Spacecamp is probably out of the question.

So, on Friday I had the opportunity to ride in a chopper, a.k.a. "helicopter."

Not good.

The mogul owns said helicopter and I, along with the V.P. (my sister), the Sales guy (G.) , the mogul and the co-pilot hopped in the helicopter for the normally 2 hr. drive/trip to La Paz. (North of Cabo. I think.)

You must know:

• I did not eat breakfast prior to takeoff.
• I did not eat lunch prior to takeoff.
• I get motion sick.
• It was hotter than all-get out, with humidity at like 70%.
• The normal drive to La Paz is normally dangerous and hugely frustrating. Think: two-lane highway. Behind semis. With crazy Mexican drivers. (I can say that. Why? Because none of them actually have to go to school or take any sort of driver's training. Kinda like Michigan drivers...)

About 3/4 of the way there, my sister duly noted that I was turning a lovely shade of green.

Long story short, I made it to La Paz without experiencing any reversals of fortune. I was thankful. Why? Throwing up in front of your new boss and perfect strangers would be amazingly humiliating. I would henceforth be monikered "the puker." I attempted to avoid that at all costs.

I stayed strong.

Ok, sort of.

After touchdown (I act as if it was a flippin' space shuttle), we stopped at a pharmacia and bought some Mexican-version of bonine. (Interesting fact: Mexican drugas do not come with directions...interesting...) After that time, I ate and was fine.

Ride back: I did alright. And, we rode over the coast. It was gorgeous. At least it was each time I felt well enough to not puke when I turned my head.

My sister said I was, and I quote, "a trooper."

For the rest of the evening I layed on the sofa. I watched a lovely movie. Love Actually. Anyone seen it? I enjoyed it.

In sum, me and the helicopter did not mix.