I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion my ten year long streak of being puke-free.

As odd as it sounds- I’m pretty proud of that streak. Sort of like Jerry Seinfeld was- until he ate the black and white cookie and erased ten years in a mere matter of minutes.

“My stomach is a freaking tank!” I tell people.

Some people are proud of their marathons or coin collections? Yeah- I’m proud of my amazing ability to keep my crap together when everyone else is on the floor.

Unfortunately, however, yesterday- 8 November 2008 my freakishly long puke-free streak came to a screeching halt.

Not once.

Not twice.

Maybe not even three or four times…

The streak has ended and my stomach is no longer made of iron.

It’s a sad, sad day in the B-Love house.

I feel as though this post ought to be full of hilarious vomit references embedded in each sentence, but I’m not feeling very creative. I think I flushed some of my pithiness down the toilet last night (amongst all sorts of other interesting things- way cooler and more colorful than pithiness).

So- here’s to day one on the long road to 2018.

Chances are history won’t repeat itself and I’ll find myself eating bad fish or chicken and hugging the toilet by 2010- but hey- a girl has to have goals right?