Puking on the Titanic

So I briefly mentioned this happening once in an old blog post, but I was thinking about how hilarious this story was, and since I can’t talk about my job, I’m running low on awkward stories, so I’m going to start telling you all about my awkward childhood.

This should be fun.

Back when Alex and I first got married, right before we honeymooned in Vegas, Alex found a Titanic Exhibit.  He knows that I love everything titanic, from the movie to stupid books about how it all went down.  I find this stuff fascinating, and so when he brought up the exhibit to me, I casually told him a little something that baffled him.

“We should go!  Maybe I won’t throw up on the real piece again!”

The “again” was the part that caused a large amount of confusion, to say the least.  Most people don’t make mention of puking at a historical exhibit, much less puking at a historical exhibit again.  To which he gave me a very strange look and told me to elaborate.

When I was about ten years old, it was around when the Titanic movie came out.  I watched it every day after school for over a year, and even now, I can recite the entire movie.  Word for word.  Because I love useless information.

When scholastic released those book catalogues to students and there was a titanic book, I would beg my mom to buy it.  So I have tons of childrens books that are infographics for the Titanic.  My grandma got me a Titanic piggy bank that you push a lever and the butt end of it rises up so the coin slides into the front of the ship.  I wanted my name to be Rose because I wanted to find my own personal Jack.

I’m telling you, I was obsessed.

This shit is interesting

This shit is interesting

And even now, I still reread all of those books because I just find it so interesting.

My father, who felt left out with my Titanic obsession, had a friend who was helping run the Titanic Exhibit in St Paul.  Since it was educational, and his friend got him free tickets, he surprised me on his weekend with us that we would be going to the big Titanic Exhibition.  I was ecstatic.  Except for one thing.

My stomach hurt really badly.

I hadn’t been feeling well for a couple of days, and this particular day my stomach really hurt.  I told my dad this, but he insisted that if I walked around, my stomach would feel better.  Since I really wanted to see the jewelry of Molly Brown and even see a real piece of the Titanic, I swallowed my pride and tried to ignore my stomach.

We went to the exhibit and it was insanely interesting.  We got to see old suitcases, jewelry, clothes, tons of stuff salvaged from the ship.  However, every ten minutes or so, I’d have to sit down to keep anything that was in my stomach down because as the day wore on, I felt sicker.

My dad tried to tell me that I was imagining things, and I told him that I really needed to throw up.  He just shrugged it off, as most parents do.  Not going to lie, if it had been me looking at my child, I probably would have thought the same thing.

Then, the big finale of the trip, there was this big pool thing that had the real piece of the Titanic.  It had to remain underwater because of the rust, but it still had the windows in it and the air smelled of something.  To be honest, it’s too far long ago that I would remember.  I think it was salt water.

The piece I nearly threw up on, except that it's been sealed so it won't rust away into nothing.

The piece I nearly threw up on, except that it’s been sealed so it won’t rust away into nothing.

My brother and dad were standing on the rails, looking down on the piece of the ship and my dad was telling my brother about the rust issue with the ship and why it had to stay underwater.

This is when I couldn’t hold the contents of my stomach any longer.  I start pulling on my dad’s shirt, telling him I’m going to puke, to which he shooed my hand away, telling me that he’s busy telling my brother some information.  I start to wail a little bit, to which he snaps and tells me to keep quiet because he was talking.

Then I puked.

Everywhere.

There was so much puke.

And it hurt so badly.  I fell down while I was vomiting because of how violent the vomiting was.

This got my dad’s attention.

I remember him yelling at me, asking me why I didn’t tell him I was going to puke or why I wasn’t feeling good.

I tried to remind him that I did, but he just kept freaking out because tact is not his specialty.  I don’t think any puke actually got on the real piece, but I can’t be too sure.  It didn’t make the newspapers, but that would have been a great story to share.

I called my mom and asked her about this and she just sighed.  Yes, she remembered, no it wasn’t a weird dream.

So when I was in Las Vegas and I saw the real piece, I yelled, “I’M NOT PUKING ON YOU TODAY!”

And it was fun.

So there you have it.  My Titanic Puking Story.

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I Need An Adult

 

I was telling my mom this story the other day and she got a little upset with me.  I think mostly because I’m 24, almost 25, and I still need an adult to figure shit out for me, and legally I’m an adult.  She even said so.  Her exact words were, “Leah, you’re 24 years old, you are an adult, you need to start acting like one.”

No mom, I don’t get this adult stuff.  It’s hard.  Make me mac and cheese?  Please?

Comfort food at it's finest

Comfort food at it’s finest

But the story I was telling my mom… I don’t know if she was laughing because it was actually funny, or if she was shaking her head, trying to figure out how someone who shares half of her DNA could be such an airhead.  I’m pretty sure it’s a mix of both.

I was at the BX the other day looking for a thermos.  For those of you who are nonmilitary, a BX is basically the Military version of Walmart, where you don’t have to pay sales tax and most of the stuff is ridiculously cheap and all made in china.  I shop there to get a lot of bare necessities because the sales tax in Louisiana is around 9%.

Anyways, I thought that this product would be with the coffee mugs.  Or at least the stainless steel travel mugs.  After about ten minutes of me wandering up and down the aisles, I was getting frustrated.  I was going to bring hot chocolate to work since it’s been getting in the 30s at night and with the wind and humidity, I was feeling miserable.

After searching and searching, I found a really, really old man lost as well.  I went up to him and asked him if he knew where they’d be.  He said it was probably in the camping section.

This didn’t occur to me.  I thanked him and headed over to the outdoor section and kept looking around.  I found travel mugs and tents and that, but I was getting really frustrated.

I saw a sales associate helping someone and actively avoiding me, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I stood with my fists clenched on my sides, and I yelled at the top of my lungs, “I NEED AN ADULT!”

The sales lady slowly turned her head to look at me, confused.  The way I was acting, I think she was trying to figure out whether or not I was some punk kid or an adult.  I certainly look like I’m in my 20s, but I’ve looked like I’m in my 20s since I was 14 years old.

She walked over and asked what I needed.  I told her I needed a thermos to keep my hot chocolate warm at work.

She showed me where they were, I thanked her, and paid at the register.  Then I ran into the Troll and his girlfriend to discuss thanksgiving, where they will be joining us.  Because Alex and I never half ass food.

 

When has there been an instance where you needed an adult?  Do you have times where you just want your mom to cook you comfort food?  Are there times where you just want to curl up and eat ice cream?