Kim's Sick

What was I saying about the giant 'L' on my forehead? I drew the short straw this time. Must have eaten something a little off while trompsing around Time's Square in New York. About 2 hours into the flight I started ejecting things from all orifices. Four hours in I was praying for the terrorists to take it down and by the time I deplaned in Delhi it was in a wheelchair. Nothing quite like being sick at 35,000 feet. And, I was in the center seat of the middle row to boot. I finally curled up next to the loo and stayed their till they let me into first class. I'll stoop to just about anything to get one of those hot wipes. I really can't find anything good to say about the stewardesses on Continental. There was one decent one. She took sympathy on me because she gets airsick. Can you believe that?

The first couple of days are a blur. The two hour bus ride to our accomodations (I won't call it a hotel because that would be misleading you) was hell. By the time we got there I was throwing up stuff left from Christmas. I was really down to the bottom of the barrell. After returning to bed from the bathroom for the 106th time that niteI heard Sean in his squeakiest voice saying 'India, she says. I want to go to India. Let's go to India.' It has become his mantra for the trip.