Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Fond Goodbyes and Fond Adieus

Adieu, Mike, Adieu

Greetings all.


Up and down today. First, I bid a fond adieu to the Dallas Stars. And I really hate like hell to sound like a whiner and a complainer, but this was once again one of the worst officiated games I ever saw. My husband watched too, and agreed. The Canucks must have had 15 minutes of power play time. It was ridiculous. Even when Dallas got a power play, it lasted 10 or so seconds and then they gave Vancouver one, obliterating the Dallas power play. I don't think I've ever seen so many penalties!


It's beginning to look as if the NHL has decided which teams are sacred cows and ones that don't belong. IF the ones that don't really belong by some divine NHL intervention are playing too good are catching up (Dallas was behind 3 games to 1 and caught up to 3-3, thus creating last night's game 7) AND was winning 1-0 through the 1st and 2nd period, something has to be done. Penalty after penalty after penalty. And most were phantom penalties; meaning ones you couldn't even discern on replay! I mean, they actually gave a guy a penalty for slashing when all he did was hit the BLADE of someone's stick. Huh? New rule on me.


Meanwhile, Luongo, the goalie for Vancouver actually started choking a Dallas Star and GOT NO PENALTY! The night's previous in Game 6, a Canuck leaned over the BENCH and punched an INJURED Star - you got it, NO PENALTY! WTF?!!


Photo of incident with Brendan Morrow, hobbling to the bench on one skate, as ignoramus on Canucks starts, and ends with a punch.Morrow about to be punched
I knew by all this crap, the Stars were gonna lose barring an absolute miracle. I found myself sinking into the couch cushions, knowing this was it. And also fearing this would be the last time I see Mikey Mo in uniform. I have a sneaking feeling he may retire. He had a brilliant shot that clanked so hard off the crossbar it echoed throughout the arena. I almost fell on the floor. Mikey just looked to the heaven's like, why me? When that didn't go in, I started preparing for the end. ALL Vancouver catch up goals were scored on the NUMEROUS ENDLESS power plays, except for a - yawn - empty net goal. I turned it off then. Couldn't bear it again, twice in three days.



So hockey is over for me. Now I don't give a rats bum who wins. Except if it's the Rangers, who are affectionatly called in Islanderland, the Rag$ (dollar sign for sky's the limit). I HATE them, detest them, it's inborn, if you're an Islander fan, who loathe them, and their obnoxious, drunk, violent, ignorant fans.

Strange as this is, I married a Rag$ fan. Go figure. Opposites do really attract, eh?

So buh bye hockey for me till September.
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Goodbyes, and a somewhat adieu

My hair started falling out today. ::sniff:: I was brushing it in the bathroom, getting ready for the hospital, and a handful came out in my hand. I was so shocked, I just stood there looking at it. I called to my husband, 'hair's starting to go'. He said, "I know." I said, "huh?" He said, "it was all over the pillow". So I am a bit distressed, knowing the worst is still to come. But, I did get my wig today. I've decided to change the description from Joan Jett to Pat Benatar. Maybe it's neither, but that's what it looks like to me. They say, whomever THEY are, that when it starts going, it will all be out within 4-5 days, so I'm figurin' I'll be wearing this wig either belting out "I Love Rock & Roll" or "Love Is A Battlefield" by the weekend.


One more hospital visit this week, then to my mom's this Sunday. Good Lord have mercy, that's gonna be a barn burner and a horror show.

More special shout outs.

I know I don't answer emails as often as I should, but big thanks to Amy, Janet, Sharon, Mar and Kathy. I'll answer all, believe me. I am so tired today, insomnia to kill last night. Went to bed, husband is a champion snorer, so I went into the living room, laid down, nothing. Sat up, watched a movie, ended up laying down again at 4:40am, couldnt sleep, last thing I heard was the grandfather clock chiming 5:30am. Mom called at 7am, don't ask. Back to sleep, up at 8am. Bleaaaaah.

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