The post season is here

It's Stanley Cup playoff time, and since my beloved Stars are already on vacation I have to pick other teams to support (temporarily). So here's who I'm rooting for:

     Not-Vancouver
     Not-Pittsburgh
     Not-Detroit, and
     Absolutely-Not-San Jose.

I'd just as soon see the NY Rangers not progress very far, though Brad Richards has been much too gracious (dang it!) to root against. And I'm torn about wanting Not-Boston to win, since Boston did bring Marty Turco on board at the end of the season and he is still my boy. Speaking of Marty, I'd love for Chicago (who didn't re-sign him this year) to bite it early, and since they're playing Phoenix in the first round, and Phoenix (and nice guy former Stars coach Dave Tippett) happens to be the only team I'm actually supporting directly, that's the win-win I'm hoping for.

Yeah, it gets complicated.

Pass me that hanky

The last few days have been a little odd. For no reason I can see, I've been really emotional. Teary, weepy, start-sniffling-without-warning emotional.

I'm not sure what the reason is. This emotional roller coaster has seemed downright hormonal but, frankly, it's been a few years since I had to worry about that. There must be some explanation, though I can't figure out what it is, for why my mascara doesn't make it through the day.

I got all weepy (several times) thinking about the Dallas Stars and the fact that they didn't make the playoffs again. Actually, that's not correct—I'm disappointed about the playoffs, but that's not what makes me so sad. It's the terrible feeling the full season tickets holders were left with after the last game of the season, Saturday night. We couldn't celebrate success because there wasn't any. We should have been enjoying watching our favorites players one last time, but the Stars sat out a bunch of the guys we know and love, several of whom probably won't be playing in Stars uniforms next season. Instead, we got to watch a few "NHL debuts," and let me just say I couldn't have cared less.

Plus that game was Fan Appreciation Day, celebrating all the fans…except us.

All season long we were there, approximately seven thousand of us, for every freakin' game, good or bad. We showed up, filed in, spent money on concessions, filled our seats and cheered. Every game. And during the dark days when we were the only ones showing up, they told us, over and over, "Bring your friends! Let's fill the place up!" Yes, we knew we weren't enough. Yes, we knew they wanted to fill the arena. We wanted to fill the arena. And when attendance started booming, we were thrilled—no more cheering in a vacuum. No more staring across the ice at banks of empty seats.

But the fact is that when attendance was down, the number it was down to was us. We were still there, no matter what. Maybe what the Stars meant to say was, "Thanks for coming, for being serious, hard-core fans we can always count on to show up. Thanks for supporting us through thick and thin." Yeah, maybe. But that last game left us with a bad feeling. (For the record, section 310 STHs just shrugged—well, that's over—and left quietly.)

I also had a mammogram yesterday. My breast cancer, in 2005, was discovered in a routine mammogram, just like that one. I've told the cancer story elsewhere, so I won't go through it again, but the fact is that I never think these mammograms are going to be a big deal. I sincerely don't think it's going to bother me. But I get there and it really, really does. Somehow just being in the quiet room with the machine, sitting and waiting, brings it all back. I was sniffly and intermittently teary while the technician was having the radiologist look at my images. After she came back, said nothing had changed (that's good news) and escorted me back to the changing room, I just sat and boohooed for a few minutes, trying to get myself under control. Then I texted Rich, telling him this was the last one I'm doing by myself. (First-class husband that he is, he just replied to let him know when the appointments are. He's a sport, that man of mine.)

And, last but not least, my mother-in-law in Denver has been sick. Weird sick. Slurring her speech, acting strange, sounding for all the world (from the info we're getting over the phone) like she's had a stroke, but then not having signs of it on the MRIs they keep doing. And she resists seeing a doctor at all, much less going to the emergency room. We have to wait for texts from Rich's brother (FIL gets pissed if the brother calls us, because "it's nothing to worry about, she's fine") to see what's going on, just waiting and hoping for the best.

I thought after both my parents were gone that I was done with this particular torment. After all, I love my in-laws but they're not my parents. But no. I worry just as much, but have considerably less influence. (Even though my MIL loves me, she only tolerates so much butting into her business.) So thinking about that triggers the waterworks, too.

Maybe it's something seasonal. Springtime. The pollen count. Or, I don't know, another lingering side effect of those steroids I took a few weeks ago. In any case, it can't last forever, right?

Please?

Tweets

Last thing on Sunday night I thought I'd share some of my favorite tweets. I thought these were especially funny or at least entertaining. Plus one link at the very end to a remarkable and very cool video clip.


@SportsSturm (Bob Sturm):

• And now with more insight on the Tebow trade let's bring in our NFL insider, Pat Robertson. Pat?
• I get home and my wife is watching the Bachelor. No dude in the history of the universe needs a cross checking quite like him.

@joshgroban:

• When I die instead of burial or cremation I wanna be chopped with avocado, is that unhealthy?
• Last nights solar flare changed the key of my dial tone, turned my electric toothbrush timer to "infinity" and set me up a hotmail account

@Alyssa_Milano:

• ~GROUPHUG~ Get in. The whole damn lot of you.
• Just pulled the mommy-move of peeing while holding the sleeping baby. You can file this tweet under "T" for "talent" & "TMI".

@alydenisof (Alyson Hannigan):

• If I had invisibility as a super power I think I'd use it to sneak bites of people's food at restaurants.

@QuiltingMuriel (Muriel B, 92 yrs old):

• NY temp is 20 degrees, then 60, then snow, then 60. Mother Nature is finally going through menopause.
• I made a Trump joke and lost 10 followers. I can only assume they have very bad hair.
• Remember 2 turn back your clocks tonight. I'm going to try for 30 yrs. :)
• Yes, and I'm sorry I ate the peppers. It's all moot. RT @TomDahn Ron Paul: I Would Not Have Ordered Bin Laden Raid
• I don't like the term "ripe" old age. Sounds like I'm getting soft and too mushy. Oh, wait...
• Time is precious. I'm at the point now if a young salesgirl is on her phone & ignores me, I just start putting items in my purse.

@michaelmuhney:

• My daughter tells me 10 times a day, "I love you Daddy." About twice a day she says, "Daddy, I farted on you." #prettyGOODratio

@OldSpice:

• Should we form our own political party? Key platforms: chicken-fried lobster 4 all, dinosaurs in the military & more explosion-related jobs.

@alyankovic:

• While I think it’s unlikely that we’re the only forms of life in the universe, I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones that deep-fry Twinkies.

@juliebenz:

• I have a window seat...ugh! I will be the one giving climb-over lap dances today.

@TheTweetofGod:

• I believe meat is murder. And that vegetables are burglary, bread is mail fraud and dairy is impersonating a police officer.

@katesmithlaw (Kate Smith, a friend and local attorney):

• So, it is now legal to carry a concealed handgun into a bar in Ohio. No one order shots!

@gublernation (Matthew Gray Gubler):

•  How funny would it be if the statue of liberty was really just the slowest Trojan horse ever.

@wfaaweather (Pete Delkus, last August):

• i'm trying to figure out the forecast for tomorrow. i'm thinking about going with HOT. i hope it's accurate.

@GarretDillahunt:

• Finding myself strangely attracted to @missmoronmagnet....wait.

@Razor5Hole (Daryl Reaugh):

• This is awesome - “@wyshynski: New Puck Daddy: Video: Watch 25,003 stuffed animals fly in a hockey rink http://yhoo.it/scTw8x”

Let's call this a cheerful start to a good week, 'kay?

Don't you wish you were eating with us tonight?

After two weeks of only minimal cooking (and sometimes less than that), I'm finally feeling like I'm rejoining the living. and we're having a leftover cleanup night. I'm about to:

• Try to reduce the chicken pasta red sauce that was way too thin
• Throw together some rice patties (my first ever) from the leftovers of last night's Chinese takeout
• Heat up the glazed ham steaks.

Should be interesting, though probably more so in the abstract than on the plate.

I'll let you know. Unless I decide I just can't talk about it.

I don't mean to be so boring

Sorry for the long periods of dreary dullness, but the fuzzy parts of my mind that are conscious are pretty much absorbed with thoughts of inhalers and pills and cough syrups and nasal sprays, and their corresponding schedules. Seriously, I don't know why what should have been a plain old cold has wiped me out so completely, but it has. Either that or I was silently struck stupid and limp sometime last week and just haven't realized it yet.

Today I have two main goals. Well, three. First, to sort the giant pile of dirty clothes piling up in the hamper before there's an avalanche in the bathroom. Second, to arrange a meeting later in the week with a couple of people I'm hoping will take on the Logistics Committee for the Southlake Chamber Oktoberfest*, thereby removing it from my plate.

The third is to get to the end of the day feeling healthy enough to go to the Stars game tonight. Stop thinking that. Stop it! It's not what you think. It's not just that I can't stand to miss a game. I had decided last night I would tell Rich I didn't want to go, and find someone to use our tickets, when I saw that tonight is Kari Lehtonen Bobblehead Night. We have to go. I've mentioned the bobbleheads before. The only way to get them is to go through the doors at American Airlines Center before game time and show the people just inside your ticket. They mark through the barcode and hand you a bobblehead. That's the only way! And we have all the others! If we don't get this one, our set won't be complete! We have no choice, I tell you!

Okay, so we do have a choice, but I really want that bobblehead, so we'll be going.

One set of our bobbleheads are still boxed up, waiting for a place to live (when Rich has a real office set up, I guess). The other set resides on one of the high Elfa shelves above my computer. I'll post a picture when the set is complete. It's pretty cool, if you're kind of a rabid Dallas Stars fan.

I hope this rainy Tuesday is going well for those of you who aren't insane. Please…wish me luck anyway.



*I did Logistics last year. I'm co-chairing the event this year and, yes, it was stupid to agree to that. I had good reasons, I'm sure I did, but they seem faded and far away right now. I'm getting pretty desperate to get all the committee chair positions filled, and I'm afraid people are going to start ducking my phone calls. (They shouldn't; I'm promising them some pretty good stuff….)

I'b sick

I woke up in the wee hours Sunday morning with a scratchy throat and cough. I couldn't go back to sleep, and since then haven't really done much more than doze off before my coughing wakes me up. (This situation is about to improve, however. I got a prescription for the Magic Elixir of Life, Sleep and Everything, aka cough medicine with codeine. Better living through chemistry. Piña Colada-flavored chemistry.)

Anyway…since I can't really think of anything to blog about except how congested I am, the best I'm going to be able to do is a bunch of little snippets. Tidbits. Okay, a file of notes about things I could have possibly blogged about someday, if I had really put my mind to it. But my mind seems to be preoccupied with…let's call it mucus.

So here are a bunch of unrelated snippet-paragraph-bits. Then I'm going back to bed.

• Whenever I cough or sneeze, Izzy, our Siamese mix, chitters in response. We used to have a cat who'd meow once whenever anybody sneezed, as if she were saying, "Bless you," but Izzy just seems annoyed by the noise. If I do it too many times, she gets up and leaves the room, chittering to herself.

• Meaningful, inspirational quotes are only good in short doses, then they start to cloy. Going through a file of quotations I've collected myself, I realized that if you read too many of them they just sound corny.

• Things I hate: Droopy socks. Dark or black backgrounds on websites. Bad grammar—not the really esoteric, nobody-really-knows-the-rule kind of things, but the obvious things that everybody who made it out of elementary school ought to know. "You should have went with us." Wrong. "Al don't care." Wrong. Any sentence involving the word "ain't." Wrong and very annoying, too.

• Things I'm grateful for: My friend, Jason, of First National Bank Town Square. He suggested an alternative to a depressing financial situation we were facing a few months ago, and I owe him big time (figuratively). He handed me an option that's going to so improve the quality of my life! They're great people over there, so if you're in the Southlake area, really, give them a try. My friend Jean, of Keener Financial Planning, who just retweeted, forwarded and posted on Facebook to help out a business colleague launching a new career. I have to say, both personally and professionally, she's worth getting to know, on so many levels. If you're ever thinking of working with a financial planner, absolutely give her a call!

• Don't feed a cat mushrooms. Mind you, I'm basing this on one elderly cat with many digestive problems, but I don't think feline digestion and mushrooms are quite compatible. This elderly cat would eat them, eagerly, but half an hour later they'd reappear, absolutely unchanged. That can't be good.

• I don't know how unusual this is, but neither Rich nor I have a "side of the bed." Of course, we don't switch back and forth at home; we each have our own pillows, nightstands, books, etc. But when we travel, we're content to sleep on whichever side we end up on (usually determined by who puts their stuff down first). We even switched sides between our old house in S.A. and our house here.

• I do, however, have a "side of the booth" in a restaurant. My right hand has to be to the outside, and I could not explain why if my life depended on it. It just does, and I'm actually a little uncomfortable if I have to sit on the other side. (Compulsion much?)

• One little tiny NHL note in an otherwise hockey-free post: Anaheim Ducks goalie Jonas Hiller's helmet really and truly looks like it's covered in satin. Fancy! 

• I was forced to admit some years ago that burp humor makes me laugh. I laugh against my will, but I still laugh. Hard. And I'm so not proud of it. Tim Allen does a routine that leaves me with tears running down my face. Please don't tell anyone.

Thank you for your patience and understanding. I'll get back to you when I'm feeling human again.

Great googly moogly!

My friend Joe keeps saying that I need to go to work for the Dallas Stars. I keep telling him that they already have a lot of knowledgeable people doing a lot of different things, and I'm really not sure there's really a place in the organization for me. I mean, there's nothing I know more about than the people already there.

But I might be wrong.

http://bit.ly/zFgp3Y
http://bit.ly/zhGwFu
http://bit.ly/y2f89U
http://bit.ly/z74Ncq
http://bit.ly/wG3Gze

Oy.