What Do Fashion & Food Poisoning Have in Common?

Thankfully, absolutely nothing.  


Here it was:  2012.  The start of a new year.  I had a nice dinner with friends on New Year's Eve at one of the three fine dining establishments in our town.  A few days later into the new year, I went on a fun trip to the big city with shopping, dining out, and even a massage.  Then into the big, big city for a visit to an art museum and another good restaurant.  


I come home.  I eat some bad leftover holiday ham and the wheels fall off and into the ditch goes my new year.  Notice, I said holiday ham.  Yep.  Note to self: ham from Christmas 2011 should not be eaten in 2012.  In my defense though, the ham was given to me by a friend (and yes she is still my friend) and I froze it before thawing it out and eating it the next year.  This works for wedding cake on your one year anniversary, but not a meat product.  Also, the ham tasted really, really good.  It was cured, salty and coming apart with a fork.    


I am not a child of the depression.  I am not that old.  But I am a child of the axiom of "Finish your food.  Don't you know that there are children in Africa that are starving.".  This is not the first time I have botulised myself.  I have eaten bad macaroni and cheese found in the back of the fridge, put fouled tomatoes into a casserole and unsuspectingly chowed it down, and ordered chocolate cream pie at a restaurant where I saw the pie sitting out on the counter, but did not put two and two together before it was too late. Somehow I have not gotten it into my head that it is okay to waste food if that food is going to turn on you and try to kill you.  Bingo!  My first resolution for 2012.


And you would think that I would never again touch food that has twisted my guts and laid me low for days, but that is not the case.  I have absolutely no aversion to any of the above mentioned items.  Give me a week or two and a ham sandwich on Wonder bread with a generous swath of mayo will sound just fine.


I can not end this post without a grateful shout out to my husband, Scott.  I feel so fortunate that almost fifteen years ago when we said our vows that I did not go with any of the newer make your own kind because the good old traditional "for better or for worse" sure came in handy during this digestive crisis.  I know this is T.M.I., but it is one thing to have diarrhea and it is one thing to be vomiting.  Put the two together when you have no control over either and you feel so weak that you can't hold your head up.  That is when you need a true friend to hold that bowl, keep your fanny positioned on the toilet, and tell you that you will indeed survive this ordeal. Kudos to you sweet hubby.


So, hopefully this bump in the road is behind me.  I can actually get caught up with my new blog and continue posting Outfits of the Day when I am not in the same stinky pajama top and bottom (but they did match and the bottom's were soft and cozy and a great deal from Lucky) for fifty hours straight.