And that’s how I got the black eye
We had a pretty nice weekend – until the tail end, which I’ll get to in a moment.
Saturday we went to a very fun birthday party where we chatted and ate amazing food and had delicious tropical drinks and probably could have stayed all night (as reported by my husband, who was really enjoying himself) except we had a wedding early on Sunday. We had to be on the road by around noon.
The wedding was beautiful, despite the rain. And despite the humidity everyone looked great (I have looked better, but whatever – my husband looked quite dapper). We had a great time and I caught up with old friends last seen at the ever-famous Italian wedding.
Then I did something that upon further reflection I think sealed my fate.
When the salad came, I remarked to my husband that it tasted like onion vinaigrette. He nodded or something and stopped eating the salad.
I’m not sure when it happened, but I’ve developed an allergy of some type and can’t eat raw onions. If I do – I get very nauseous if I’m lucky. If I’m less lucky, I spend a lot of time purging. (Is that a polite way to say puking my guts up?)
The vinaigrette, I think, appeared again on the salmon I ordered. I scraped a lot of it off – but clearly didn’t remove enough and shortly after we got in the car I got the face that said approximately, “Please take me home immediately so I can spend some quality time throwing up.”
We had an hour+ drive home. I had my keys in hand when we pulled in the driveway and I raced into the house to… unburden myself. As I reached the toilet I pulled up the lid and as I leaned forward the lid came down and smashed into the bridge of my nose. Oh yes – I need to vomit, once I clean up the blood.
Things went downhill from there and now I’m sitting here, still nauseous, having slept little and feeling quite lousy. My nose isn’t broken – I got lucky – and I did spend a lot of time in the bathroom which was less lucky. My nose is sore and I have a small bruise under my right eye just to make things a little extra pleasant.
My poor husband has been up all night trying to take care of me, but giving me lots of space. I’m going to spend some quality time on the couch today with an ice pack on my nose (not much swelling – it just hurts like hell) and sip some ginger ale.
It’s my worst wedding hangover ever. The saddest part, I only had one glass of wine.
We had a pretty nice weekend – until the tail end, which I’ll get to in a moment.
Saturday we went to a very fun birthday party where we chatted and ate amazing food and had delicious tropical drinks and probably could have stayed all night (as reported by my husband, who was really enjoying himself) except we had a wedding early on Sunday. We had to be on the road by around noon.
The wedding was beautiful, despite the rain. And despite the humidity everyone looked great (I have looked better, but whatever – my husband looked quite dapper). We had a great time and I caught up with old friends last seen at the ever-famous Italian wedding.
Then I did something that upon further reflection I think sealed my fate.
When the salad came, I remarked to my husband that it tasted like onion vinaigrette. He nodded or something and stopped eating the salad.
I’m not sure when it happened, but I’ve developed an allergy of some type and can’t eat raw onions. If I do – I get very nauseous if I’m lucky. If I’m less lucky, I spend a lot of time purging. (Is that a polite way to say puking my guts up?)
The vinaigrette, I think, appeared again on the salmon I ordered. I scraped a lot of it off – but clearly didn’t remove enough and shortly after we got in the car I got the face that said approximately, “Please take me home immediately so I can spend some quality time throwing up.”
We had an hour+ drive home. I had my keys in hand when we pulled in the driveway and I raced into the house to… unburden myself. As I reached the toilet I pulled up the lid and as I leaned forward the lid came down and smashed into the bridge of my nose. Oh yes – I need to vomit, once I clean up the blood.
Things went downhill from there and now I’m sitting here, still nauseous, having slept little and feeling quite lousy. My nose isn’t broken – I got lucky – and I did spend a lot of time in the bathroom which was less lucky. My nose is sore and I have a small bruise under my right eye just to make things a little extra pleasant.
My poor husband has been up all night trying to take care of me, but giving me lots of space. I’m going to spend some quality time on the couch today with an ice pack on my nose (not much swelling – it just hurts like hell) and sip some ginger ale.
It’s my worst wedding hangover ever. The saddest part, I only had one glass of wine.
Labels: 2006
2 Comments:
Someday, I'm sure you'll be able to look back and laugh at it... but right now, OUCH! You poor thing!!!
That makes for a hell of a story-- and I'm laughing WITH you, not at you. ;-)
I hope you feel much better soon!
Oh gracious, that is not good. Poor you!
My father once dozed off--drunk or just incredibly sleepy, not sure--and...well, fell off the john, and gave himself a huge black eye when he whomped his face on the laundry hamper. But he went around telling people he'd been in a bar fight instead; feel free to use that as needed!
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