I think maybe seafood doesn’t agree with me anymore.

Let me backtrack a bit. I used to love fried shrimp. Love, I say. You know those Sizzler all-you-can-eat deals? Yeah. I was all over that.

My tastes have become only slightly more sophisticated over the years, and I don’t eat shrimp as often anymore. My last experience with the little batter-dipped sea bugs was a try at some “coconut shrimp,” which I wrote off as being too sickly-sweet to, er, stomach. I blamed my upset tummy on the combination, not on the wee crustaceans themselves.

Last night, though, a group of us trekked out to Red Lobster in Beaverton to celebrate Lil’s birthday. (Among the many, many snarky jokes: “Hardcore Prawn.” Yes, we’re a dorky bunch.) I had the steak-and-shrimp platter. Nice, boring deep-fried shrimp. No problem, right?

Well, not last night, no. This morning was another story entirely. Bleah. I’m most decidedly under the weather today. Queasy as all get-out. (Luckily nothing truly disgusting has come of it. Yet.) The only thing I can guess is that maybe, just maybe, my body doesn’t like shrimp anymore. Hell, maybe it doesn’t like all seafood anymore.

Damn. I guess there’s one more thing off the menu. I’ll have to survive on steaks, pork ribs, pizza, omelettes, potatos, salads… oh, well, I guess it’s not so bad after all, eh?

Mind you, what the hell I’m going to order from McCormack & Schmick’s tomorrow night is anyone’s guess…