The Amazing Tale of the Sushi Virgin

Last week I achieved something I never thought possible:
I officially became less picky than my mother-in-law.

Any of you who have heard my tales of her merciless dinnertime harassment will know that this was a major accomplishment! Furthermore, I did it by eating RAW FISH.
That's right peeps - go ahead and put me on that pedastal.

Let's me be clear about something: I HATE FISH. I hate the smell of fish, the look of fish, the feel of fish - the very thought of fish. It gives me chills. I don't even like swimming in lakes for fear that a fish will rub up against me.

But baby, I LOVE SUSHI!

I have my too-cool sister-in-law and her too-cool husband to thank. They invited Brett and I out to dinner to celebrate our new home, which they helped us buy (they're realtors). When they suggested sushi I'm sure they expected some serious picky-girl protests. But, having been been bullied one too many times for my sensitive palate, I opted for indignant bravery.

OF COURSE I WOULD TRY SUSHI. BRING IT ON!

I'm not gonna lie - I was big time scared. I told myself "anything doused in soy sauce and chased by Coke is edible so just suck it up" but this tiny part of me knew that I would take one bite, feel that slimey, squishy fishyness swimming around inside my mouth and not be able to hold back the puke. Still, it would be worth it to defend my "tough chick" rep as the hardcore wife of a skater punk.

I closed my eyes, clutched my Coke, and brought the chopsticks to my lips (that's right, I used the chopsticks. I told you I'm hardcore!). And then there was nothing but lovely, ricey, cream cheesy goodness! I chewed, I swallowed,

AND I ASKED FOR MORE.

Dude, if you have not tried sushi, please take it from a notoriously selective eater -

SUSHI ROCKS!

And if you want someone to hold your hand through it, call me! I'm totally craving it now!