I actually never did think it would happen again.
Not since it had been...I don't know, at least twelve years since the last time.
But I guess it's like riding a bike in the sense that as soon as I started feeling it, I knew right what to do.
The unfortunate thing was that my first choice, the toilet, was occupied at the time. But luckily, there was a perfectly acceptable trash can in the corner.
Which is exactly where I headed.
I had been in mid conversation with Brandon, just talking about a friend of his, keeping it casual like we try to do upon first getting up on a two show day. My responses started getting less involved, however, as I started getting really really hot.
I took off the shirt whose only crime was to have sleeves, but at that moment, those sleeves were not an option. Seriously, when I get really hot, I can barely even stand myself. Maybe it's because I just don't sweat, but whatever the reason, undue heat becomes a desperate cause to which I must resort to desperate measures.
Case in point: Once I was taking a modern dance class and made the mistake of wearing a long sleeved leotard. Twenty minutes into the warm-up, I ran out to the front office, grabbed some scissors and proceeded to cut off the sleeves. I went back to class much happier with my new and improved tank leotard.
And I've done the same thing with a pair of jeans, too. I was walking in Philly, it was too hot for pants, and bam! I reemerged from the bathroom with shorts.
Anyway, just so you don't think I was now topless, I had a tank top underneath that long sleeved shirt as I hovered over the trash can. At this point, all vital signs were pointing to throwing up at any second.
Ever since I was a young girl and decided that I absolutely hated to throw up and forced my body to keep all things down, I hadn't done it.
But now those old feelings were returning. My mouth was watering. I was incredibly hot. My stomach felt sick sick sick.
Brandon was still just talking when finally I said, Um, I am gonna have to stop you there because I think I am going to throw up...And with that, the gagging started.
Gross, I know.
I hadn't eaten anything yet so there was no food to eject, but well, something came up.
Aren't you glad you know this?
Brandon ran and got me a glass of water, sweet guy, and if I had long hair I would have asked him to hold my hair just like my mom would do when I was little.
Anyway, moral of the story: don't take a vitamin on an empty stomach.
Who knew that all of my years of training to keep food down no matter what as well as the inner vow I made with myself to never vomit again would be undone by one small multi-vitamin?
And how does everybody else in not only my company, but seemingly civilized society know this handy information? Where was I when that memo was passed out?