You know Juno?

Tonight is "date night" for me and Dan. I arranged for a babysitter so we could go for dinner and movie.

I've been dy*ng to see the movie Juno. It's been getting rave reviews, and not just from critics either. All manner of low and high brow audiences really like this flick for its script, plot and acting.

I've seen just about every trailer for this movie.
I've read a bunch of reviews, too.
And, in an act of impatience, I went to moviespoiler.com and found out the ending.

In my defense, I've been ready to see this movie for two months. Dan and I planned to see it at Christmas vacation in Iowa, but it only plays in select theaters. Apparently they don't deem the corn fed as worthy of its story. Then, I tried to arrange for a babysitter last week, but these youth have lives and, well, can't do sitting on a day's notice.

I arranged for a babysitter for tonight. I've been thinking about it all week. All I want is to have a Turkey sub at Potbelly's followed by some greasy popcorn while watching Juno.

It must be too much to ask, however. It appears that I have developed tonsilitis. That's right... tonsilitis. Do you also have visions of 1950s children sitting in small rows of hospital beds eating ice cream after their tonsil surgery? Doc asked if I get this a lot. I assured him that this was my first occurence; no surgery for me, please.

I did notice, however, that the doctor moved swifty and noticeably to the other side of the room after examining my throat.
Note to self: You are contagious.
He then informed me: "Well, your throat is pretty awful."
Second note to self: Dang!

After being discharged, my first thought was: Can I still see "Juno" tonight? Technically I could still go, but I risked infecting the moviegoers. Strangely, that did not bother my conscious. They'd never know who gave them the ouchy esophagus, I reasoned. But when I thought of our dear, sweet babysitter, I thought better of it. Better cancel.

Currently I am realizing the ridiculousness of my efforts in keeping our date. I keep having hot and cold flashes. I am presently clad in not one but two sweaters, one of which is an authentic Irish cable knit (wicked warm), in an effort to fend off the chills. It's working. Even if I DID feel well, I look every bit the nerd I did in sixth grade, the year that fashion skipped. Dan probably wouldn't want to be seen with me. Heck, I wouldn't want to be seen with me.

I sound like a frog. I look like a flood victim. And I feel like someone took a dremel to my throat. But Dan has still offered me a date night. It will be in bed with lots of flannels, clear fluids to drink and Puffs tissues. I may have a red nose and clear my throat periodically like a machine gun, but it will still be fun.

As for you, Juno... next week?