Sick Today

Angela is president of the Weems Reunion now. All the other nominees have ridden mules and traveled to church in a wagon, but somehow she got the position. It's just not right. When I mentioned to her that I was going to contest the election based on the mule factor, she said she has ridden in Son's falcon hundreds of times and that's about the same as riding a mule. Typical twisted politician's reasoning.

We did not eat inside after all, thank goodness. Dinner on the grounds would not be dinner on the grounds if you ate it inside. It would be dinner inside, which is not the same thing as dinner on the grounds. Everybody knows that.   A couple of months ago, I wrote here about the reunion food and how miraculous it is that no one ever gets food poisoning from it. Now I'm sitting here wondering if maybe I'm the first.

The Parkers gave us a travel update, as usual. J.T., my cousin who has converted to Orthodox Judaism and lives on the West Bank, has had another child in the past year, Marian has married someone in Monte Negro and has an unpronounceable last name. Ellen has received some sort of prized residency in neurosurgery and will be moving with her new oncologist husband to San Francisco. On Lamar's side, Mac has been given a full professorship at Harvard Medical School. Mac was sitting across the aisle from me, and somehow he looks exactly like a Harvard professor all of a sudden. He didn't look like one the last time I saw him. Of course, he wasn't one the last time I saw him. On our side, we had a bunch of new babies to show. The Parkers travel, Lamar's branch rises rapidly in the medical profession (although 85% of the Parkers are physicians, too) and our branch reproduces.

I had a dream last weekend. This is notable because I rarely ever have a dream that I remember. In this one, Angela, Pat, Sissy and I were all staying in a hotel on the Gulf Coast. I don't know why. We were all sitting around talking, and they told me I had to get in the shower first. I don't know why. I looked around for my toiletry bag, but I couldn't find it because all their stuff was strewn from corner to corner of that room. I don't know why. Angela was in the middle of telling some sort of story, and the others were enthralled by it so I didn't want to ask them to help me find my stuff, but I needed it in the shower. I kept digging through all kinds of junk on the floor, and when I got over to the area where Sissy's things were, her little chihuahua dog attacked me. The thing grabbed hold of my arm with its teeth and wouldn't let go. I was trying to throw it off, and I was screaming even, but Angela just kept talking and Pat and Sissy were hanging on her every word. Finally, Pat saw the mess I was in and she told Sissy. Sissy walked over, pulled the dog off, paid no attention to the blood streaming from my arm, turned around and said to Angela,"So what happened next?" Angela looked at me, paid no attention to the blood streaming from my arm, and said, "You haven't gotten in the shower yet?"