October 3, 2005
I had one of those rare, fantastic nights out with the galpals on Friday. You know: two birthdays celebrated, wine, cheese-platters-in-lieu-of-actual-dinner, a waiter so hilariously terrible that he should have his own sitcom. Anyway, on the way home I realized something weird had happened to my throat, and I figured I sprained a tonsil after four straight hours of conversation.
Who knows what happened, but it was definitely tonsil based, and knocked my on my keister for the whole weekend with fevers and chills and pasty invalid moments. Too sick to knit, I developed television poisoning. I watched five straight episodes of America’s Next Top Model. I watched Good Will Hunting. I watched the Country Music Television Top 100 Videos of All Time, from #69 to #18. In my delirium on Saturday night I thrashed about in the sheets, worried that somehow Tyra Banks, the host of America’s Next Top Model, was going to take over the Perfect Handknit search and we’d all end up making cropped tank tops and practicing our fierce walks.
I’m on the mend now, and I just wanted you to know that we’ll be back to normal programming shortly.