I could take a half day on Friday and we had big plans. After hitting a bit of traffic, we arrived in plenty of time to pick Marci up and then we headed back to Provo. Drew had rehearsal for the stake play so we planned to pick up dinner on the way. Our original plan was Gandalfo's but as the time got later, we switched gears and went to In-n-Out instead. We loaded up on the burgers, milkshakes and fries and raced onward to get Drew to his rehearsal only an hour late. We arrived only to find out they didn't need him after all so we turned around and went home instead, where we feasted on our delicacies.

Some friends joined us for the Project Runway finale and a good time was had by all. Eventually we all went to bed, where I for one totally passed out. Fast forward to around 4:00. I woke up, thinking something fell on my head (nothing had). I tried to go back to sleep but was really uncomfortable and kind of sick to my stomach. I thought it was just Aunt Irma's doing, but a while later Drew woke up, also feeling sick.

Do you see where this is going? I'll tell you: the bathroom. The vomit fairy visited me first, then several more times before poor Drewbles managed to finally throw up. In between episodes we sat in the bathroom, laid in bed or fell asleep on a pile of clothes on the floor (that'd be me). As we like to say now, In-n-Out has a whole new meaning for us.

The short version of all of this is that we spent Friday lying on the couch, feeling gross. By the early afternoon we'd stopped throwing up but we couldn't do much else. Do you want to know how many times I threw up? Do you?? Nine. NINE TIMES. That's a personal record. Don't worry, I'll spare you the other details.

So, Friday was pretty much a bust. My sister felt kind of blah all day but luckily it didn't go beyond that. I say luckily because who else would have made us toast and gone to get us medicine? We passed the hours by watching movies, TV shows and falling asleep.

Saturday dawned and we felt better, though not quite up to speed. I mean that literally because we went off to do a 10K. Was it crazy? Well, what's crazier--doing a 10K after food poisoning or wasting $70? But luckily we all survived--Drew even placed! It was Marci's first 10K and she did great, coming in under an hour. I was *ahem* after an hour BUT I ran the whole thing, and no one else in our trio could say that. I'll take my bragging points where I can when it comes to running.
(Since it was a Halloween costume race, Drew dressed as a ninja.)
The rest of the weekend was spent by trying to cram in everything we wanted to do in the time we had left. We saw Three Musketeers (better than expected, though still flawed), ate Thai food, saw Captain America in the dollar theater, got shakes from the Purple Turtle, had friend time and occasionally felt queasy. I also made a cake--but that's a story for another blog post. Before we knew it, we were going up to the airport on Monday morning (at 5...gross), dropped Marci off and went back to workday routine.

And that, my friends, is the story of the weekend. It began very unpleasantly, but it turned out all right in the end. If we had gone for our original Gandalfo's plan, things would have been different. If we had known Drew didn't need to be at rehearsal, things would have been different. Maybe I've been seeing too much LOST lately, but it seems like it was meant to be. Fate can be a vomitous task master.

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