The Cricket Speaks.

Oh right. In case I need to prove my point about Cricket, I've compiled some anecdotes.

We're headed across town to BB's when we spot a horse and carriage at the curb on the opposite side of the street. Well, we amble (I do love a good amble or meander) on over to catch the next light. No sooner do we get to the other side when I hear Cricket gasp in fear and exclaim,"Oh dear Lord, it's a horse!" The lady-driver nearly lost it after Violet, I mean I, deadpanned, "Yeah, she doesn't get out much."

Earlier we visited the great Arch of St. Louis after a delicious lunch at Charlie Gitto's. When I say delicious, I mean mouthwatering, heavenly, out-of-this-world, and knock-you-off-your-socks delicious chocolate cake. Needless to say, I don't know how we walked out of that place, rolling would have been easier (and yes, my pants fit a bit more snug today). So we head on over to the Arch. The closer we get, the more Cricket and I begin to question whether or not now is the time to take off on this adventure.

Actually, the closer we approached to the Arch, the more my stomach began to question whether or not this was such a good idea. Waiting in line to get our tickets, I began to question whether or not I wanted to continue living. Never have I felt so sick in my life. Laying down and dying seemed so sweet. I even asked the ticket-taker if I might come back at another time (in-between breathing deeply) but she was neither in the mood for such a question nor willing to answer it. It seemed that it was now or never. I managed to methodically make my way down the stairs to the landing for the tram. Slowly I slumped to the ground and woefully leaned my head against the wall, grateful for the coolness of the marble. Finally Cricket and Brandine seemed to notice the pale, slightly perspiring, moaning being that made up the last third of their party. Having taken pity on me, Cricket forced, I mean urged, me to sit up and try her "Digestion Yoga Poses." Here I am, in the midst of 30 other tram travellers, sitting on the stairs and slowing breathing and turning. Breathe in, turn 25 degrees to the left and breathe out. Breathe in, turn 25 degrees to the left and breathe out. Back straight, feet facing forward, and continue this time to the right. I looked pathetic. The doors open to the tram to expose a most stomach-flipping sight indeed. The "tram-pod" held 5 seats and was created in the shape of an egg. Ergo, it shall now be referred to as the "egg-pod."

Cricket nearly lost her nerve with that one. No sooner do we get in then she starts hyperventilating and breathing heavily and praying to "Baby Jesus." There is nothing like watching your boss, ahem, co-worker, and other co-worker stuffed inside an egg-pod, hurtling 630 feet in the air to calm your stomach. Seriously. I nearly lost it when Cricket started crossing herself and praying "Oh sweet 6lb 5 oz Baby Jesus, please hear me."

The rest of the trip was sweet and stomach-flipping free. More to come as the events happen!