Some Sort of Flu

In the days right after Christmas nearly everyone I talked to in the Bay Area seemed to either have, been recovering, or know someone close, who had a pretty bad flu. It lasted for folks between 3 days and 2 weeks, generally was a headache, fever, coughing, and achy muscles.

I, of course, listened to these people thinking, "what weak immune systems, they should eat more fruit," and persuaded them come out drinking.

I like to go skiing in the week between xmas and new years, it's this useless time period when you're in school when one should be "writing," but the fact is one has basically two options - 1) eat, watch tv, and sleep or 2) go skiing. Or at least, those have always been my two options.

We awake at 5am after a night that included hanging with old friends, drinking, and a good basketball game. We power up with coffee and the rare energy one can gather for an exciting day of fresh snow.

We go to Kirkwood, my friend has a recent fondness for the out-of-the-way tahoe resort due to the good snow, solid terrain, and cheap prices. It's a good day. By the end my legs are cramping - an indication that I skiied hard and that I'm out of shape. Both true.

We meet our other friends after lots of traffic and crash in a small hotel room. We have trouble finding a place in South Shore to eat, all the buffets are closed. What a joke. I notice all the blackjack minimums are $10 or $15. Poker is popular, 3-6. A little pricey. Finally, we find a buffet and have 15 minutes to pig out.

No one wants to gamble except me, and I have no money. If I'm going to gamble, it's going to be when I have money or at least when I can have fun, and I can't have fun gambling alone in South Shore's shitty-ass casinos. To gamble while feeling shitty, with people looking over my shoulder, without much leeway, would've been about as fun as a kidney stone.

I can't sleep. Four dudes in a small ass hotel. I now conclude there is nothing worse. My head aches, I have a fever, I hope it is the beer or the altitude. I shiver and hope it's not the bird flu.

The next morning it's pouring rain. Rain is the worst for skiing. It makes you wet and cold and the snow heavy and wet. When it cools, the slopes turn to ice, which is hard to turn on, and hurts when you fall. Me, a sickly bastard, coughing, headache, couldn't get paid to go up on the slopes, much less shell out the dough for a lift ticket.

My three friends vary in their enthusiasm for going up, but all end up skiing Kirkwood for about a half day. I sit in the deli and talk with housewives, teenagers, and college chicks. I try to read by the fire, but everyone is huddled indoors and there's nothing worse than crowds when you're feeling under the weather.

Part of the whole reason for going up was to stay in my buddies parents new luxury time share in tahoe...we go there to crash that night, with the hope of possibly skiing the next day, although from all indications, the weather will be even worse.

I buy TheraFlu and am miserable. I can't eat dinner. I sleep in a big nice, comfortable bed from 7pm-10pm. I am happy to hear my buddies girlfriend's flight to Reno has been cancelled and he wants to go home to meet her for new years. I go back to sleep from 11pm-9am. We pack up and are leaving. We listen to the news and the roads are closing around tahoe due to mudslides. Luckily we are just west of the hwy 80 closure. There are floods in the bay area as well, hwy 80 is closed in vacaville. We will go around.

Finally, we get home on new years eve. I hop into bed. I awake to eat dinner, a good mom-cooked one. I hop back in bed.

It was one of the worst ski trips ever, but still beats watching tv, unless it's the Sopranos.