Stan and Jeanne came around, Lisa made a fantastic salad, and I pulled the jars from the fridge and cooked up the pasta & sauce.
Once again, the meatballs were a hit. There’s something about my mother’s recipe… anyway, we had a great evening.
Everything was cool until I had to get up in the middle of the night and throw up everything I’d eaten the previous day. This happened four times, at roughly 2 hour intervals.
There’s just no good way to put that.
I spent the day in bed, feverish. Nothing would stay down. Not even water.
I was very afraid that I’d poisoned everyone with my meatballs, but as it turned out, everyone else was feeling fine. The next possible suspect was something I’d eaten at the Paris buffet? I didn’t recall eating anything distinctively different from the others, but it seemed possible at least.
By the next day I was feeling a bit better, and beginning to eat and drink a little, although still being a little cautious.
Lisa, however, was by now thoroughly under the weather with the cold virus introduced to us courtesy of Derek & Teresa. I feel this was probably inevitable, despite the best efforts to avoid this.
The others decided to stick to the planned schedule, and Lisa drove the others into town to spend some time at the Hilton at the Star Trek Experience (see above). This was something I wouldn’t miss out on, seeing as I had done it earlier in the month with James & Sue.
The original plan was that they would eat out at a Teppanyaki restaurant at the Hilton, but at some point in the late afternoon Lisa rang, informing me that they’d be coming home for dinner as the restaurant was booked out until 10:00pm.
We’ve been promising Derek a teppanyaki meal for some time now, but it looks as though it will have to wait a little longer. In a way, I’m happy about this, because I kinda like teppanyaki style and I would have been a little sad to have missed out.
Instead, Lisa cooked a tri-tip I think. I didn’t have any, I was still feeling a little delicate.
Monday night, by special request, was Grill. This was fine by me, I was almost feeling back to normal, and had half a steak.
I want this documented: Derek ate one (1) steak, two (2) chicken breasts, and five (5) hot dogs. He was heard later, complaining that he’d eaten too much. I have no sympathy for him.
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