And Pepto Bismol has grossed me out since my friend Isaac chugged it because he was so sick.

In 2005, one of the seven things I said most often was "my tummy hurts."

(ALERT! I just linked to my old blog! The one I wrote when I was in college and emo and stuff. Come back! Save yourselves!)

Slowly, over the last three years, I've said it less and less as I figured out what to eat, and I figured out that fucked up relationships not a happy life make, and that where and who you live with makes all the difference in the world.

(I sure am sentimental today. It happens sometimes. I can't help it. I love sorting through my memories almost as much as I love change although I hardly ever admit the former.)

When I was in college and my tummy hurt, it hurt because it couldn't do it all. It couldn't work all the time and have complicated relationships and try to balance out the flippity-floppity bump-bump bump-bumpity of my heart, and I was feeding it whatever I could find. If I don't eat regularly (which I didn't for about 6 years in there), I get cravings. The kind of cravings that pregnant women like to brag about and not pregnant people like to joke about. What Abigail? You're hungry and all you want is bbq chicken? You won't eat anything else? Are you pregnant, hahaha? It's not funny, actually, because a) I've been hearing it my whole life, and b) what is this? A romantic comedy? Quick, develop twenty-seven plot devices to make sure we all are panicked en route to the hospital and if possible have the father be thousands of miles away, desperate trying to get back. And maybe he could befriend a good samaritan who will give him his seat on the plane... what was I saying? I've seen way too many bad movies.

ANYWAY.

I finally figured out about 10 different meals that I like. And every week I go to Trader Joe's and buy them. And I swear to you, if I do not deviate from this plan, my tummy does not hurt. It's a good thing I have those because things that make my tummy hurt: eating out, anything cooked in butter, too much cake, pork, and juice on an empty stomach.

Then there's all the non-food things. Like finding out people I trusted shouldn't be trusted. Or saying something that was only for one person to hear, and then finding out others heard it. Any story where anyone accidentally hits "reply all" instead of "reply sender." Losing cash. When my phone rings and it's someone I'm not expecting a call from because I immediately think they're mad at me. Tragic news. Getting too cold. Slamming on the brakes. Especially when my friends are in the car. Being late to something important. Steroids for my asthma. Waiting for the call.

Good thing I don't react to complaining. Otherwise I'd be dead.