Club Soda, Vomit, and Oranges?

[Author's Note: Not for the faint-hearted or general public]

If you've taken Cross Cultural Studies at Vanguard, you should be relatively familiar with the phrase, "Beer, Vomit, and Pumpkins". Well, here's a summary of my own weekend experience I like to call, "Club Soda, Vomit, and Oranges."

For months the youth leadership team at WECA had been preparing a ministry trip to Bonneville. We were going to do the worship for a Saturday night young adult's service and the Sunday morning church service.

But then the snow flew. This entire winter Edmonton has gotten next to no snow. (Like, so much so we had to toboggan down a grass hill in a wagon.) But on Friday night, let me tell you, an entire season's storehouse of snow dumped on us (like about 18cm worth?).

It was absolutely breathtaking. I stayed over at Taylor's with Alicia, and come 9:00am Saturday morning we were pushing my car from it's very stuck position. The snow was up to the bottom of the door (no lies). Let me tell you, it was indeed a challenge to get poor Charlie running and freely mobile.

So after 45 minutes, much gruelling driving, and a pit stop at the Great Canadian Bagel, we made it whole and safely to the church. Our drive to Bonneville became a huge safety issue, so we discussed, then prayed, then discussed some more, and we all ended up with a peace about postponing the trip and staying in the city to do alternative ministry.

Now, what kinda of Pentecostal ministry team could begin the work of the Lord without having some "fellowship" to start the day. So after more prayer and debate we all hopped in the 15 passenger van and hit the roads, destined for the great East Side Mario's.

It was there that I hooked myself up with that treacherous salad--a Soho Chicken Salad: "Grilled marinated chicken, mandarin oranges, crispy oriental noodles, iceberg and romaine lettuces, sesame seeds, and sweet peppers tossed in a light sesame ginger dressing."

Now here's the climax of this story: After we ate, I booked it home feeling uncomfortably cold and nauseous. So I showered, went for a nap, and woke up 3 hours later vomiting up that friendly Soho Chicken Salad.

I puked 5 times, and on the third round, that dear salad not only used my throat as a passageway to the outside world, but that vomit had so much passion and fervour that it passed through my nose as well.

Here's the punch line: I sat on my kitchen floor whining and crying to my dad for like 30 minutes about my burning nasal passages, and as I sat there, whenever I blew my nose, orange chunks and lettuce pieces would come out from my nose. True story.

[Does this make me a gross person? baahah. I had a hoard of mandarin oranges up my nose. Now that I look back I think that that's bloody hilarious. Ahahaha.h...ah.]

So I highly doubt you cared to know all that. But I figured that an oddly gross blog entry was better than no blog entry at all. Mwahaha. This is what y'all get when I'm stuck at home sick and have no other creative writing ideas.

Oh, and I almost forgot. The club soda part of "Club Soda, Vomit, and Oranges" came from the liquid-puke round after the nose-puke round. It was purely an upheaval of super foamy club soda, and was ten times more comfortable than the nose-puke round... woot.

THE END!