I bet you didn't know it was possible to eat 27 popsicles in one day

Poor Mr. Blogger had to leave at 5:00AM this morning to go to Whittier for a work function...and I just woke up at 12:30PM. 7 hours later. But he would understand. He was there yesterday when they gave me a shot in the butt. He KNOWS how sick I am.

So yes, I did finally make it to the doctor, and she confirmed the strep I knew I had. But then the mean nurse lady with the needle came in. And OW. Not so much the shot, but the freakin' penicillin...which, did I mention, STINGS. It's not as if the stuff was just invented, oh medical community...can you not fix the issue of it burning like the acid those creatures bled in Alien/Aliens/Alien 3/Alien: Resurrection/AVP: Alien Vs. Predator? Ow ow ow ow.

All of that, however, is nothing compared to the pain of NOT BEING ABLE TO GO TO THE UCLA GAME TODAY. I feel like the time I was told I wouldn't get to go to The Police concert because I had yes, strep throat...and my BFF Kona Girl and I had saved up our money, because we had crushes on them (well she liked Sting, while Stewart Copeland floated my boat) and we were 17 but had NEVER BEEN TO A CONCERT BEFORE. And we had arranged for our parents to drive us and EVERYTHING. (I may have forgotten to mention that we were both very very sheltered, and had very very strict parents.) But then I had to go and ruin it and she didn't want to go without me.

Don't feel too bad for us though, 'cause eventually we did get to go to our first concert together. Yes, it was Rick Springfield, but it turned out the show was being taped for an HBO special and since they had to leave the house lights up for the whole thing, we had a chance to notice that Ricky Schroder (at the height of the Silver Spoons era and definitely NOT "Rick" at that time) was staring at us. He ended up flirting with us the entire time and invited us to a party afterwards. But his sisters laughed at him when he tried to impress us (!!!) by saying he was 13, and they then reminded him he was only 12, so we passed. I mean really, we were mature women who were going off to college in a month.

(Hey KG...WE SHOULD HAVE GONE.)

Anyway, point being, I feel like poo. Taking my game away from me is like cutting off a lifeline. We had planned to go up to LA last night to stay with my aunt and uncle, leaving plenty of time for MB to go to work this morning, then come get me for the game this afternoon. But noooooo. Now it's all work and no play for Mr. Blogger, and I plan to get in a good, long day of pouting.

And you KNOW if they (lose) , I will take full responsibility. Whatever shall they do without me?

I should probably tell MB to tape my moth shut while I watch it on TV though, 'cause the screaming...IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO CONTAIN.