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I was not sure if I had just contracted some sort of fungus...

Issue Date: Friday, Jan. 20, 2006

Freaking zombies have been replaced by giant transformer-like people… a whole damn family of them, and all four of them doing damage and generally wreaking havoc upon my house in the valley in Utah.

Um, hi. I don’t live in Utah.

I am thinking of doing a sleep study or letting some shrink take a crack at me because this is getting ridiculous.

I will be leaving tomorrow morning for a conference in Charlotte, NC. (I’ll be there until Wednesday, so if anyone is in the area, let me know.) This means travel, and travel means a different bed and a different pillow and no giant husband lying beside me whilst I toss and turn about on the unfamiliar bed.

I do love to travel, I am just not a fan of strange bed with weird smelling comforters.

Speaking of, I was in San Antonio at one of the Marriott’s on the Riverwalk in August of this past year. It was like a convection oven downtown with the temperatures spiking at about 110 degrees. I got out of the heat and checked in at the front desk. I went upstairs with my luggage and tried to relax a little before our 4pm set up time. I put my suitcase on the little luggage stand and unpacked my stuff. I put the hanging stuff in the closet and the other stuff in the drawers.

Normally I just take the comforter off of the bed because, gross… but this time I perched on the bed to take off my shoes. The comforter was still crouched on the bed like some weird Aztec patterned fog. When I went to put my shoes over by the door (I had flip flops on and I exchanged them for socks… as not to touch the carpet with bare tootsies… because again… gross.) I pushed off of the bed and apparently that little motion caused the gates of hell to open and spew forth a stench like that of Lucifer’s sweaty asshole.

Either that or some very hot and moist people had taken naps naked on the comforter, or at least had sex with some foul smelling farm creature because DAYUM(!) that was rank.

I flew from the room and ran down the hallway in search of housekeeping… and rubbing alcohol because I was not sure if I had just contracted some sort of fungus or at the very least a case of the scabies. Lice? Hantavirus? Monkey Pox? Gonorrhea?

Alas, I was cleared by the CDC and housekeeping replaced my comforter with one straight out of a bag. It smelled a bit like bleach, but anything is better than eau de SatanAss.

But on a positive note… I have renewed my love for Daryl Hall.

Yes, yes… just this morning. He accompanied me to work during a particularly slow traffic day. You Make My Dreams Come True… indeed.

What does Daryl Hall have to do with traveling and the comforter from hell? Absolutely nothing. I just thought I would mention it.

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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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