don’t forget to pick me up at the airport…

…is what I said to Christy on Wednesday night.
I flew to Atlanta on Thursday afternoon and spent the weekend with Christy and her colorful cast of characters. I had the distinct pleasure of seeing quite a bit of the city as we wandered around, looking for museums and exhibits.
Friday we saw the Bodies exhibition. Not one of the best ideas I’ve ever had. I guess I thought they wouldn’t seem so real, but they were terribly real when viewing them face-to-face. I nearly threw up. I almost passed out. Christy’s friend Jason kept a close eye on me, because I apparently looked like I was going to drop at any minute. I’m lucky I didn’t have to be carried out, because this is the kind of stuff I looked at:
Yeah, that’s a Chinese dude holding hands with himself. That’s his skeleton and the rest of him holding hands with it, minus his skin, hair and…what’s that other little detail? Oh yes, his soul.
And yes, it is a real body. Whether it was an executed prisoner or a found body, it was waiting for me in room 2, just after the basic skeletons that reminded me of the bone church in Rome and made my gorge begin to rise.
Incidentally, I don’t really get that phrase (because which part is my gorge?), but I like it.
My ideas improved dramatically on Saturday, as we visited the World of Coke (pure fizzy awesomeness, Wonka!) and the King Tut exhibit (sans the actual remains of King Tut, thankfully).
I had a great weekend that ended all too quickly. I felt sick again on Sunday as Christy took me to the airport, because that’s how I always feel when saying good-bye to my friends – part desire to toss my cookies and part desire to start sobbing, because is it going to be another year before I see my friend again? Living far away from you guys really bites.
COMING SOON: Many, many idiotic pictures taken at the Coke museum.

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