Stand Back! I'll Hurl!

So Ilsa's illness is officially out of the category of "allergic reaction" because I've contracted it too. I was up four times last night to puke and heave, and now I have a mild fever.

After making hefty use of the airsick bags on the plane, Ilsa is doing somewhat better. She's had two marathon sleeps, and both she and Juliette don't seem to be showing too many adverse effects of jetlag. This morning she wouldn't eat breakfast, but when she saw the chocolates Silvia brought to share, she promptly ate a banana in order to have the chance at a sweet. Some little people I know are getting far too good at manipulating their concerned elders. Stinker.

But yeah. So I took a shower, and now I'm going to pretend that I'm fine. I haven't heaved since about 5am, but then, I haven't eaten food since then either. Linda, Trev, Steve, Silvia, Keven and the girls are out toy shopping. I'm here drinking tea and Ribena. There's nothing like being sick in England to bring back memories.

Um, oh yeah! So apparently the gods of weather--not the gods of illness--took pity on us. We successfully escaped the 14" of snow in Kenosha, where the roads were so bad that they closed down I-94. Ha! Snow was the least of our worries, as our departure on Wednesday was marked by sun and clear skies.

However, Virgin Atlantic SUCKS. We've heard about their amazing service for years, how they have the little TVs in the backs of the headrests and etc. But I think those same TVs are from 1995 because they were orange and blurry. We got to choose between such find movies as The Love Guru, The House Bunny, X-Files II, and Step Brothers. Gah!!

But worse than the entertainment was the lack of room. The first class posh lie-down seats and the "Premium Economy" wide leather seats took up half the plane, which left 200 other passengers crammed into 18-inch seats with the TVs 6" from our faces. You know it's bad when your 6-yo complains about the cramped quarters. The stewardesses were downright rude, and I've never tasted anything quite so disgusting as the "food" we were served. Who provides spaghetti for a kids' meal? Do they want sauce everywhere? The plane was delayed by an hour as they waited for the bags to be loaded, so we weren't served until nearly 11pm, by which time everyone just wanted to sleep. Terrible.

I was reminded, after having watch Titanic recently, of the difference between first class and steerage. I told Keven, "Look! We're steerage!" I was even offering the kids the same platitudes from the movie. "They're just serving the people at the front of the plane first, and then they'll bring us our food." Had there been little poodles and chihuahuas onboard who needed to take a dump, they would've brought them back to our row.

Customs and immigration went well on both sides, and in a bizarre twist, O'Hare staff were friendly and the lines relatively short. Ilsa and Juliette played on the electric sidewalks for a while (Ilsa only resumed puking about an hour before take-off, which may have been exacerbated by excitement). So aside from the actual flight, it was a decent trip.

We've already had our lovely fish and chips, which sounds revolting to my stomach right now, but I'm optimistic that we've kicked the bad stuff of our trip out of the way first. Fingers crossed. Stay warm, everyone!

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