Me and my Dracula

I haven't done much today, because I haven't been awake much either. And during the sparse moments that I've been awake, it's only been bathroom trips. Had a hell of a night and a morning. Thanks to the Italian chef at Valletta Waterfront who decided that my no onions, no garlic serious request was something to take so frivolously. Prosit. I've a good mind to sue him. But I have no proof now seeing that it's all gone straight into the sewage (ok that's a bad thought). I should have trusted my instincts though, the smell was funny, for me, a smell I had never smelt before... the onions. My body, as big as it might be is shit scared of the onion word, and even more shit terrified of the garlic word. And those are just words, which, believe me or not are hard to type. I think I do not have limited vocabulary, but I steer clear from those two simple words. I cannot bear to look at a picture of them. And I drive straight past greengrocers because I know they will have the ill-fated two things. Why, I know not. My allergy to these two horrible things, which aren't even nice to look at, stems from an extremely early age. I can safely say that I am allergic to onions, they make me sick, give me stomach pains, make me throw up for at least 24 hours. As for garlic.. I'd be at Mater Dei in no time at all, and I wouldn't even have to wait in Casualty because I'd be top priority. I could die from that. I have been mocked a lot about this, but the result remains, I could really die from garlic. I really could be a true vampire. And please I have heard so many sermons that garlic is good for the human health, and that food without onions or garlic tastes bland. But I still could die. I have had top chefs coming out of Michelin kitchens throwing their hands up in despair because of my no onion, no garlic request. Chefs have told me the food won't be good. And I have reassured them that I take the risk. And the food has tasted brilliantly, without the dreaded things. If I want to eat a fish than I want to taste the fish not something else. I have had friends stare and ask if I actually like my onion/garlic-free diet. Which is so silly. Do I look as if I am starving to death? Surely not. I like food, it is something I cannot deny, but if everything came in onion and garlic then I would be really starving to death. People always ask whether my twin is the same, and as life has had it, making a joke out of twins who look like strangers, no, of course not, my beloved twin actually loves the onions, and loves the garlic. But then we don't even have the same blood type. I remember I was 4 years old and someone tried to trick me into eating my food. I told them I didn't like the look of this... and that was both garlic and onion. But the person deceiving me was supposed to be a trusted person so I ate them... and went straight into shock, and into hospital. I didn't even know what they were, and I didn't even know it was a family thing. My dad is the same, so are his brothers, as was my dear old late grandfather. My dad will be very sick, his brothers will be very sick if there is so much as a trace of the dreaded things. But I take straight after my nannu, he too would be hospitalised, just like me. I have never fully understood the deal, but there is something in my blood which will not take garlic. And while onions will make me very sick, I will survive. Not with garlic. Such a tiny ugly thing could be my death. What would my obituary look like? CHETCUTI - ANNMARIE passed away unpeacefully because of garlic septicemia. That is embarrassing. But so true. And as I still feel the stomach pains, I'm getting terribly angry. Because I paid good money (extremely good money) for something which made me ill. When I specifically voiced my wished very clearly and explained what could happen. I have to explain each time to avoid the classic smirks of waitressing. This hasn't been the first idea of a waiter's or a chef's joke. But I usually see it instantly and send the food back and make one terrible mess and make them sorry they were ever born. The last time it happened was a year and a week ago. Yes I can remember the exact date it happened. And I created a big big shitty mess. Why should a Michelin chef get away with it? Had he gone further and put just a pinch of garlic power in to the joke, I would be in Mater Dei. I know about Michelin chefs and stars. It will probably mean taking off at least one star off his smug Italian face. I think I will go again, and give them a piece of my mine, and nobody is talking me into the Italian language misunderstanding. I understand perfect Italian, I speak perfect Italian and I write perfect Italian. I know all about aglio and cipolle. I owe it to myself. I have never met anybody with an allergy like mine in life, save my family, but there must be others out there. And I owe it to myself and to them. Fuck the Michelin gab, fuck the Michelin stars. I just hope they will not think that it is some ploy to get my money back because it really isn't. I have spent a horrible day and will try to drag myself in to work tomorrow feeling really fragile. I know it's hard to envisage it because I'm so big and these horrible things are so small. But after all, I am not Dracula's daughter for nothing.