Just say no.

Ok, I LOVE guacamole. But I rarely eat it because avacadoes make my stomach hurt. However, every so often, I choose to ignore this salient fact, because I love the idea of guacamole so much. First of all, it's green. Secondly, it has such a lovely texture. And at Maria's on Fourth Avenue and Union Street, they make the guacamole fresh right there for you. So last night, we went to Maria's because we had been wanting to check the place out and see if the guacamole was really all that fabulous. And yes, it was really good. (The food itself was just ok, but the guac was the show stealer.) So, I of course, I ate so much of the guacamole that I could not finish my dinner (which is not unusual, as I am NOT a member of the clean plate club by any means). I had a Negro Modelo, and the guac was flowing — good times all around.

However, at the end of dinner, I began to feel light headed and nauseated. During the ride home I was curled up in the passenger seat trying to not throw up on my new skirt. When I got home, I spent about 45 minutes curled in a bunny rabbit position on the cool marble bathroom floor, wishing I would just throw up already. I tried to stand up to shower, and just could not make it. And ended up brushing my teeth while laying on the floor, half naked, while Kenny rubbed my back. I crawled into bed at 10:30pm (for me, this is like going to bed while it's still light outside), without showering (!), and promptly fell asleep in a state of distended-stomach-cramping-yuckiness.

So, the next time you hear me even mention the idea of guacamole, tell me no. Slap that green loveliness on a chip out of my hands. But DO NOT under any circumstances let me eat the poisonous apple. Or avacado, in this case. It amazes me how something that brings me such delight and pleasure at the onset, can cause me such suffering once I past the point of no return. But I have to say: it was great while it lasted.

(note that this was posted past dated, since I felt like death last night.)