I know I mentioned that I rarely puke..which is why it is so shocking to my system when I do. But the thing that bugs me the most is the aversion to what ever food came up that follows and seems to last for ages.
When I was 11, a family friend we were visiting over Christmas in Washington D.C. bought these light, fluffy cinnamon / sugar/ crumb donuts. I over-indulged and to this day will only eat a Cinnamon sugar donut if it is the last in the box and I'm starving with no other options.
Around age 13, I biked over to the Dog N Suds in McComb one day that my mom and stepfather had to work late. I think it was the first time I ever ate in a restaurant by myself. I got my favorite: a hot dog. When it came, the dog was wrinkled and weird. I remember thinking something was wrong with it. I ate it anyway. It was years before I could eat a hot dog again.
I remember around age 18, being on an overnight church trip in the woods. All they fed us was hot dogs! I nibbled and swallowed and was so grossed out. I shoved the dog out of my bun and ate just the bread. I was in my twenties and living in California before someone taught me what wonderful hot dogs they have a Costco before I became a fan again. About a dozen years to get over that one!
New Year's Day of my 19th year, Mom had plans with friends and left me sitting at the large bar that separated our huge den and kitchen, gabbing on the phone with my childhood best friend Della. Della and I could have marathon conversations even after spending and entire weekend together! As Mom left, she placed a soup bowl full of her amazing toasted spiced pecans in front of me. Della and I talked for three hours and I ate and ate. The whole bowl was gone when I got off the phone. Too rich. Too spicy. And to this day, I never eat more than what I can pinch with my thumb and first two fingers. They're so delicious, it kills me to show such restraint. And it offends my mother.
And now, 26 years after that episode, I had to get sick on the most benign staple of my winter existence: chicken soup. I LOVE CHICKEN SOUP! I had bought a case of it at Costco the day before!!! That's how much I love it. I need a case to get me through winter!
But my aversion extends well past soup. I eat chicken most of the time. I live near an El Pollo Loco - a wonderful grilled chicken place with tasty, healthy and inexpensive choices. And there are three local places that also make incredible grilled chicken that I visit regularly.
And Costco has sumptuous roasted whole chickens for under five bucks. I stood in front of such a chicken counter last week and they were crating up the freshly roasted birds and people were queuing up, waiting. I gave myself a little pep talk: You love the roasted chicken. You can eat for days off the chicken and Mabel loves it. You can freeze some in little baggies for lunch. You love this. It's succulent and delicious. Just smell that....
As I was having the conversation with my head, my body turned the cart and was walking away before I even finished!
This CANNOT last for a decade. I know in my head, I had the stomach flu that so many here have had. It's no coincidence that the friend I saw Milk with got it the next day. We were both so busy, we didn't have dinner together, meeting at the movie theatre at 8.
So I keep trying to rationalize and be an adult about all of this. But, in the meantime, I think I'm gonna drop off that case of soup at a food bank.