For some reason I had no transportation. I think Dad used the Nitro for an event of some sort. I don't remember. Anyway, poor Melissa had to come all the way up north in traffic. We originally wanted to watch the Last King of Scotland but due to time constraints we ended up just having dinner at Dixie Kitchen. Evanston style. She was impressed with their menu but I thought everything was better at the other one. I know the Hurricanes seemed stronger on the south side. I wasn't feeling too hot and she was tired so she dropped me off and called it a night.
I woke up sick as hell. Usually I can knock the sickness out in a day or two but I guess I'm getting older because I felt like shit all day long. I wanted to try to beat it so I could go to D's Birthday party that night. Of course I couldn't. I just got worse and Melissa ended up going without me. I was really looking forward to it, but at least I'd be okay for the Super Bowl. Right?
We were supposed to get together to watch the game. I was still feeling like hell warmed over. I was worried that since I watched the previous two games at Mullen's that I was supposed to watch the big game there. There was no way in hell I was going anywhere. It sucked. Just like I didn't show up to D's the night before, our defense didn't show up to the game. Manning got his ring, Melissa won her bet, the universe added insult to my injury.
I was still a little sick but Melissa called me to stop by. A transformer, no not the Autobot/Decepticon kind, blew up by her place. There was no electricity and in the interest of safety and precaution I stayed at her place until it came back on.
The usual wing night routine at Mullen's.