Ick

So, I have a cold. Everytime that I touch a male, God seems to smite me by giving me a miserable cold (or CMV, but I'd much rather have the cold, we don't even want to go back to post-4th of July weekend). It's like men are walking petri dishes, ready to spread infection as quickly as possible. I spent most of the weekend sleeping and chugging orange juice in hopes of getting over this cold as quickly as possible. I HATE orange juice. I slept for about 20 hours Saturday. I didn't know that was possible, but I managed to do it somehow. Nyquil does trippy things to my body. I guess those three nights in a row of partying were not smart on my part. But they were fun. Now, all I am trying to do is get better so that this weekend I can hang out with my friends who are coming to visit.

My weekend was pretty lame (due to the illness and all). I did watch King Arthur, with Clive Owen and Keira Knightley. Man, am I glad I didn't pay 10 bucks to see that in the movie theater. What a crappy movie. First of all, the film is a terrible twist on the whole Arthurian legend. Since I had to read a 300 page book in college on five different hypothesis of who Arthur was and how much of it was legend, this movie didn't even come close. (The Mists of Avalon, the book, soooo much better!) I spent the entire movie trying to figure out what was going on because it was so confusing. And then, Keira Knightley is all crazy and wears weird makeup. She's supposed to be this warrior women. Maybe if she actually ate something and gained about thirty pounds, I might believe that, but as it is, I could kick her ass. Keira, you ain't got nothin' on Xena! The only good thing about the movie was that Clive Owen was the male lead. Oh my, why is he so HOT! I think he might actually replace Orlando Bloom as the love of my life. I know, gasp, but he's just that hot.