12:00 a.m.-5:30 a.m., Fri. 19 Oct 2007 –> Wake up with excruciating pain. Go to White Plains Hospital Center (WPHC) with Richard. Mum and dad come to see me. Get called in. Get urinalysis, bloodwork, more urinalysis, CT scan, saline/Levaquin/codine drip. I have a mild infection. Am perscribed Levaquin oral and Motrin 600mg. Go home.

6:00-9:30 a.m., Fri. 19 Oct 2007 –> Eat Vienna Wafers and Yoo-Hoo (in a glass bottle!) out of the vending machine. Sleep. Pain still present.

9:30-10:00 a.m., Fri. 19 Oct 2007 –> Recieve a call from mum saying that Dr. Bregman (an ER doctor) saw that the results from yesterday are inconclusive and appendicits may be present. Call Dr. Bregman, am asked to come in for a new CT scan with contrast.

10:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m., Fri. 19 Oct 2007 –> Go back to WPHC with Richard. Meet dad there. Go into ER and are forced to drink two pints of Barium Sulfate in mixed berry. I chug a dixie cup full and proceed to go into the bathroom to vomit. I am given a saline/Zofran IV, a urinalysis, and a CBC. Two hours later, the Barium Sulfate is gone and I await a CT scan. Go for CT scan. Results show that appendicitis is not present, but instead a large cyst rupture on my ovary. Am later released.

6:00 p.m.-9:30 p.m., Fri. 19 Oct 2007 –> Go home, do laundry, eat dinner, call the parents, pack, and sleep.

20 Oct. 2007 – Go to the parents’ house by 8:00 a.m., eat breakfast, drive to Franklin, eat lunch, go to Sharon Springs to see the Hotel Adler (which is victim to treasure hunters), Imperial Baths (they had the sulphur and magnesium faucets running and people were drinking out of them), and do some shopping. Go back. Read. Eat dinner. Go to Cooperstown for the Halloween Event at the Farmhouse Museum. Come back. Eat dinner. Sleep.

21 Oct. 2007 –> Get up. Eat breakfast. Shower. Pack. Drive home (sleep). Dinner. Back to Mville. Homework. Call parents. Homework. Blogging.

Yeah, life is eventful under me. As a side note, Apple Cider from Sharon Springs is really good because of its high sulphur content.

Okay, so today after the Hellion of Hellion days (okay, so not only is The General going away to Milwaukee [I know] but I spent the entire day calling people at work as well) I had to march in the parade. And you should of heard me: I was like “oh crap, I have to march in the parade” in that same obnoxious tone I used when I was thirteen. And to make it worse, my new shiny Townsend (before y’all kill me…you have to understand that my sewing skills and funds are limited…and Townsend actually sells the most correct stays for the lowest price. I mean, Silly Sisters has a great set, but there is no way I’m spending $300 for something I have to buy myself. I’ll eventually make my own stays) stays don’t fit. They fit pretty well, but there is still that 1″ gap that I’ll need to fix before Friday. So I nearly killed someone over that. But they really are good stays. Heavy duck drilling, nice narrow green stripes, front and back lace, full boning, the works. But that’s another story. So I put these stays on and, hey, my bumroll never arrived with the rest of my stuff on Sunday. It’s probably still in Rich’s car, along with his hat. So I put my grey gown on and did the whole refugee thing. It was weird without a bumroll…I actually looked more 1790s in it.

So we stopped by my grandma’s to wait for the Kish family, and poor Mac was terrified of my dad. Like he got used to my mom and I, but he was scared to death of my dad. I don’t know why, either, especially since he loves my dad. The Kishes werent there at 6:15 so we went over to Fifth Street to line up. I saw Mr. Ryan and the rest of the Fire Department and I was eternally scoffed for using a cell phone to text Richard while I waited in line (what else is a girl to do?). At 6:45 the Kishes showed up and we had three men at arms. It’s not a lot, but it’s better then one. And then we kicked off.

For the first half, I was kind of in my somber, “why do I have to do this?” mode. Then, I looked around. People were waving and smiling. Old Italian ladies, old Irishmen with brogues, little kids with puppies; they were all cheering. I cracked a huge smile (I don’t think I’ve had a smile that big for some time) and waved to everyone. People were cheering from both sides. I saw familiar faces. Best of all, my former dance teacher was in the crowd. I broke formation to run up and give her a hug. All the smiling, waving, and cheering made me forget my frustration or my huge blister on my heel. I felt like a queen, even if I was in refugee’s clothes.