Alexander Solzhenitsyn endured the gulags to bring you his writing. Edward R. Murrow risked being bombed in "the blitz." Now I think you should know what I suffered yesterday to file my report...

I rolled in to a little town, knowing I was behind in my journal and determined to find wifi. Finally, after a long search I found a little restaurant/bar that was attached to a really nice hotel.

"If I buy a coffee can I use your wifi," I asked. And then, to play on his sympathize I added, "I have a blog online and if I don't update it every now and then my mom worries. In fact it's been two days, she probably thinks I'm dead!"

Well, how could he refuse? So I sat outside on the little patio under some really nice trees and started writing, sipping my coffee creme... It was great, I may stay and answer some e-mails and journal guestbook posts, I thought.

I was about halfway though my post when I started noticing little dots appearing on my computer case, and then my keyboard... "what the hell," I thought. Then I saw them all over the table, and (GASP) there was one in my coffee! I was being dive-bombed by tiny bugs falling from the trees!

It was a come to Jesus moment. Should I go inside? No, I look and smell like a pig and the hotel guy is in a really nice suit. Should I stop my report? No, my mom probably already thinks I'm dead. I can't wait another day!

DAOOOOOH!

You have never seen a touring cyclist type and upload pictures so fast!

There is one in my coffee! I thought! Should I drink it anyway? I have a half a cup left! And my cream! Oh, sweat cream what to do!? I had to reason it was just protein, people in China eat insects and they seem to be doing just fine? After all they are kicking our ass economically. AHOOOO! What to do!?

Finally I reasoned that I could NOT waist a coffee creme under any circumstances--I drank it.

Then, the true horror of it all hit me. If they are on the table, the keyboard, the mouse, the creme....GASP.....they are falling in my hair!

Forget the spell check and the fact that mayor is spelled mayer! Does my head itch or is it my imagination?! Are these some kind of tick related to the Rocky mountain spotted fever variety!? Oh the humanity!

Finally I was done. I clicked save, shut down the computer, packed up and was OUT of there!

Then of course, I had to deal with the real and/or imagined itching all over, but mostly my head.

It's the next day now and I seem to be ok. Hopefully I won't get some terrible French illness? Still, I think you should know what I have endoured for my own unique form of art!