The annual Christmas party my Parent's friend held was a no go--at least for me. I had been on day two of some gunk producing virus: my nose was tight and dry and leaking simatameously, my throat was swollen, and my head and body had sporadic clumps of achy tension. I laid, stomach down, on the oriental-styled throw rug. The smells of basement stained Christmas garb and heat thickly painted the air, while small bursts of dust arised from the carpet (this only exaggerated my headache naturally). And even though my nose could hardly smell this layered smell, it still swished past my nostrils 'till it filled my sinuses and head. I tried to focus on the chintzy plastic wreath I was holding. It was electronic and had small feathered (but definitely) plastic birds that buzzed a two-cord Christmas song. It was warm to the touch, and as I held it, it began to HOLIDAYITIZE* me. I could see the people at the party chuckling while multicolored strings of lights pulsated beyond them. They drank eggnog, wore holiday sweaters, ate fruitcake. How dare they have fun! I was here, stomach down, on some need-of-a-cleaning carpet with two nonsense for friend birds. How is it that at the very precise moment someone is unhappy and ruminating, someone else can be laughing and content?
* A zone induced by Christmas paraphernalia.
