I'm nuts.

I am, to put it mildly, a nervous girl. I have all sorts of anxieties about all sorts of things, and I don’t mind telling you, dear reader, that I’ve had more therapists than long term relationships.

So sad. So pathetic. Me. At least I’m pretty.

Anyway, so one of my anxieties is that I have a fear of vomiting, and specifically vomiting in public.  It’s actually gotten a bit better, because about two years ago I was out for dinner with “The Sisters” (more about them in the future)  and I did indeed vomit in public. Out in the street in front of the restaurant. It was Café California on Church Street, in case you’re wondering. Finding that the world didn’t end when I gave my guts to the gutter, I have since been less freaked out about the possibility of public displays of semi-digested dinner.

That has not always been the case.

One of my very favourite people on earth can attest to my madness. Her name is Bettina and she is more awesome than anything and if I had to choose between having Bettina in my life and having bread products in my life, I would choose Bettina.

Bettina and I lived together for 4 years in the early 1990’s. This is what she looked like then only with more teeth, but otherwise, it’s EXACTLY what she looked like:

Once I was so sick with a violent flu, Vesuvius at both ends, and couldn’t make it out of bed. Bettina changed the towels. That’s right. She changed the towels.

Once I woke Bettina up in the middle of the night because I was feeling a little nauseus and didn’t know what to do.

“Bettina, wake up. I think I ate Tinactin”.

I think she may have laughed after her initial shock of being awoken out of a perfectly deep sleep. But then she calmed me down and said that even if I did eat Tinactin, that I’d probably have to eat a whole lot of it in order to be sick, and not just accidentally lick a tiny film of it from my finger after applying some to my horrific feet. I went back to sleep and I’m sure Bettina stayed up the rest of the night wondering how she’d ended up as a roommate to neurosis personified.

Bettina has written 3 books and is almost finished her 4^th.  Here are links to them.

Blue Becomes You

Watch You Don't Fall

The Tristan Chord

Go buy all of her books and read them. She’ll be happy if you do, but I don’t think she’ll change your towels. I was special.