Memory Monday 9.26.11 (Gross-Out Edition)

Happy Monday! As you can tell by the title and this little green guy, today's memory is kind of... gross. But, it's one of the craziest experiences of my life so I thought I would document it and share. 

So, this memory came to mind because I watched Bridesmaids again this weekend. Okay, fine. I watched Bridesmaids twice this weekend. And for anyone who hasn't seen it (rent/buy it immediately because it is hilarious) the craziest scene in the movie includes food poisoning. A lot of food poisoning. For those of you who have seen it, chill out. I am not going to be as disgusting as that scene here on Happy Peeples. So, exhale and read on....

So, a few weeks after my high school graduation in 2004 I went with my sister, parents, grandmother and some of my grandmother's friends on an amazing trip to Italy. We spent a month traveling to different areas of the country and to this day it is one of the most fun, educational and life changing experiences I have ever had. However, it got off to a rather bumpy start. 

My mom, Susan and I set off from America a day early and flew through Paris before starting our Italian adventure in Venice. We were in Paris for exactly 24 hours so we trekked around that city like mad women. We saw the Eiffel Tower, drove by the Arc de Triomphe, basically ran through the Louvre and then ate dinner at a cute little Parisian restaurant. I decided to start my trip out right and ordered scallops. Well, that was the last time I have ever ordered scallops. 

The next morning we woke up and realized that jet lag had kicked our butts and we were WAY late leaving for the airport. We hauled those butts to the airport and checked in just in time. One problem - I did not feel well. And this was not jet lag. I ran to the bathroom while mom was checking our bags and got sick. (Okay, I would like you all to know that "got sick" means that I threw up - I don't want to repeat threw up throughout my blog but I would like everyone to know that this was a sick "north" situation and not a sick "south" situation. There, I got that out of the way and will use polite language from here on out.) So, I got sick and had my rally moment so I thought everything would be okay. I came out of the bathroom to see my mom standing near the security line looking not pleased with her hands on her hips. She seriously looked like she was going to kill me. For now I thought it best just to get in line and explain later. 

So... we get through security, find our gate and immediately get in line to board. We were that close to missing our flight. It was just about this time that the rally started to wear off. I told my mom why I had disappeared to the bathroom. She looked at me wide-eyed and said, "Okay, I am sorry that you are sick but you HAVE to get on this plane. If we miss this flight we will miss our train in Rome and those tickets were NOT. CHEAP." So, I try to put my, "I feel fine" face on and get my ticket and passport ready. Yep, rally was officially over. I then proceeded to get sick several times while giving the steward my ticket, making it down the jetway, and then getting on the airplane. "Wait, how did you get sick and make it all that way?" you may be asking... because I swallowed it. Yep. If anyone has EVER wondered if I know the value of a dollar I would like to direct you to this piece of evidence. I. Was. Getting. On. That. Plane. 

Now, for comedic value I would like you to know that we were flying Alitalia. And, if you've never seen or been inside of an Alitalia plane this is what it looks like:

GREEN. EVERYWHERE.

So, I finally make it onto the airplane and every old person in Paris is on that thing trying to get their bags into the overhead compartments. Oh, and the only bathroom is in the back of the plane. Sweet. Okay, so I finally get to the bathroom and then in my rally phase take my seat for takeoff. We're in the air. And I am sick. I proceed to get sick seven times on an hour and a half flight. At one point I go to sleep... on the floor. Suffice it to say, the flight attendants are nonplussed and a little freaked out. When we land in Rome it is announced over the PA system on the plane that there is a sick passenger that has to be removed from the airplane before we are able to go to the gate. That's right. I was removed from the plane on the tarmac and then taken to the airport infirmary in a Roman ambulance. 

Once we made it to the infirmary I was given fluids in both arms. Keep in mind that, while my mother loves me very much and was somewhat concerned for my health and well being, she is mostly VERY concerned that we are going to miss that train. So, I get fluids for about a half an hour and then they decide that it is, indeed, food poisoning and I am good to go. I will not be passing along SARS or bird flu or any other crazy communicable disease to the country of Italy. Thank goodness that was cleared up... with exactly zero actual tests.

Now it's time to head to the train! Oh, yeah... our bags. Mom realizes that our bags we checked are being held past security. And, in a post 9/11 world that is a problem. She talks to a guard (which is WAY scarier in Europe, btw. Yeah, they have machine guns. That's not intimidating...) and explains the situation. He agrees that she and Susan can go get our bags but none of their carry-ons or purses can go with them. So, I post up against a column in the entry way of Leonardo DaVinci International Airport with three bags, three purses and two holes in my arms from recent IV's. 

Just about the time mom and Susan disappear around the corner here comes a group of about 40 Korean tourists all with the exact same bright orange plastic suitcase. 

I am literally engulfed in a sea of orange suitcases because the group leader decides to set up shop at MY COLUMN. Thanks a lot, dude. Also, my memory of this scene is that they were Korean but I have no idea why. Anyway, it's hard for me to stand up because I'm trying to keep all three of our bags and purses on my person because they have laptops, passports, money, credit cards, id's, pretty much everything we need to survive in life and especially in a foreign country in them. Mom had put the fear of God in me not to move one inch while they retrieved the bags so when they came out and she didn't see me I think she almost passed out cold. But I hopped up, she spotted me and we headed toward the train station. 

After a super hot trolley ride, a train trip that included a much-needed nap, a train employee asking me to remove my feet from the partition, a super dirty look shot to said employee by yours truly, a water taxi ride to our hotel and an excited hug fest when we met up with the rest of our group I went to sleep in Venice - 24 hours after eating those stupid scallops. 

The rest of the trip was flawless and absolutely unbelievable. I will share photos and stories from it some time soon. But for today please remember not to eat scallops in Paris, try to hide your illness from flight attendants and, seriously, get to your train on time!

Happy Monday and PLEASE read my blog again even if this post was hard on your stomach. I promise, it was harder on mine.