the devil went down to Georgia

I’m recovering from a huge bout of either food poisoning or stomach flu. The last time this happened to me was July 1997, and I’m hoping that another nine years pass before it happens again. Throughout most of Monday and all of Tuesday I was a miserable mess.

On Tuesday morning there was a slender window of opportunity when I felt semi-human, so I decided to take advantage of it and hit the Safeway down the road to buy some ginger ale, vegetarian broth, and Pedialyte. There’s an apartment complex for physically and mentally disabled people across the street, and a bunch of the mentally disabled guys were waiting at the bus stop right across from my house. When I stumbled out to the car, they pointed, hooted, and hollered. If I hadn’t been so sick, and if it hadn’t been 20 million degrees outside (I really hate the heat), I would’ve laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. Once I got to Safeway, the old dude manning the express aisle tried to chat me up, which slowed down the whole checkout process—a luxury I really couldn’t afford to take, because I was exhausted and weak and didn’t know if/when another bout of violent sickness was going to hit. I don’t understand why he was interested in me; I was sweaty, with disheveled hair, a face as white as paper, and I surely reeked of vomit and shit. How very sexy!

Anyway...on Friday I am heading to the Deep South for the first time in my life. When I studied abroad, my closest, attached-at-the-hip friend was Annida, a first-year Cypriot Brit who, according to half our dorm, was rumored to be my lesbian lover. And I can’t say I blame them for suspecting this, because she and I were always together. In 2001 Annida married an American and has been in the States ever since. They are now living in the funky, quirky, progressive city of Athens, GA. And because I haven’t seen Annida since she visited me in January 2000, a reunion is long overdue. Actually, this was originally intended to be a three-way reunion (mind out of the gutter, please!), because during our second term at Goldsmiths, we were also glued at the hip to our American friend Jorge, who we haven’t seen since we all met up in London for New Year’s 1995-96. However, Jorge is now unable to make it to Georgia this weekend, so it’ll just be me darkening Annida’s doorstep.




Here is a photo of the three stooges at Stonehenge during our time at Goldsmiths.






And here we are during our New Year’s reunion, at Waterloo Station, just before we bid Jorge adieu (he was studying in Spain that year and needed to catch his Eurostar train back to Seville). I love how I’m rocking the vagrant look. That coat—my dad’s coat from his Air Force days—weighed like 800 pounds, but damn, it kept me warm!

So, I’m looking forward to spending a long weekend—my birthday weekend, no less; I’ll be 32 on Sunday!—with my much-missed Annida in the South. She was the first person to expose me to Greek food and should be venerated for that reason. Imagine a life without dolmades!




song heard most recently before posting: Crazy On You —Heart