I have to start out this blog by assuring everyone that I am not involved in hanky-panky. The reason that I must begin this way will probably become apparent by the end--especially to those of you who are accustomed to the BYU honor code rules. So just keep that in mind as you read on...Many of you many not be aware of the fact that I went to Girls' Camp this year. Well, this blog has nothing to do with that, but I wanted to make sure that everyone is aware of how truly self-sacrificing I am. And now that I have officially nullified any potential blessings, my story for today begins the day I got back from camp. My roommates and I decided that we needed to have a beach day before the end of the summer, so we planned to go to Virginia Beach the Saturday after I got back from camp, and then stay and go to church there on Sunday in the ward Justin attended in high school.
So Saturday morning we (me, my roommates Rozlynn and Katie, Katie's boyfriend Dave, Justin and our other friend Brian) loaded into the cars and drove down to Virginia Beach. I kind of started feeling strangely nauseous on the way down, but after eating some delicious sour cream and cheddar chips, I felt much better. We had a great time at the beach. The water was perfect (those of you used to Newport Beach should try the Atlantic ocean for a blessed relief!). I continued to feel a little sick all day, but it would come and go, so I wasn't too worried.
After a delicious meal at Sonic (I only ate about three bites of because my stomach issues had begun to get a little worse, but I did have two large strawberry limeades--yummy!) we rented some sweet two person tricycles and rode up and down the beach. At this point, I decided that my nausea warranted more extreme measures. As we traveled up the beach in our tricycles, everyone else stopped to get Blizzards at Dairy Queen, and I went across the street and bought some Pepto Max at the Pharmacy. It's hard to say who enjoyed their treat more...
The Pepto did the trick, and I started to feel much better. By this time, it was around 9 pm, and everyone else decided just to drive back home instead of staying the night. However, I did not really feel like driving all night to get home, so Justin and I decided to stick to the orignial plan: we'd find somewhere to sleep (we were thinking sleeping bags at the stake center) and go to his old ward for church the next day, so we said goodbye to the rest of the party.
Since it was still early, we decided to drive around and see if we could find Justin's old house. Unfortunately, a lot has changed in Virginia Beach in the past 9 years since he lived there, and we couldn't find it. Meanwhile, the momentary relief that the Pepto had given me was starting to wear away. On top of the nausea, I was also insanely tired from not sleeping well all week at camp. In my pitiful state, I told Justin that maybe we should find a hotel rather than camping in some random location, so we decided to just drive up the freeway until we saw one of those blue signs for lodging. It turned out that we had to drive for about 40 minutes before we finally found somewhere with a bunch of hotels--and we figured that at least one of them would be in our price range. During this lengthy drive, I finally gave up fighting the tiredness and nausea and went to sleep.
I woke up to Justin telling me he'd gotten us a room at a great rate (the military discount is fantastic! And another reminder that I am not the kind of girl to be involved in hanky-panky). So I got out of the car, and Justin started gathering our stuff out of the trunk. He handed me his suit to hold while he grabbed some other things. At this point, though I hadn't thought anything would come of my nausea, I started to believe that there was a very good chance that something was about to come of it, so I handed Justin back his suit and said, "I think I'm going to throw up really soon. Like now." But just then, the feeling passed, so I took back his suit and said, "Never mind." And then, just as quickly as it passed, it came again--this time I knew what was coming. So I again handed Justin back his suit, and being in a hotel parking lot, decided that the best place to puke would be on the grassy median between rows of parking. So I got down on my hands and knees and wretched. It was really a magical moment. When I finished, Justin's comment was, "Well, I'll always remember that the first night I spent alone with you in a hotel started with you on all fours throwing up in the parking lot." It was pretty funny. And fortunately, that one vomit did the trick, and I didn't feel even the slightest bit sick after that.But, as if me throwing up in the parking lot wasn't humorous enough (or enough to ensure that nothing unseemly would transpire with the two of us alone in a hotel room), when we got up to the room, Justin started rolling around on his bed scratching his back and stomache and claiming that his skin was trying to kill him (he was suffering from a nasty case of poison ivy already). I took a look from where I was, and it looked like he had a nasty sunburn all over his chest and back. On closer look, however, it turned out that his entire upper body was covered in hives. We laughed pretty hard. There we were, alone in a hotel room without the slightest temptation. He had just watched me throw up strawberry limeade, and he was covered in hives. Pretty funny.
I'm sure you all have some interesting memories that this story has evoked. Please share!
