The last few weeks of this pregnancy have really taken their toll on me. That being said, if things don't cool down I will most likely just repost some gems from my old blog until I am stable enough to handle my own life, let alone a blog.
Traveling is one of my favorite things ever. I'm always itching to travel. I, however, love to go to foreign places not to see the sights (although that is always a great bonus). I love culture. I love those moments where I am sitting in a russian Pizza Hut and take a bite of something that is most definitely not pizza. I loved getting scolded by numerous strangers for sitting on some steps without any sort of newspaper or barrier between me and the ground.
I love to travel for the experiences. I appreciate all that I see, but I savor the memories I get to take home with me. The moments I can't capture with a snapshot. I feel bad for those who travel with the mindset that they are there for the sights, to snap a few photos and go home. Don't be blinded by the sights, guys. I won't lie - they are marvelous. But sometimes experiences can be just as marvelous as a photo.
Ask for a band-aid and you get open heart surgery.
Originally posted Nov. 19th, 2011
And by heart I mean toe. By open I mean normal. And by surgery…. I mean first aid care given and performed by none other than Vladi-Daddy himself. Here’s how it happened.
Soper and I were sitting down to a nice homemade dish of macraroni pasta noodles the length of a straw, and some chicken cordon bleu soaked and cooked in oil. (Most likely the same oil that accompanied our friend cabbage a few weeks ago.)
As we finished our dinner, I realized my toe was in dire need of a band aid. (this story happened weeks ago. I am just getting around to writing/posting it now.) lucky for me, Vladimir walked into the kitchen just in time. You see, my toe had been doing it’s thing for a while now, and I had used up my small supply of bandaids. Vladimir was my only hope. (Obi-Wan wasn’t around.)
"Hey! Do you guys have any band-aids around here?"
“bandeed?!” replied the Vladster. He sounded a bit surprised.
“uhhh yeah. You see, uh, my toe.”
“bandeeds is…” he proceeded to lift up his fingers in the form of a gun. I was shot three times. Probably.
“oh! No. No not bandit. Band. Aid. Uh… Wrap? Help?”
Vladimir looked at my toe.
"Excuse me, I am a doctor." He said.
“… What?” that Vladi. He had been holding out on us!
“Let me see.” he said, as he put my foot on the nearest chair. “One moment. Your finger is very bad.”
Soper and I looked at each other in amazement. We had a hero in our midst! He opened the fridge and took out a few mysterious and wizard looking vials. Something you would picture being on the shelves in potions class.
"What are those for? Do they clean it out?"
“Yes.”
Vladimir then walked over to the drawer full of silverware. Urine practically shot down my legs when I saw what he was holding. Friends… This was no butter knife. This was the knife of a serial killer. I shot a look at Soper.
Turns out Vladi has more that he is hiding other than his doctoring skills. You see, this is the moment where he became a comedian. He acted as if my toe needed to be cut off. I held my breath. Then he laughed and used the knife to open the vials. Not cool, Vlad. Not. Cool.
After pouring some flesh eating serpent venom on my toe (commonly referred to as hydrogen peroxide), Vladi finished the job with some iodine and a band-aid.
Not only did my toe heal overnight, (until I lost a game on my iPod and my leg spasmed resulting in me slamming my toe against a wooden bunk bed and bleeding to death.) buuuut we also got to have a great bonding experience with the Vladster.
pre-surgery |
You're killin me smalls! Seriously. Lets go to st Pete's. husbands will love that... Right?
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