Iguana Gets the Flu

Christmas is done, family time is done, my short stint at home is finished.

Returning home always leaves me feeling strange and upset in my mind. When I was younger I wanted to get out as fast as possible. Upstate was no place for a young gay male to grow up. I needed out as fast as possible. I needed to move to New York City where a gay male could blossom.

Blossom. Yea, sure in a special sort of way.

So regardless when I am home I always sort of miss it. It's where my family is, it's where everything I was raised is. I love the city don't get me wrong. I love theater and the opportunities I get while I am here. But since I was raised upstate and not 3000 miles away, I know that I could always visit. This entry isn't about my thoughts on the city though.

So yesterday I had to make my return home. It was nice to breath fresh air, to see my loved ones and to relax for a bit. Time moves slower there, I swear.

Then I got the flu on the bus ride home. What?! Why? Is it a sign? Am I meant to come back to the city? Is this a sign saying, remember all the shit that happened to you? Well you're coming back to the city AGAIN and it's not going to end!

So for three plus hours I was puking and other such things on the bus ride. Thank God it was dark, I must have been paler than a new moon, perhaps that's why I was glowing.

So I returned to the city feeling like absolute crap. Which only seemed appropriate I suppose. I did come home with Judy Garland's TV Show on DVD though. So I can't be defeated THAT easily.