I recently had a meeting at the Pentagon, which happens to be where a good friend of mine works. And she's raved about a workout class there that is so tough she nearly vomits. This is a friend I've had numerous adventures with, including some crazy sporting activities like adventure races and deciding one day that -We Should Row Crew! So she and I actually get excited about activities that make you nearly vomit.
Because we are tough chicks like that.
(not really. She is maybe, but I think my Goldfish Poodledom takes over and I just get Really Excited about new things, even if said things are causing me pain...for possible explanation, see: Where I Huffed Burning Styrofoam During College here)
Anyway, I was explaining this to a man in my meeting and his response was:
"There are much easier ways to vomit than taking a workout class."
Which made me laugh becuase obviously the vomiting itself is not WHY we like the class, it's the fact that the class is so challenging it makes you want to die. Why can't anyone understand why that's a good quality?
Anyway, all this talk of vomiting makes me laugh for another reason because when I think back to some of my favorite stories, many of them have one unfortunate thing in common - me tossing my cookies somewhere totally inappropriate.
I started thinking about different places/activities that have fallen victim to my inopportune nausea...
And once again, this all may be TMI, but I can explain each one. And because I'm supposed to be writing a paper and don't want to, I WILL explain each one :)
The first and fourth photos, I've already explained here and here. One happened right after crossing the finish line in a 1/2 marathon and one was because I got seasick...while surfing. Sigh.
The second refers to a family vacation to Cancun which I'll tell more about later. But basically, my dad and I tried snorkling together. And after smelling exhaust on the little boat that took us out to sea, then struggling a bit in the water (I'll explain that later too), we climb back on the boat - nauseous. And I kid you not, my dad and I are all smiling, climbing back into the boat. And we stand up, look at eachother -
then both turn and lose it over the side of the boat simultaneously.
It was a sort of bonding experience that really never needs to be repeated.
The third photo refers to a mud hut I helped build in Ethiopia. It belonged to a sweet grandma who had been living without a roof - so she was very happy to see us. At least until I lost my breakfast...on her property. Correction, I didn't lose my breakfast - that was the problem. I hadn't eaten anything - but I had taken a malaria pill. Apparently that can make you sick! So here I arrive with my church group all smiling, ready to build this woman's house - and I immediatly get sick in her yard. REAL nice gift from America.
The last photo refers to one of my many "Chinatown Bus" trips to NYC. Those busses take you from D.C. to New York in about four hours for about the cost of a few Starbucks Mochas.
I take them all the time because I'm cheap.
But you get what you pay for and I've had several incidents on them, which I'll tell some other time. But THIS incident in particular was because I had the brilliant plan to CHANGE CLOTHES IN THE BATHROOM on the way. And I don't know if you have ever spent much time in the back of a bus swirving into the largest city in America, but it's not a peaceful ride.
And I got sick.
(Shockingly, I also got asked out on a date...but that's another story too)
And one of the craziest times does not have a representative photo because it was in someone else's yard --
My childhood piano teacher's.
This was NOT when I was a child. I was in college. And once again, I was with my father.
I've mentioned I spent the first 13 years of my life in Washington State. After my family moved to the South, we went back to visit a couple times. On one trip, my relatives passed on a lovely 24-hour bug - aka violent stomach flu - to me. And because I was determined to still run around and reminisce (and because I'm Scared Of Boredom and didn't want to stay inside all day), I still went touring around with my dad.
And every 20 minutes or so- we'd have to pull over.
And my dad is awesome and also didn't want to be bored inside all day so he stuck with me anyway. And I always felt fine right after I got sick, but then it'd always come back, sometimes without real warning.
So on my list of people I wanted to visit, was my old Piano Teacher. We get all the way to her house and I'm thinking "oh great, I'm starting to feel sick and will have to be like 'Hi! Remember me? Can I use your restroom?!'"
But it's even worse.
No one answers the door. And now I really do feel sick -
and I lose it in bushes in her front yard.
I JUMP back in my dad's truck and I'm like "just go! just go!" and we SCURRY away, hoping no one HAD been home and saw that.
I can still picture how completely insane that would've looked:
"Jay", my piano teacher's son (who was cute and my age): "Mom? Do you remember Dana from like 6 years ago? Used to take lessons here for 8 years but moved to the other side of the country? I'm pretty sure she just drive-by-vomited in our front yard! I wonder how long she's been doing that?"