Faffing About the Motherland: The Grand Finale
Okay, so I've been back in the States for nearly a week, and I've been lax in posting. However, there... wasn't much to post, really. For the sake of being complete, have a run-through of the rest of my trip.
Day 4
This was the day that I started TMI Time and was stuck in bed most of the day. It turns out that it wasn't all TMI Time. I got food poisoning. Again. Marta blamed the causa de atun I ate cold. I blame the mayo in the causa de atun I ate cold. Regardless, I couldn't eat anything with grease or fat in it. On Christmas Eve. Awesome.
I wrapped presents with Marta and introduced her to the awesome that is A Christmas Story. We didn't get to finish the movie because of said present wrapping, along with my feeling like total crap and needing to rest. My aunt Gladys was awesome and got me juice and made me tea, and I managed to pick myself up enough to get dressed and do a video conference with my family in the States like I'd wanted.
I survived the party long enough to say hello to most of my family, watch some fireworks, medicate Marta's cat to calm him down because of the fireworks, and help troll my younger cousins about when they'd be able to open their presents. The chicken soup managed to make my illness flare up again (WTF), so I called it early.
Day 5
I did just about nothing. I stayed in bed, went on AIM, watched A Christmas Story, and my aunt Gladys continued her hella awesome by providing me edible and potable things.
Day 6
The crud had just about wended its way out of my system, so that meant I had to get things ready for my family. That meant going to Minka, this huge market in Callao. (I'd provide a link to the site, but Web of Trust is kind of squeemish over it.) Marta, my eternal traveling companion, and I set off, and hunted down nearly everything on the list. The last item needed a special trip, which would turn out to happen tomorrow. My dumb ass managed to forget that kilograms weigh more than pounds, so my tendon started to be all LOLNO once we returned home. Fortunately, artimusdin was able to prescribe a treatment over AIM.
Day 7
This was the "get everything that my parents told me to do done day: part two". The last item on the list, a bracelet to match a necklace my mom bought on one of her trips, required another journey to Miraflores. Before that, I went on a good-bye outing with my Aunt Christina, her two kids (the ones I helped troll), and my grandmother. Guys, there really need to be more gelaterias/ice cream shops in the States. The stuff I had was epic.
My Aunt Christina and her husband, my Uncle Julio, took me over to the cemetary, where the whole damn reason for this trip was waiting. I had flowers, set them down on the grave, and then started bawling. My aunt and uncle weren't phased at all, handed me some tissues, and then led me through some prayers.
The trip to Miraflores was made possible by one of my uncles, who was a saint to do it. Marta and I managed to pass out in the back seat on the way there, and picked out the bracelet in record time. I wanted some necklaces and such for myself, but had no luck. Poo.
After getting back, it was a matter of getting everything in the bags, saying good bye, and getting to the airport, where the whole metric is more than imperial came to bite me in the ass again. Stupid overweight fees.
A 2011 Year in Review post coming soon.
Day 4
This was the day that I started TMI Time and was stuck in bed most of the day. It turns out that it wasn't all TMI Time. I got food poisoning. Again. Marta blamed the causa de atun I ate cold. I blame the mayo in the causa de atun I ate cold. Regardless, I couldn't eat anything with grease or fat in it. On Christmas Eve. Awesome.
I wrapped presents with Marta and introduced her to the awesome that is A Christmas Story. We didn't get to finish the movie because of said present wrapping, along with my feeling like total crap and needing to rest. My aunt Gladys was awesome and got me juice and made me tea, and I managed to pick myself up enough to get dressed and do a video conference with my family in the States like I'd wanted.
I survived the party long enough to say hello to most of my family, watch some fireworks, medicate Marta's cat to calm him down because of the fireworks, and help troll my younger cousins about when they'd be able to open their presents. The chicken soup managed to make my illness flare up again (WTF), so I called it early.
Day 5
I did just about nothing. I stayed in bed, went on AIM, watched A Christmas Story, and my aunt Gladys continued her hella awesome by providing me edible and potable things.
Day 6
The crud had just about wended its way out of my system, so that meant I had to get things ready for my family. That meant going to Minka, this huge market in Callao. (I'd provide a link to the site, but Web of Trust is kind of squeemish over it.) Marta, my eternal traveling companion, and I set off, and hunted down nearly everything on the list. The last item needed a special trip, which would turn out to happen tomorrow. My dumb ass managed to forget that kilograms weigh more than pounds, so my tendon started to be all LOLNO once we returned home. Fortunately, artimusdin was able to prescribe a treatment over AIM.
Day 7
This was the "get everything that my parents told me to do done day: part two". The last item on the list, a bracelet to match a necklace my mom bought on one of her trips, required another journey to Miraflores. Before that, I went on a good-bye outing with my Aunt Christina, her two kids (the ones I helped troll), and my grandmother. Guys, there really need to be more gelaterias/ice cream shops in the States. The stuff I had was epic.
My Aunt Christina and her husband, my Uncle Julio, took me over to the cemetary, where the whole damn reason for this trip was waiting. I had flowers, set them down on the grave, and then started bawling. My aunt and uncle weren't phased at all, handed me some tissues, and then led me through some prayers.
The trip to Miraflores was made possible by one of my uncles, who was a saint to do it. Marta and I managed to pass out in the back seat on the way there, and picked out the bracelet in record time. I wanted some necklaces and such for myself, but had no luck. Poo.
After getting back, it was a matter of getting everything in the bags, saying good bye, and getting to the airport, where the whole metric is more than imperial came to bite me in the ass again. Stupid overweight fees.
A 2011 Year in Review post coming soon.