They say if you could predict how you would die, you would be better off; well, I object to that thesis. Every symptom I had when i was sick was forecasted (quite accurately, might I add) by Erika, in phrases like,

“You know that wave of dizziness you keep getting? It gets worse in about 45 minutes.”

and,

“here’s some aleve; trust me, you’ll be asking for it soon.”

and my personal favourite,

“Prepare to be nauseous.”

But all in all, it was really nice having a fellow “sick buddy” to endure through the pangs of fever and chills with. After spending the morning semi-conscious on the couch, watching Condoleezza Rice’s testimony, we decided that we needed a distraction from our pain. So we straggled, in our pajamas and with Kleenex, ricola, pieces of plain bread and a blanket to tote, to the Court House theatres to watch what every sick female in this nation wants to watch, a nice romantic comedy: The Prince and Me.

How can they name a movie with such a clear grammatical error??