Irrational Fear of OH MY GOD IT'S ALIVE AND IT'S CRAWLING DOWN MY THROAT

This past week I have made some huge breakthroughs regarding my irrational fear of sushi. On Saturday I hesitantly nibbled a single shrimp-based maki roll and became so enthused with the heretofore rejected food that I inhaled a slightly-more-adventurous variety of maki last night.

It's always been a secret shame of mine that I didn't eat sushi. I'm always the one in the group saying "Of course we'll have the chicken feet: they're delicious!" and "I'd like my steak rare, please. Or blue, if possible. Or, better yet, still fighting for life." Not eating sushi did not fit my image of intrepid diner.

My father's entire family is allergic to seafood. Tuna? No. Shrimp? Definitely not. Seaweed? Let's not risk it. And because my parents liked me breathing on a regular basis, they never let me eat seafood. Fast forward to a semi-autonomous P&G trying some tuna: one bite and I turn bright red. Okay then!

Even after it became obvious (through an ever exciting period of trial and error!) that my allergy had become very, very mild once I entered adulthood, I avoided seafood of all types. Part of the reason was that I had never developed a taste for it; from my perspective, it all tasted fishy. Ew.

But then I was diagnosed as being allergic to gluten, which depressingly encompasses wheat, oats, and barley. That's it!, I declared. I can cope with only one crippling food allergy at a time! I shall learn to like seafood!

I eased my way in: scallops and shrimp and salmon and the like. Maybe a little tuna with mayonaise. But always I avoided the raw stuff, because that always smelled the fishiest to me.

I finally broke down on a date I went on last year. He looooved sushi, and I was in that adventurous first-couple-dates mood, so I said, hey, I want to try, why don't you order for me.

Mistake.

In retrospect, I think the fish was...lacking in essential freshness. At the time I was completely horrified by the amount of fishy-smelling raw fish I was expected to choke down. And these California rolls? God, why do people like these so much? Nasty!

Obviously I subsequently rejected all proposals of sushi, at least until this past weekend. Maybe it was because we had just come from seeing some experimental theater, but I was in an adventurous mood. Instead of ordering multiple fish-free appetizers, I went for it. And I am ecstatic that I did, because damn, now I get what the fuss is all about. So good! Such wonderful balance of flavor! So much fun to eat! I am so there!

Now it's time to start covering up my embarrassing sushi ignorance. Sashimi, maki, what? What does this mean? ...oh, eel? Is that any good?

I have hopes for rapid re-education, after which I can finally assume the title of Completely Stereotypical Yuppy. In the meantime, shhh, don't tell; I'm faking it quite well.