The Return

Sometimes a princess just has to set aside her pride cause some stories are too good to keep to yourself. This is one of those stories.

I am not a very good flyer. I've avoided rides at the fair for 25 years, even the Ferris Wheel makes me queasy. Airplanes go that much higher and are therefore, that much worse. So on the way to the Bahamas I popped a couple of Gravol and everything went fine. I landed feeling great. Being the smart cookie that I am, I naturally thought to do the same on the way home.

As the poolboy chauffered us back to the airport I popped a couple of the little pills. Feeling pretty proud of myself for remembering too.
Even though the plane from Nassau to Miami was small and pretty bumpy I managed not bad. But the ride from Miami to Minneapolis was terrible. Lots of turbulence and although the pilot apologized profusely, I felt worse and worse. I had a heck of a headache and my stomache was churning. I'm not very brave so rather than suffer I popped another pill.

By the time we landed in Minot. I was full out sick. I couldn't even eat and you know that never happens to me. I made it back to the hotel and crashed hard. However, a didn't get a lot of sleep. I kept having to hit the bathroom. We drove home the next day and I felt pretty good.

I started to unpack and in my make-up bag I found my bottle of Gravol. It occurred to me that this was not the bottle I opened the previous day. A little detective skills soon found the other pills in my purse. Yep, clearly labelled, too. Dulcolax.

Things I've learned:

Returning home is kinda shitty.
What happened in the Bahamas - stayed in Minot.
Carefully read all labels before taking any medication.

The Bahamas Vacation

Last week the Commoner and I hopped a plane (actually 3) to the Bahamas. It took considerable planning, 19 years to be exact, but we finally saved enough beer cans, pop bottles, and loose change to take a tropical vacation. And while living as a displaced princess has been difficult, it finally paid off. So 2 Gravol and a shot of vodka later we landed at the Nassau International Airport. And then it happened. Don't let anyone tell you that Bahamians are not as smart as us. They are, in fact, much smarter. Instantly upon arrival I was recognized for the princess that I am. The friendly natives greeted us off the plane by giving the Commoner a bag of peanuts and for me (drum roll, please) a tiara and silver wand. We were then whisked off in an unmarked vehicle to avoid paparazzi.

The Bahama Mama and the Pool Boy were disguised as natives and did not reveal their identity safely down the road from the airport. We celebrated by stopping at a local restaurunt and ate deep fried conch (pronounced konk). I fell in love with peas and rice, a native dish but really, really like the drink named after Darlene. Upon our safe arrival in their compound we discovered that we were indeed living in a palace. We were shown to our suite served a few more drinks and called it a night. The next day was a whole other adventure. A story for another day.