The Handmade Home, LLC

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All the while, there I was, in the clear. My mug shot would look like Nick Nolte meets Justin Bieber.

Clips show scantily-clad revellers returning home in the morning after wild nights out at the party resort in Majorca. But we all know he has absolutely You poor thing! This was the worst kind of virus, too. One woman nearly trips over she untied shoelaces as she tries to get away from the filming men.

British ex-soldier turned DJ is revealed to be behind Magaluf 'walk of shame' website

So healthy, that the pediatrician had to remind me to bring the kids in for their physicals. With everything running the gamut from hand foot and mouth, to ear infections and freak accidents…. Then I ended my career at a high right before we moved a decade later as a veteran. Well-versed in the game of motherhood with them not seeing us for an entire year. Jamin and I had plenty of times where we passed each other in the hallway from one bedroom to the next, handling the aftershocks and damage control and eruptions like champs… high-fiving each other like zombies in between. Tandem loads of laundry with mattresses pulled to the center of the house for Disney Channel-athons waiting on the next big eruption, was how we rolled. I have my battle wounds and the best vom story whenever parents gather to share their horrors around the campfire of crazy experiences. This was a well-earned hiatus. But in the world of all things sickness and paying the pied piper hello karma… I was disgustingly overdue. If this was a game of dodgeball, I was about to be tagged for a good timeout with a smack in the face. Right back to reality. Thou shalt be humbled profusely when thou are mucheth overdue. And he always catches it. If I can hang in there for two days, smack a blue ribbon on my sleeve and call me Mother Teresa. It had been one of those weeks in our house. Or should I say, tiny two-bedroom apartment. In the middle of relocating, right after our move, we encountered a demon of a virus. But after the second round we quickly dismissed ourselves to get out of their hair and wished them luck. And knew our fate was probably sealed. Three days later, just when we thought we were in the clear, it started with Jamin. So we literally thought there were rules and we were clear. And what shall henceforth be known as the Mutant Killer Alien Bubonic Plague from Hell, hit our family full-on. One by one like a good round of Jenga, they toppled and fell. I have to say, my biggest complaint was the obnoxious timing. There should be some rule that if your entire fam is going to catch it, it needs to be all at once. We thought we were in the clear, and then two to three days later with no predictability, another one would bite the dust. This was the worst kind of virus, too. Think of the all things explosive, and we had it. The kind that makes you worry. Until a day later they were bounding back because kids do that. Knocking people on their tahonkas with well placed rounds of humble pie since well, Eve. All the while, there I was, in the clear. So the rational not a doctor me said if I was going to get it, after caring for everyone and being doused in projectile bodily fluids myself… I was clearly fine. I never get sick. So I really needed to squeeze it in. So no judging, because karma. Call me selfish. Call me completely ignorant. I had no idea I should have quarantined myself for say, another two measly hours. Because I went in to that appointment. And there I was, sitting in the chair, with the full on smock, getting my highlights-lowlights groove on. So proud of myself. The sweet, unsuspecting gal, chatted on mid-story, oblivious to the sudden winds of change. An old photo of Emerson having her hair washed. Since I have nothing to document this horribly scarring event. I, on the other hand, had out of absolutely nowhere broken out into a cold sweat. The end from which Mt. Vesuvius might erupt, is a great mystery. And there I was, suddenly writhing in agony. And the prize was escaping unscathed. My pounding heart from pure panic was worsening the situation. Because I was legit trapped. I wanted to find their bathroom and lay in the fetal position. The color had drained from my face. The sweat trickled down underneath the cape of death I wore. And I thought… this is it. This is how it ends. I was about to explode from both ends and simultaneously implode or something as a result. I became acutely aware of my surroundings and the best escape route. I needed to move. It was coming in waves. I needed to move. I had it somewhere in my brain that my heart was pumping the virus faster through my body so I was pretty much screwed because anxiety. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror with full on foils and a cape. And I thought: This is what it feels like to crap your pants in your adult life. In front of everyone. Right before you die. I was in sheer panic mode. Because this was what it felt like. You know the pose. Likened to downward dog, except standing up and bent over while you grasp your knees and breathe strategically like every breath counts for the sake of humanity. The one where you want to summon your mother out of thin air to hold your hair back while you breathe like your life depends on it. The toilet is in a secure vicinity but if I acknowledge it, game over. Suck in all the air. Breathe it all out. I weighed my options. And as suddenly as the first wave appeared, it dissipated. This is what Jamin did. And the offspring who went boldly before me with the Mutant Bubonic Plague Virus. The symptoms would come and then go, oh so suddenly. I could stay here and fight it, or I could go. Maybe it will pass… I thought stupidly as I worked my way out of the bathroom. At this point, it was a game. Because I was risking it. I was either really sick and had exposed a bunch of unsuspecting kind people like an idiot, or I had made myself paranoid and was acting like an idiot. Either way, I was an idiot. The clock was ticking. This is what I get for judging Eve. I sat back down in the chair, and she finished off the last foils. Until the next wave appeared. And I knew what I had to do. Foils ablaze, cape flying, I went to find her in the back. It was lose all dignity with bodily explosions which was sure to result in my death, or go ahead and call it off now. And retain a little dignity. She was super sweet and told me when to take my foils out. See the I-missed-my-mouth-while-drinking-coffee example, above. So there I was. Barely taking off the cape. Paying for my hair. Did I mention the foils were still in? I was a virus spreader. The walk of shame. To the parking lot. Past the hoard of people. Who stared a little. Said hoard was quite confused. Just some chick, perusing weirdly down the sidewalk in a half writhe, half walk. Hair full of foils. I always said I was going to do that for halloween. With foils and hair conditioner and a cape. Except this was the middle of the day and this was more accurately a representation of death. Or a less attractive version of Edward Scissor Hands meets Beetlejuice went to the hair salon and died. To the car where Jamin sat waiting. He pulled up, wounds still fresh from his own visit from the Mutant Killer Alien Bubonic Plague from Hell, he knew better than to laugh. So I did instead. A weird, writhing laugh filled with moans in the middle that sounded like a victim of torture because I felt so bad. But still fully aware of how absolutely absurd I looked. We both burst into laughter. At this point I was full on writhing. I went home and fought the urge to be sick for a while. I hovered in the bathroom some more, foils still intact. Jamin still wondering if it was safe to take my photo, or if I might turn into that possessed chick from The Exorcist, conjure an evil spirit and murder him. This would also make an interesting headline in that news section on Facebook. My mug shot would look like Nick Nolte meets Justin Bieber. I finally took my hair down and washed it at the predetermined time. I was for sure I was going to die, but Mt. So I finally took a Dramamine and went to bed. And proceeded to fight it off for the next 24 hours, only to be left feeling weak and weird. Hashtag CerseiLannister So there it is. The time I almost died and spontaneously imploded in a salon chair, and exposed innocent bystanders all at once. And then did the walk of shame. Jamin just says he wishes he had a photo. But we all know he has absolutely You poor thing! This happened to me last December. My whole family had it a week before. I thought I was in the clear. Guess where I was when symptoms hit. I was sitting at the table and was like OMG what is happening. Needless to say that is hopefully the first and last time I will ever have to puke in a public restroom. Because seriously being in public just makes being sick so much worse. At least you can laugh now! We had this SAME plague go through all 6 of us, picking us off ONE AT A TIME last fall! I know…the unthinkable happened to me and I had to do the poopy walk of shame at Winco grocery store in front of my mortified teenager. I can NEVER go back there again! I was stuck for the next 3 days like that, and completely missed the wedding. I had a UTI {TMI? Jamin gave me two dramamine — enough to kill a horse, and I made it through the ceremony. But passed out at the reception. And slept for two days. So sorry that happened to you! I feel HORRIBLE for laughing as hard as I did. Tears streaming down my face. In my defense, I can soooo relate. I did this in a mall. With my best friend. Because Momma needs to get out shopping for a while. But I was in the mall hallway. Next to the Coach store. And I have a husband and 3 boys. She was so sweet and drove me the hour home, after I left the vomit for Mall Security to clean up. It came out of absolutely nowhere! Such an awful, awful experience. I am glad you are feeling much better.

But after the second round we quickly dismissed ourselves to get out of their hair and wished them luck. Inthe walk of shame may also refer to an exhibitionist walking in public while exposed—either partially or fully naked—and trying to reach a place of safety and privacy. But we all know he has absolutely You poor thing. Nagasaki might erupt, is a great mystery. An old photo of Emerson having her hair washed. Foils ablaze, cape flying, I went to find her in the back. Retrieved February 10, 2010.