I Blew Chunks

Ok, on Saturday, I had a "rather unpleasant, unclean experience." And I know that most people would feel great embarrassment if this had happened to them. But I just keep thinking that it's somehow funny.

On Saturday morning, I left for a day trip to Salem, Massachusetts; yes, home of the infamous Salem Witch Trials. In between memories of The Scarlet Letter and The Crucible, I learned that John Lennon had made a point of visiting Gallows Hill, the site where 19 of the accused witches were hanged. And I had this great day, visiting The House of the Seven Gables, among other stuff.

However, just after lunch, I started to develop a headache, and it got worse and worse. I get these headaches that I call migraines because, among other things, they make me feel nauseated. Anyway, by the time we boarded the charter bus to return home, I was feeling pretty sick. And about 15 minutes into the 3 1/2 hour drive home, I threw up (yes, I blew chunks, yawned in technicolour, up-chucked, puked, barfed) on the bus. It was all over my clothes and the seat where I was sitting. And there wasn't all that much cleaning up I could do, aside from what can be done with dry paper towels. And so I had to ride home in my own vomit.

I know this is all really gross, and I realize that I'm forever branded as "The Professor who Puked on the Bus in Salem," but all I can think is that it's just really funny somehow.