If love is carrying someone's barf bag to the nearest airport trash receptacle, then Paul must adore me.
I had a lovely long visit home this past weekend, except for the final four hours. I was fine at Joe's wedding. Perfect at Katie's bridal shower. It wasn't until I was somewhere in the air between Columbus and Detroit that I started to feel queasy.
Without going into too many details, I was sick the entire plane ride from Detroit to New York. Luckily, Paul and I had the entire last row of the plane to ourselves. The flight attendant told us at the end of the trip that the pilot even delayed take-off for a bit to consult with air traffic control about whether I should get off the plane. Great.
Needless to say, I stayed home from work the next day. I was fine again and eating normally by the evening. More about the pleasant aspects of my trip (along with pictures!) later.