Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale . . .

Parker and I are back from Maine. We spent the weekend at his best friend's wedding. A beautiful event . . . Maine in September is crisp, the chowder hot and the coastline a sparking clear blue-green.

But that was during the daytime.

Packed in a house with other Delaware geeks, we were pretty tame by day: a few day hikes here, lots of trashy magazine reading, bocce ball in the afternoon. But once the sun dipped below the treeline a darker side eventually emerged.

The Delaware house, quaintly named the Blueberry Lodge, hosted parties three nights in a row. Friday I woke up and was OK. Saturday I woke up and was OK. Sunday I woke up and was not OK. I managed to gather my things (although not all of them), make it to the car, hook myself into the seatbelt and politely ask the driver to pull over after five minutes so I could puke. Round 1.

We stopped at McDonald's for brunch. That one came up on I-95 about two hours later. A Big'N'Tasty keeps its flavor even in reverse. Round 2.

We enjoyed a bit of crappy airport food where I tried to keep down a bowl of clam chowder. That one came up shortly after take off, and, since I was in the window seat, I had to wait for the pilot to turn off the "Fasten Seat Belt" sign before I could dispose of my "lunch." Round 3.

At BWI we just missed a B30 to Greenbelt. In my haste to board after waiting 40 minutes, I forgot to grab my camera bag (contents' value: $4000). Round 4 was an emotional KO. So I'm about to go home and slit my throat. Great weekend huh?