Heading Down Under

I'm off to an Australian adventure. A nice long 22 hour? flight and I'll be on a new continent. I'm checking the continents off. North America, check. South America, check. Europe, check. Still to do: Asia and Africa. And Antarctica, of course. But do tell me, what does the Middle East count as? I don't feel that it really belongs to any of the three continents it's attached to.

Yesterday I was a bit worried because after stuffing myself to the gills with enchiladas, guacamole tacos, rice and beans and topping it off with a Cuervo Gold Margarita and a shot of Cabo Wabo Reposado I had a bit of an alarming incident. I was at a friend's house, standing in the hall talking when suddenly I had a troubling sensation in my throat. Luckily, the friends were heading down the hall finishing up a conversation and I was striking distance to the bathroom. I simply said "excuse me," opened the bathroom door and was just closing it behind me when, like something out of a Monty Python skit, I erupted. It sort of was like I opened my mouth and let pressure do the rest. I recall imagining a fireman's hose. The undigested Mexican fiesta made a graceful arc, landing in the toilet without a mess. I impressed myself a little. What control, what grace! I may have even given myself a congratulatory wink in the mirror. And although I hadn't been feeling sick or drunk before, afterwards I felt reborn and managed to jump right back into conversation with no one noticing I had left.

Today I am right as rain. So if you are still reading through this bravo. Sorry for spoiling your lunch. I hope you weren't eating Mexican food.

Ok, so getting on a flight in a couple hours. We'll see if my restless leg syndrome (if you get it in your peg-leg is it phantom restless leg syndrome?) acts up somewhere over the South Pacific. Signing off, ahoy hoy and all that...

Captain Apricot.