Where do I start?

Ah well...the beginning, I suppose.

It all began with the day of my birth on a chilly day in March 1969...

Wait. That's going too far back.

The thanksgiving trip started with me feeling like shit and with errands to do. It had it's ups and downs. In spite of the fact that hubby's family are almost fanatically religious (my sister-in-law especially), and certain other complications, we had a great trip. Dinner went well and everyone was relaxed so that was nice. It's so weird to go to a family gathering and not be surrounded by alcoholics who start fights. But then this wasn't my dad's side of the family, either.

The only real problem with hubby's family is that his brother's children are absolute and total spoiled fucking maniacal little brats. They scream at the slightest provocation and can go for hours. Literally. One of them got started just a few minutes after we got there because Trent had picked up one of his toys. The aforementioned brat hadn't been playing with it, he only seemed to take an interest in it when Trent had it. I took it from Trent and gave it back to him twice, only to have said brat chuck it right back at me. Twice. Screaming.

Oy vey.

The next day this same kid got into a screaming fit because his dad called and he didn't get to speak to him, and this was after refusing to get on the phone with his dad in the first place. When Larry and I left about twenty minutes later to do some shopping the kid was starting to turn funny colors. I figured he'd eventually pass out and my mother-in-law would get some peace. He did, but not until later. While we were out I had Larry take me to the hotel because I was feeling really bad. I was running a fever and needed to lie down. When he returned four hours later he told me that this same little monster had spent most of the afternoon in a scream fest and that he had taken our kids and fled to get away from it. Apparently the boy was tweaked because he had woke up without his brother in the room, called his brother to come be with him, then freaked because his brother would rather watch Spiderman than be in the same room with him. I understand that completely.

The older one was bratty in his own way but nowhere near as bad as the three year old. My mother-in-law is always talking about how cute and sweet those two boys are but damned if I could see it.

There were some light moments, however, that kept things interesting and made my whole trip.

On Friday we went to Sonic to get some burgers (and hot dogs because I was craving one), and Larry entertained the staff via speaker with his satire of the Marty Robbins song El Paso.

Out in the west Texas town of El Paso
I got a bad bowl of chili one night
It made me real sick gave me mucho bad gas-o
I grabbed the toilet and held on real tight,
All through the day and into the night
I blew flaming chunks from my AAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAasss
I said holy jesus what is this disease-us
I fear it will kill me before it shall pass,
And my ass is in really bad shape
flaming chunks from my sphincter
flaming hot bile
dripping out of my nose,
I called out oh someone please help me
but no one could and that's just how it goes...

Thunderous applause erupted from the speaker and the cook, who I could only see from his tattooed forearms down, came out to shake Larry's hand and gave him a discount on our order. The waitress was still giggling when she skated out to give us our food.

A little while later I was down sick again. Not because of the food though. There is a painful irony here though, because just hours after entertaining a kitchen full of staff at a fast food restaurant with a song about bad chili and diarrhea, he reacted to the chili on the hot dogs the exact same way. Hot coals out of his ass and everything. All night long.

The next morning he took me to a walk-in clinic in downtown Sumter, where I nearly passed out in the waiting room. I felt bad enough, but I was sufficently conscious to notice the difference between waiting rooms here and in the south. In Jefferson and Brunswick, both offices either have complete quiet, Disney films playing or the radio set (softly), to our local pop station. This is what was blasting at nearly top volume from the speakers in the waiting room of the doctor's office in Sumter, South Carolina:

"If ya wanna play in Texas

ya gotta have a fiddle in the band

that lead guitar is hot but not for a Louisiana man..."

Fuck.

Didn't I feel bad enough?

When I saw my doctor a week and a half ago he went down the list of my recent appointments. One at the end of August (I thought it was September, but whatever), One three weeks ago and the one a little over a week ago. In all of that time I was told what I have is a virus, a vitamin deficiency and I just needed to ride it out. The only reason I was given the antibiotic syrup on my last visit was because the doctor said it would be "soothing". The doctor in Sumter took one look in my throat and made an ouch noise. He checked me for strep (my third such test recently), and when it came back negative, told me that the reason I seem to be getting better and then getting sick again is because I have a nasty throat infection. He said that due to the advanced stage of the infection that it has obviously been present for awhile and because it went untreated has spread to both my ears and my sinuses. So like, my whole head is infected.

You'd think that in the last three months my doctors at home could have picked up on that.

Anyway, this wonderful doctor (I think he's from India because he has the grooviest accent), wrote me out a prescription for amoxicillin and claritin (to help my sinuses and ears drain). I've been on the meds since yesterday and am already feeling better. Today I'm taking John out to see Eight Crazy Nights and do some shopping. Xmas usually creeps upon us pretty slowly but this year that isn't the case. I just realized this morning that we only have 24 more days and I've only put the slightest dent in my shopping. John's is finished and I have some small gifts for Trent and Larry but that's about it.

That reminds me. I got the nicest surprise when I checked my email last night. I won the ebay auction for a Cabbage Patch Kids Crib Snuggler. Cabbage Patch doesn't make then any more and I've wanted one for Zoe since we looked at the sonogram in my sixth month of pregnancy and discovered we were having a girl. They're very sweet - baby powder scented, cuddly soft and they have little chimes inside.

She is so beautiful!! This one is new, her box is unopened and she is special just for Zoe. I was so happy to get it! I figured that someone else would outbid me because they're so hard to find but I got really lucky.

:: doing my happy dance ::

So that's pretty much it. In spite of the nephews and all of the other little problems that popped up we really did have a nice holiday. My BIL cooked the turkey, my MIL cooked everything else and it was delicious! Larry and I both gained about five pounds each unfortunately, but after the holidays we're going to try the new diet plan my BIL and SIL use. It looks like it works really well - he's lost 25 pounds on it and she's lost 30 since June or July. Not bad. It has something in it that they both swear makes then not want sweet stuff and my MIL has begin taking the supplement the plan offers for diabetics that she says likes too. Anything that curbs my love of sweets is a good thing. We want to wait until after the holidays though. No point in sabotaging ourselves before we can even get started.

We also got some boiled peanuts (yum!), some gaggingly hot southern style ginger ale (yuck!), and some southern barbeque. And pictures. We got lots of pictures, one of which was a sign advertizing souse, bacon and (I shit you not), butt meat. Souse is a hideous combination of the parts that end up being left over after the edible parts of the pig are used. The parts are cut up into slices or chunks, pickled in brine then suspended in a gelatin, which is later sliced and served as luncheon meat.

Basically, it's waste in a jello base, and you eat it in sandwiches.

Notice I say you eat it.

Damned if I ever will.

I also learned on this trip that bacon is sliced meat and fat from a pig's belly. When they talk about pork belly futures on Wall Street, that's what they're referring to. Apparently pork bellies are a very valuable commodity.

I'm so glad I gave up pork three years ago.

The thought of eating it, especially now, makes my tummy do uncomfortable little flip-flops.