young dumb don't see a problem

one of the classic stories of my childhood is the time that my parents took us over to a house party. i, a wannabe foodie even at the tender age of 4, helped myself to several shrimp from a platter and promptly vomited all over the place.

i'm such a joy to bring to parties.

anyhoo, fastforward to wednesday night. a new friend is a former sushi chef and wanted to come over and cook a salmon tasting menu for the architect and i. one of the appetizers was chopped salmon tartare stuffed in a mushroom and topped with a jumbo shrimp. i ate one because i was trying to be polite - if you have gone out with me or cooked for me, you know that i rarely eat seafood or shellfish or anything (firm believer in the fact that just because it lives underwater doesn't mean it's not a bug). hop skip and jump again to 4am at which time i awoke, with a burning pain in my belly. i promptly started to yak and continued to do so until 8am, at which point the architect took me to the hospital (the er at scripps-mercy has a lovely clean ladies room, by the way, but those in the bowl air fresheners are murder on the lungs when you have your head stuck in there. i can *still* smell fake flower grandma perfume, i swear.)

a bunch of tests later, they put me on an IV of saline, supplemented with a shot of anti-nauseant and dilaudid and sent me on my way. yay narcotics!