Sunday, January 06, 2008

Home again, home again, jiggety jig

OK, so yesterday we flew from New Hampshire to Chicago. The flight was fairly uneventful, except for the part where the guy sitting next to me practically exploded giving vent to the world's biggest sneeze--the kind where you can just picture the tiny droplets spreading rapidly through the entire plane--in slow motion--starting with where I was sitting. 

To make matters worse,  the flight attendants had just served our beverages. And I was really, really thirsty. 

So I had to make a decision: skip the water, or drink it and maybe die, like Myrna Loy in The Rains Came. This was not an easy decision to make. The Rains Came is kind of a silly melodrama about a woman redeeming her misspent youth by helping out in a hospital during a cholera epidemic in India. Eventually she forgets about the general germiness of life in India during a cholera epidemic, lifts a glass of water to her lips, and drinks. I'm all "MYRNA! Don't drink that!" but she does anyway. And you just know she's going to die.

Admittedly, I don't think raising my children to say "please" and "thank you" exactly qualifies as a nursing-the-cholera-patients level of self-sacrifice. But the glass of water with the sneeze juice in it seemed just as deadly as Myrna's.

At this point it's probably a good idea for me to mention that I spent my Christmas vacation watching marathon amounts of television episodes on DVD. And that in the space of three days, I watched the entire first season of House, M.D. And that is why I knew for sure that that sneeze COULD HAVE BEEN DEADLY.

And yet I drank the water anyway. I know, ew. But I really was thirsty. And I'm still alive!

Of course, when I walked into my house with its Christmas decorations all over the place, suitcases needing to be unpacked, laundry to do, plants needing watering, the turtle needing fresh water ... by the way, have you noticed that "thirsty" is today's secret word?

I leave you with two thoughts: this house is going to kill me. And I think I'm going to go get a drink.


  1. I can't watch House, M.D. because all I do is stare at the TV and mutter "Bertie has a VERY sore throat...and is being kind of a prick about it."


  2. We'll all wait and see how you do. And if, in four or five days, you don't do well, I'll bring lozenges and hot tea.

  3. You drank the water. I'm staying tuned to find out if strange symptoms start arising--rashes, internal bleeding, diluted pupils, you know, all the typical things House looks for in a sneeze victim.

  4. That House Dude is sorta Hott and Repulsive at the same time.

  5. Fortunately, House is on a night that I work, therefore, I don't watch it. I ignore the fact that my library owns full seasons of it and 24. Bring on Sex and the City, which my library inexplicably DOES NOT OWN. Fortunately other libraries do.

    Since you've posted since this post, I'm guessing the sneeze didn't kill you (yet.) Keep us posted.




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xxx, Poppy.