It was super hot out on the flight-line today. I was dehydrated, my head was killing me, I was exhausted, and I was sucking at flying. So as soon as I got back to base, I hurried home so that I could complain about it all to Emily. But she had left already for her evening class.
I chugged as much water as I could and then started rifling through the fridge. My head was pounding, and usually when my head hurts bad enough I get nauseous; it's just the way I am. I figured, "if I eat a bunch of healthy fruit and drunk water my stomach will feel better, and I'll take a shower because that will make me feel better, and then everything will be OK".
So I ate a bunch of cantaloupe, some honeydew, plenty of grapes, and washed it down with some pineapple juice because that's tastier than water. Took a shower, sat down at the computer to go into a mental dead-zone, and then ran to the bathroom and threw up a ton of fruit.
It actually smelled really nice, and I felt pretty bad about wasting all that tasty stuff. Ideally after vomiting, I would whine to my wife and ask her to do things for me. But she's not home, so I just eat aspirin and sit on the couch alone. Blogging the pain away.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Typical Friday in Enterprise
Went to some bars with a few buddies from flight school a few Fridays ago.
The first bar was awful. There aren't a ton of options down here in Enterprise, Alabama, and we wanted to hear some live music. The best way to describe the band is that they did an awesome cover of "Scotty Doesn't Know". Like everything else here, drink was super cheap. I would put average age in the at 40, and average hotness of the babes at about a 3.
My man John is trying to make a move at the one remotely decent looking girl, (about 35 years old) in the place, and I cover his flank by conversing with her ogre-like redheaded friend. It sucked, but if you thought about how much it sucked and drank, it was awesome.
So we definitely leave, and we are wasted. Walking down the street to another bar, by the side of a typical New South bypass of fast food and tire shops. We are all too drunk to be able to go into the bar, I carry John a block, he keeps sitting on the ground or grabbing my butt, I push out a few voms behind some bushes. Probably about a 3 mile walk. At one point I fell over in the middle of the street.
My other friend Matt tucks me in on the couch, but I can't sleep so I watch some music videos on BET and drink some more Coors. Then I don't feel good at all. Haven't eaten much though, so when its time to execute my moves, I know that things are going to be intense.
From about 0600 to 0930 I was forcing out bile, sweating profusely, and then getting really cold. Matt came down around then, I got dressed, wretched the last slob of green glop out, and he drove me back on post. Spent the rest of the day completely not doing anything.
The first bar was awful. There aren't a ton of options down here in Enterprise, Alabama, and we wanted to hear some live music. The best way to describe the band is that they did an awesome cover of "Scotty Doesn't Know". Like everything else here, drink was super cheap. I would put average age in the at 40, and average hotness of the babes at about a 3.
My man John is trying to make a move at the one remotely decent looking girl, (about 35 years old) in the place, and I cover his flank by conversing with her ogre-like redheaded friend. It sucked, but if you thought about how much it sucked and drank, it was awesome.
So we definitely leave, and we are wasted. Walking down the street to another bar, by the side of a typical New South bypass of fast food and tire shops. We are all too drunk to be able to go into the bar, I carry John a block, he keeps sitting on the ground or grabbing my butt, I push out a few voms behind some bushes. Probably about a 3 mile walk. At one point I fell over in the middle of the street.
My other friend Matt tucks me in on the couch, but I can't sleep so I watch some music videos on BET and drink some more Coors. Then I don't feel good at all. Haven't eaten much though, so when its time to execute my moves, I know that things are going to be intense.
From about 0600 to 0930 I was forcing out bile, sweating profusely, and then getting really cold. Matt came down around then, I got dressed, wretched the last slob of green glop out, and he drove me back on post. Spent the rest of the day completely not doing anything.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Wedding night jitters?
Unlike the last wedding I was a part of, I very happily did not vomit the morning of my own wedding. The night, however, will be of more interest to you, dear readers.
The day was literally the best day of my life, great ceremony, awesome celebration. The reception was in the afternoon, so when it ended there was time for a nap and then a big party evening. The younger folks hit the bars of Alexandria, which is where our tale begins.
My wife and I roll up fashionably late to the bar where the party has congregated. The joint is hopping, the band is jamming, our friends are yelling and the drinks are flying. As the groom, a lot of them were flying to me. First things first my God-brother John orders a round of whiskey shots. I'm into it, but not naive.
We throw em back, slam em down, probably high-five or something, and that's that. Or is it? The tell-tale signs appear. The burp. The gag. The hold-it-in-the-throat belch. There's no way I could make it through the crowd on the dance-floor to the bathroom in time. An vomateur would probably panic and spray all over the masses of people.
But I am like a puke MacGyver; this is too easy. Grab an empty pint glass. Bend over like just another guy tying his shoe at the bar. The drink slams right up into the glass, fills up to just below the top. Put the glass on the floor and push it as far out of the way as possible. Consider yourself primed to party.
Only my wife noticed, and she loved it. More shots, please!
The day was literally the best day of my life, great ceremony, awesome celebration. The reception was in the afternoon, so when it ended there was time for a nap and then a big party evening. The younger folks hit the bars of Alexandria, which is where our tale begins.
My wife and I roll up fashionably late to the bar where the party has congregated. The joint is hopping, the band is jamming, our friends are yelling and the drinks are flying. As the groom, a lot of them were flying to me. First things first my God-brother John orders a round of whiskey shots. I'm into it, but not naive.
We throw em back, slam em down, probably high-five or something, and that's that. Or is it? The tell-tale signs appear. The burp. The gag. The hold-it-in-the-throat belch. There's no way I could make it through the crowd on the dance-floor to the bathroom in time. An vomateur would probably panic and spray all over the masses of people.
But I am like a puke MacGyver; this is too easy. Grab an empty pint glass. Bend over like just another guy tying his shoe at the bar. The drink slams right up into the glass, fills up to just below the top. Put the glass on the floor and push it as far out of the way as possible. Consider yourself primed to party.
Only my wife noticed, and she loved it. More shots, please!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Two of a kind.
Relatively recently, my fiancee was working at a conference at a hotel in the Woodley Park part of town. I was going to meet her after work, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity to hit up the awesome national zoo.
I checked out the new Asia Trail, disappointing. No animals anywhere. It was still kind of cold out and gray, so I suppose they were all in winter storage or something. Checked out the small mammals house, but more out of obligation than interest. I was lucky enough to catch the 3-toed sloth rocking out, eating stuff and moving around, which was incredible. Truly a hypnotic beast.
So I headed on into the the great ape building. The first thing to hit you in there is always the smell. I was digging the gorillas, not a lot of action, but it is awesome how big they are.
Hoping for a little more excitement, I walked across the hall to the orangutans. Good call, Tom. A jolly looking female was poking at some pieces of hay in the corner. She looked up when I approached, met my eyes, threw her hands up to the sky and lumbered over. With only the thick, clear, plastic between us, it felt like I was visiting a friend in prison.
A friend who promptly threw up at me. Upon reaching me, she spouted a huge glob of half-digested goop onto the see-through wall and ground. I was really proud, and felt honored to have been called upon to witness this personal moment so intimately. I have a picture of her right after she puked on my cellphone, but I can't figure out how to put it onto the computer.
I checked out the new Asia Trail, disappointing. No animals anywhere. It was still kind of cold out and gray, so I suppose they were all in winter storage or something. Checked out the small mammals house, but more out of obligation than interest. I was lucky enough to catch the 3-toed sloth rocking out, eating stuff and moving around, which was incredible. Truly a hypnotic beast.
So I headed on into the the great ape building. The first thing to hit you in there is always the smell. I was digging the gorillas, not a lot of action, but it is awesome how big they are.
Hoping for a little more excitement, I walked across the hall to the orangutans. Good call, Tom. A jolly looking female was poking at some pieces of hay in the corner. She looked up when I approached, met my eyes, threw her hands up to the sky and lumbered over. With only the thick, clear, plastic between us, it felt like I was visiting a friend in prison.
A friend who promptly threw up at me. Upon reaching me, she spouted a huge glob of half-digested goop onto the see-through wall and ground. I was really proud, and felt honored to have been called upon to witness this personal moment so intimately. I have a picture of her right after she puked on my cellphone, but I can't figure out how to put it onto the computer.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Arugula Bomb
Yesterday was a sweet party to celebrate my engagement, but I didn't puke. Sorry.
However, the night before I did. My cousin Walter was back, and he brought my brother Charles with him. When I got back from my stupid job at around 11:00, (yes, on a Friday night) I jumped onto the drinking wagon that they had set rolling with help from my roommate Alden. We gunned some, chugged some, played a card-guessing drinking game with a random-card generator from the internet, and hung out.
When my cousin and I lay down to sleep, I realized that I was wasted. I hadn't eaten, and my head was spinning. Classic drunk. Obviously, the only way to fix this was to eat. I hit the fridge; its either more beer of some of my cousin-roommate George's arugula. I ate a tasty bowl greens, laid down in bed for about one second, and then went to the bathroom and sprayed out a sloppy green mush somewhere near the toilet. "I'll clean it up tomorrow".
I definitely did not clean it up before going to work the next morning and when I got back home the problem had magically fixed itself! Thanks by the way cuz, sorry.
However, the night before I did. My cousin Walter was back, and he brought my brother Charles with him. When I got back from my stupid job at around 11:00, (yes, on a Friday night) I jumped onto the drinking wagon that they had set rolling with help from my roommate Alden. We gunned some, chugged some, played a card-guessing drinking game with a random-card generator from the internet, and hung out.
When my cousin and I lay down to sleep, I realized that I was wasted. I hadn't eaten, and my head was spinning. Classic drunk. Obviously, the only way to fix this was to eat. I hit the fridge; its either more beer of some of my cousin-roommate George's arugula. I ate a tasty bowl greens, laid down in bed for about one second, and then went to the bathroom and sprayed out a sloppy green mush somewhere near the toilet. "I'll clean it up tomorrow".
I definitely did not clean it up before going to work the next morning and when I got back home the problem had magically fixed itself! Thanks by the way cuz, sorry.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Preemptive Anti-Hangover Vom
My cousin Walter just rolled in off the train from California, and to get ready I bought a 24 of Bud and a 6-pack of Newcastle Ale. We made a playlist from the internet, cracked open the ales, worked into the buds, and gamed heavily.
We were joined by others and went out for pitchers at the Tombs. Later in the night I started doing an awesome joke where I would hold ketchup next to my mouth, fake-vomit and spray ketchup out on the table. It also worked with ripping open sugar packets.
We got home and I was feeling awesome, but I had to get up at 0700 today for my stupid job. I took my usual drunken hot shower, and decided "the more alcohol I get out of my system now, the less of a hangover I'll have tomorrow". And I was right.
So no big deal. Standing in place pulling the trigger, slamming out vomit all over the floor of the shower for a cool minute. Clean it off, brush the teeth, go to sleep. Woke up feeling great.
We were joined by others and went out for pitchers at the Tombs. Later in the night I started doing an awesome joke where I would hold ketchup next to my mouth, fake-vomit and spray ketchup out on the table. It also worked with ripping open sugar packets.
We got home and I was feeling awesome, but I had to get up at 0700 today for my stupid job. I took my usual drunken hot shower, and decided "the more alcohol I get out of my system now, the less of a hangover I'll have tomorrow". And I was right.
So no big deal. Standing in place pulling the trigger, slamming out vomit all over the floor of the shower for a cool minute. Clean it off, brush the teeth, go to sleep. Woke up feeling great.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
I join the mile-high club.
No not that mile-high club, you sex-addled idiot. The real mile-high club.
My girlfriend lived in Santa Fe for a while. I flew out a couple of time to see her. The night before one of my flights my good friend Adam happened to visit me in Arlington, where i was living with my brother. We slammed scotch, went out, had some beers, and just partied till it was time to go. My brother drove me to BWI, and we stopped at our favorite breakfast-sandwich fast-food location, Royal Farms.
I had to fly into Dallas for a connecting flight, and I slept most of the way. Also, I was wearing a suit and cowboy boots, so I looked cool and not out of place here. When I awoke upon landing, however, I had gone from a glazed-over still-drunk-from-the-night before feel to a full hangover.
I walked around the huge circle that is Dallas/Ft. Worth International, got a smoothie, and just tried to chill out. By the time we boarded, I was relatively confident that I could keep it down. I took my seat, and took a nap.
I awoke in a cold sweat halfway through the flight. It was time. Sitting in the window seat, I began making my way quickly but politely to the aisle. I had to vomit, but I had some self-control and dignity left. But as I brushed in front of the last person, a stewardess bid me return to my seat. As a freak mistake of timing, they were now wheeling out the beverages. I sat dejectedly back down and focused on keeping a positive attitude.
My body's patience was wearing thin as I finally shot up to squeeze past the cart. Unfortunately, a visibly lesbian woman had an apparently equally pressing need for the toilet, and brushed in front of me from her seat, locking shut the only bathroom. I was sweating all over, turning red in the face, and about to relinquish control of the situation to destiny.
At literally the final moment she emerged, and I blasted past her, tucking my tie into my shirt and slamming the notch over to 'occupied'. As the vent started venting, I unleashed a torrent of vomit into the metal basin. Confident that I could not be heard over the sounds of the flight, I emptied my stomach and rinsed off my face. The customary post-vomit self-check revealed that I had pulled it off yet again: a secret vomit only feet away from strangers, leaving not a single trace of evidence. On to Santa Fe!
My girlfriend lived in Santa Fe for a while. I flew out a couple of time to see her. The night before one of my flights my good friend Adam happened to visit me in Arlington, where i was living with my brother. We slammed scotch, went out, had some beers, and just partied till it was time to go. My brother drove me to BWI, and we stopped at our favorite breakfast-sandwich fast-food location, Royal Farms.
I had to fly into Dallas for a connecting flight, and I slept most of the way. Also, I was wearing a suit and cowboy boots, so I looked cool and not out of place here. When I awoke upon landing, however, I had gone from a glazed-over still-drunk-from-the-night before feel to a full hangover.
I walked around the huge circle that is Dallas/Ft. Worth International, got a smoothie, and just tried to chill out. By the time we boarded, I was relatively confident that I could keep it down. I took my seat, and took a nap.
I awoke in a cold sweat halfway through the flight. It was time. Sitting in the window seat, I began making my way quickly but politely to the aisle. I had to vomit, but I had some self-control and dignity left. But as I brushed in front of the last person, a stewardess bid me return to my seat. As a freak mistake of timing, they were now wheeling out the beverages. I sat dejectedly back down and focused on keeping a positive attitude.
My body's patience was wearing thin as I finally shot up to squeeze past the cart. Unfortunately, a visibly lesbian woman had an apparently equally pressing need for the toilet, and brushed in front of me from her seat, locking shut the only bathroom. I was sweating all over, turning red in the face, and about to relinquish control of the situation to destiny.
At literally the final moment she emerged, and I blasted past her, tucking my tie into my shirt and slamming the notch over to 'occupied'. As the vent started venting, I unleashed a torrent of vomit into the metal basin. Confident that I could not be heard over the sounds of the flight, I emptied my stomach and rinsed off my face. The customary post-vomit self-check revealed that I had pulled it off yet again: a secret vomit only feet away from strangers, leaving not a single trace of evidence. On to Santa Fe!
Monday, January 4, 2010
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Day of my friend's wedding.
Earlier this week a good buddy of mine got married. I was one of his groomsmen. We're in the Army, so we both wore our dress blue uniforms, lookin' real good.
So the night before the wedding, me, the groom, the best man and the two other groomsmen all kicked it at the bride's grandpa's place in the country. Drank a little whiskey, had a little conversation. I didn't have much because I had to drive back. I had had a few beers before too.
That night my girlfriend and I were crashing at my friend Ian's house because his baby and his baby-mama were gone for the week. My buddy Charlie was there too, with his brother, and two other guys. So we all had a bunch of beer, and then went to sleep.
Woke up, not feeling too hot. Not awful, but I was not a hundred percent. Went to the toilet to clear out a few things, pulled the trigger a little, but definitely not the main event. Got dressed, joking with my buddies, took a little shower, hoping that that was that. Left a little early so that I could walk around and catch some air.
I walk around Annapolis and things are starting to look up. The winter chill is having a sobering effect, I feel ready for this, and start to head back to the church.
Then it hits. A little sweat, suddenly I feel way hot and my brain is like; "You are going to vom." I'm on a pretty main street, there's cars and pedestrians, this is no place to be vomiting in my Army uniform. I know I have maximum thirty seconds. A little quick-thinking: duck down onto a less prominent street. Its about to go down. I take a knee, take my hat off, and basically look like I'm tying my shoe.
Except I am puking my stomach out right into some snow. After one round, I get up, walk ten feet, then drop again and let it all out. Down low, the cars driving by can't even see me. Hell yeah. I let myself cool off, straighten up, head to the church and rock the wedding. We partied all day.
So the night before the wedding, me, the groom, the best man and the two other groomsmen all kicked it at the bride's grandpa's place in the country. Drank a little whiskey, had a little conversation. I didn't have much because I had to drive back. I had had a few beers before too.
That night my girlfriend and I were crashing at my friend Ian's house because his baby and his baby-mama were gone for the week. My buddy Charlie was there too, with his brother, and two other guys. So we all had a bunch of beer, and then went to sleep.
Woke up, not feeling too hot. Not awful, but I was not a hundred percent. Went to the toilet to clear out a few things, pulled the trigger a little, but definitely not the main event. Got dressed, joking with my buddies, took a little shower, hoping that that was that. Left a little early so that I could walk around and catch some air.
I walk around Annapolis and things are starting to look up. The winter chill is having a sobering effect, I feel ready for this, and start to head back to the church.
Then it hits. A little sweat, suddenly I feel way hot and my brain is like; "You are going to vom." I'm on a pretty main street, there's cars and pedestrians, this is no place to be vomiting in my Army uniform. I know I have maximum thirty seconds. A little quick-thinking: duck down onto a less prominent street. Its about to go down. I take a knee, take my hat off, and basically look like I'm tying my shoe.
Except I am puking my stomach out right into some snow. After one round, I get up, walk ten feet, then drop again and let it all out. Down low, the cars driving by can't even see me. Hell yeah. I let myself cool off, straighten up, head to the church and rock the wedding. We partied all day.
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