Motion sickness plagued me as a kid. I could pretty much be counted on to vomit at least once during even relatively short family road trips, especially in newer cars where the windows would be closed to favor the air conditioning.

In the summer before seventh grade my mom signed me up for a class for "gifted and talented" (read as: brainy and unpopular) children. The class involved daily voyages to Manhattan and other mythical lands far away from our comfortable Long Island white trash receptacle. We'd get to learn all about ultra-cool places like the NYSE, Central Park and the Javitz center (and to this day I retain NO knowledge of whatever useless trivia I was shown). So my agenda for most of the vacation period was pretty much booked up for some serious nerd interaction as well as the potential for throw-up on an unprecedented scale. Hey thanks, Mom. Not only does getting carsick SUCK, but now I'd have to worry about the other freaks looking at me funny. For a kid about to go into Junior High, that's about as low on the totem pole as you can get.

I figured I could stave off nausea with a daily hit of Dramamine, so I packed some every morning that I could pop before the bus would load up the dorks and ship us out. Well, what I didn't know was that you can build up a tolerance to that stuff just like any other drug. On the way back to L.I. from some forgettable trip to the city, I became aware of my brain turning upside down inside my skull. The Dramamine couldn't withstand the tsunami of shit that was brewing inside my head and stomach. All the other dweebs which I had by now gone way out of my way to not be friendly towards were quietly watching the color drain out of my face as I bit my lip and groaned at regular intervals. My pleas to the bus driver and our "teacher" went unanswered. Fine, you fucking assholes, you'll pay the price. I'm not going to be the one wiping used food off of the bus seats, am I? Predictably, it wasn't long before whatever I ate that day was pouring out of my mouth, very noisily too I might add! Everyone was audibly revolted but I couldn't have cared less. I had warned them all. What was really pissing me off by the time I had expelled everything inside myself was that at the last minute I had tried to hold back the spewage by covering my big mouth with my tiny hand. The result was an hour long bus ride home with one arm covered in semi-solid pink slop. No one had any napkins to wipe it off with and the smell was terrific. Well, at least I made an impression on my classmates, even if it was as a nerd among the nerds.

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