Dear LJ,

My boy Geoff heard from his mother the other day that she changed her mind about moving. She is now planning on keeping their house in Singapore, the house he grew up in as a child. Yay. So, yesterday was a day of mushy celebration. Pancakes for lunch severed by our newly appointed Favorite Waitress, Anna, started things off, then lots of wink wink back at his place. Things were going along swimmingly, (god I hate that word, “swimmingly”) until about midnight when we realized we were starving. No biggie. Geoff lives downtown, it’s easy to find some place to eat at midnight. So hand in hand we walked down the main drag to a Steak and Shake for some fries and chicken fingers. As we’re walking I started to realize just how hungry I was. My stomach was in knots and I was starting to feel light headed.

I’m such a wimp.

Finally we reach Steak and Shake, get our table, and order our food. My stomach is still braiding itself into little friendship bracelets, and I can barley keep my eyes open. Dear lord, what kind of a wimp am I? I know I work up early for class but it’s only midnight. I’m a college kid, I should be able to stay up around midnight without any trouble. So I rested my head on the table for a few and fought to keep my eyes open till our food arrived.

First thing we get?

Cole slaw.

Kayt1: Why in the hell did I order cabbage covered in mayo when my tummy hurt?
Kayt2: Because, Kayt1, you are an idiot.
Kayt1: Oh.

I then excuse myself and go to the ladies room, splash some water on my face, and try to wake up. Still I’m feeling funky. When we get the rest of our food all I can do is manage to down four French fries. Back to the ladies room for more water in the face. At this point in time I notice that I’m looking a little red in the face. I make one last attempt at eating before I’m back in the ladies room with my head nicely situated above a toilet saying goodbye to those four French fries.

Okay, not really sweet, but I can handle it. I spiffen up the best I can, grab Geoff and go to pay. And that’s when I start seeing stars. So while he pays I went outside for some fresh air. There’s little ole’ me, alone, downtown on high street at a bit past midnight swaying, watching the road in front of me morph and twist as these little black and white spots of light dance in front of me and the remaining contents of my stomach begin a new game of ping pong in my belly. Damn. I am not going to throw up on myself and pass out on high street while on a date. I just wont.

When Geoff finally comes out of the Steak and Shake I grab him, walk around the corner, and there, on the first little patch of dirt I can find, I throw up. And, my poor boyfriend gets to stand beside me through all of it.

Then he threw up.

What a pair.

Yes, I have had better moments.

So there I was, sitting in the dirt of a parking lot off of high street in a cold sweat, shaking, while Geoff gives me a little pat on the back, and an “it’s okay”, “you’ll be alright”. Poor boy was so confused. He thought I was emotionally worked up, like I had something bad to say to him, and that’s why I was sick.

About ten minutes later we hobble back to his apartment when I promptly planted myself on his bathroom floor and began praising his toilet. Somewhere along the line my contacts got put away and I found myself in his bed getting nine glorious hours of sleep.

One of the first things he said to me this morning-- “So, we finally got to sleep together. How’d it make you feel?”
Me-- “Nauseous.”

I hate the flu.

And, let’s get away from all this sickly green icky stuff.
http://www.boohbah.com/zone.html
It frightens me with it’s happy beeps and rainbow colors.