It's in my Lungs

I've been cocky about not being sick this fall and winter. Because of that, karma decided to give it to me long and hard without any notice. Friday night before my noon flight to Dallas, I went out with my friends, no biggie.  I had a few too many cocktails. The morning after, I was throwing up wildly. Still, I packed and managed the ride to the airport. I should have taken it as a sign when I was searching for a place to throw up in the airport, that I might want to sit out this flight. But, no, I'm a trooper. I got on the flight to hell. During the flight, I preceded to throw up every 10 min. It was awful, I felt like I was going to faint. The flight attendants said that EMT would be waiting for me. Great, I thought, sarcastically. I made it out of the plane only to discover I couldn't really walk. After some persuasion (Ambulance rides are so effing expensive) it was decided that I would be taken to the nearest hospital. Embarrassingly I left the airport on a stretcher with my sunglasses on. I pretended to be dying so it looked worse. Several hours later and tons of fluid later, I felt somewhat better.

Interestingly, the cough that had been dormant decided to transform into a full blown cold with a 101.2 temp. I powered through though, desperate not to miss Mother Gaga. It was completely worth it. She's an amazing performer who doesn't hold back. There was about 5 set changes and she performed all her songs. Including Born this Way. I decided not to hold back either, and dressed to impress. The rest of the concert goers approved of my look because every 5 min, someone asked to take their picture with me. It was lovely and something I could get used to. 

My cousin and I. She's the one who did my hair.

So, now I'm back in Florida, trying to get rid of this cold from hell. It's in my lungs now, and my asthma makes it worse. Hopefully, by the end of this weekend, I'll be better though. And, of course, Hot People will be on Sunday.