It has become quite apparent that I have the immune system of a premature infant from a 3rd world country, as I have fallen ill for the second time in 3 weeks. I'm on the mend, but for the last 5 days, I have been incapacitated. I have only been punched in the face once (when I was 6, by a young boy named Phillip, on the playground of a Unitarian church in Houston, TX) and I can tell you, the flu feels something like that. Without the shame.
Being sick is one of the few times I wish I had a boyfriend. On a day-to-day basis, singlehood rocks, but when I'm under the weather, it would be nice to have someone fetch me a stack of fashion magazines. Or tell me I'm still pretty from across the room, lest he get sick. I'd really appreciate it if he'd buy me expensive soup from M Cafe during his lunch hour. Sigh.
There's no more time for sulking, as I'm about to jump on a plane headed for Texas. That's right cowboys and cowgals, I'm off to the Lone Star State. Dallas and Austin, to be exact. Christmas without Houston sounds mighty fine to me.
In the olden days, traveling homebound meant a guaranteed hook-up. Now there's a 50/50 chance. So who knows? Dallas is uncharted territory for me, but I'm hanging with family. The fun thing about Texas is that anything can happen. So saddle up Dallasites! I packed my leather skirt.
Then there's Austin. I get to visit my dad and two of my favorite people: The Angel Sisters. That's their real last name. Only in Texas. I haven't hooked-up with a guy in Austin since college, but it's a good time no matter what.
Merry Christmas to you Jesus freaks and people who have nothing else to celebrate.
Happy Hanukkah to the chosen ones.
Go Kwanzaa to the 8 of you that celebrate that.