The Way Things Are



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She was laughing her ass off at me.
2006-04-06, 11:38 a.m.

You people crack me right up. Hint: anybody who bothers to leave a comment is my favorite, except YOU, because YOU are my real favorite, whether you comment or not. And you know who you are. Or do you? Yes, I think you do. Or you think you do.

I lie. I do this all for the comments.

Please allow me to introduce myself to clear up some misinformation (LIES!) in the previous comments. My sister, EB, did not hold my hair back while I vomited on the cruise ship in January of 1999.

EVIDENCE THE FIRST: A cruise ship stateroom bathroom is too small for one person to occupy, much less two together.

EVIDENCE THE SECOND: Youíve seen my hair. There is nothing to hold back. My skull holds it back.

EVIDENCE THE THIRD: She was laughing her ass off at me.

To be entirely fair, she was sick, too, and as soon as I rolled out of the bathroom, she lurched in and vomited, too. And to be really entirely fair, I was laughing my ass off at her.

So there we were: pale, shaky, sweaty, hungover, seasick, vomiting and laughing. And I was wet and naked, but not in any kind of sexy way, because I had had to get the hell out of the shower right quick in order to vomit. Why didnít I just hork in the shower? Because there for a moment, I wasnít sure which way it was coming, if you get my drift, and I think you do.

Good times. If you donít have a sibling with whom you can experience the full range of a seasick hangover, I pity you.

We stumbled onto a sure-fire motion sickness prophylactic: a quarter of a Dramamine every hour washed down with a Coors Lite. You have to start this treatment early in the morning, and continue it all day and into the night for it to be effective.

We are the only two people who have ever gone on a week-long cruise, and LOST weight. Thatís how good of a time we had.

But anyway, when SFK admitted that she loaned me the down payment on my new house? Entirely true. Thanks, babe. I owe you.

****

Iím really not changing the subject. I have been inspired to dedicate this entry to vomit, so in case you missed this one when you were slavering over my archives, hereís a story about a dog, her sock, and some vomit.

Two or so years ago, I was in Chicago, attending a training seminar much like the one I attended earlier this week. I had gone to bed and was drifting off to sleep, when my phone rang.

When I answered, all I could hear was hysterical laughter, but this being my cell phone, I knew it was DW calling, so I waited to hear what was so funny. Hereís how that conversation went:

Him: HEEEEE! HEEEEE! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Me: What, babe?

Him: Oh my God! Penny! (this is Mrs. Beansí formal name) Penny---! Penny! Oh my God! Don was playing tug oí war with Penny with her sock toy (a few discarded socks that we had tied together in knots), and one of the socks came loose. Oh my God!

Me: Mmm hmmm?

Him: AND SHE ATE IT! SHE ATE THE SOCK! JUST GOBBLED IT UP LIKE IT WAS HER CHILD AND SHE WAS EATING IT TO PROTECT IT!

Me: HAARRRRR!!!

About three weeks laterÖ

Picture the scene. Don and DW and I are watching something on TV, and eating our little meals on trays in the living room. Beans is dancing around us, trying to play, trying to position her head close enough to one of our plates to be able to steal food, when

She vomits on the floor right at Donís feet. But this isnít just any old dog vomit, consisting of sticks, grass, and half-eaten pecans, no.

This vomit contains a sock.

But it doesnít last long, because just as we all unstunned enough to react, SHE SLURPED THE SOCK BACK UP AND SWALLOWED IT.

And thatís when we knew. Thatís when we knew that this was not the first time for this to happen, for this sock surely did not sit in her stomach for three weeks before being horked.

No. This sock had surely been horked and reslurped over and over again over the past three weeks.

Eventually, I found the sock in the backyard while doing poop-duty, and it was oddly intestine-shaped and bleached out. And thatís why we donít let Beans play with our old, discarded socks anymore. They donít make it all the way through the first time she eats them.

****

I just want yíall to know that I had a good time getting all trained up this week. I now know some very complex financial theories, and am able to perform complex financial functions on my financial calculator. If I had not left my picture phone at home today, I would take a picture of me performing a complex financial function on my calculator. Poor you! Iím sorry, but you will have to wait until tomorrow for such titillation.

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