My friend is suffering the effects of PTMD, and I don't feel a bit sorry for her. We were at my sister's in Indianapolis Saturday to celebrate my birthday. I got my amazon-ordered gifts and started playing with the new toys while the two of them toddled off to see the Bodies exhibit. Despite assurances from Nance in a comment here a while back that I could probably handle it, I decided not to risk it. This resulted in numerous amusing comments about my squeamishness, with my sister providing helpful background information about my getting faint at the sight of my own blood.
Well guess who insisted on having salad and vegetaraian pasta for dinner that nigtht? Guess who still gets queasy thinking about the exhibit? Guess who still can't eat meat? Better get over it, gals. I ain't making bean soup for Thanksgiving.
(* post traumatic meat disorder)