Day Three of the Snot-Nosed Bedazzledment Sticky Splash Road Trip of Mitochondrial Desperation
Iowa City, IA
In our family, someone is always sick at Christmas; in 1986, Steve had to be taken to the hospital, in 1990, I threw up all over Sean’s house, etc. This time, no fewer than three of us are sick, with me probably the most miserable. Like a moron, I decided to damn my own torpedoes and play hoops with the locals which was fun, but I blew a gasket and was running another fever by the time I got home. Fuck being sick. I’m tired of it. Three months with this flu and it is still kicking my ass. I’m on my third round of antibiotics to see if we can kill it for good. But y’all, seriously: get the flu shot. This one is BAD.
Covered in mucous, I accompanied Tessa to a midnight mass this evening, where much singing was sung, and much mention of Jesus was made. The songs are always a treat (especially if you try the alto parts), and as Tessa says, it’s important to be in a spiritual setting in front of people, just so you can be a part of the brotherhood for a few moments. Plus, there was this woman behind us singing with full, impassioned, teary-eyed voice (and she was singing the “fancy” version of the soprano parts), making the ne’er-do-wells in front of us snicker. One of them even drew swastikas on his program, but I think it was largely an ironic act. Either that, or he’s never met a Jew, which is entirely possible in Eastern Iowa.
My family is a little mellower this year; the dinner table was actually 35% more sincere than Yuletides before, despite my attempts at cracking wise. I expect the rancor traffic to pick up again tomorrow, as I will be sleep-deprived and Steve will have slept off three or four glasses of wine. Someone will get their feelings hurt, and someone else will want to control the social behavior of yet another someone. There will be equal parts ecstasy and irritability. In other words, another Williams Family Christmas!