This is why we fight...

If you didn’t already know The NHL Stanley Cup Finals are under way. We are two games in and so far this series has delivered on its expectations, with both games requiring extra periods to determine a winner  (2 ½  in game 1 and 1 in game 2). In addition to the drama of sudden death overtime the series is tied, with Chicago taking game 1 and the Bruins making the Blackhawks remember what adversity is like in game 2. 




Because It's The Cup

This Cup Final is special for more than one reason; not the least of which is the fact that it’s being played by two Original Six teams, the Western Conference Chicago Blackhawks and the Eastern Conference Boston Bruins. The last time two Original Six teams faced off for Lord Stanley’s Cup was 34 years ago in 1979. Hockey fans love to make a big deal over Original Six matchups, especially if our team is involved, so the nostalgia aspect of this series is cranked way up.  Also of interest is the fact that the Blackhawks finished the season with the best record in the league, winning 36 out of 48 games.  Alternatively, Bruins owner Jeremy Jacobs, who was a driving force behind the lockout that robbed us of 34 regular season games, stands an annoyingly good chance of winning his second championship in 2 years. Each of the teams are recent Cup Champions with Boston claiming the title in 2011 and Chicago, one year prior.

Hey Mr. Marl-Bo-ro Man...

When my dear departed friend Barbara quit smoking several years ago she used to say to me sometimes, "I want a cigarette so bad I could rip the lips off a kitten", and I'd laugh at her because WTF? That's crazy talk Barbara! Think of your own cats ma'am! LOL But seriously, it was especially funny because Barbara was a total animal lover and all around wonderful person who would never harm another living thing, and there she'd go talking about disfiguring a baby cat for want of nicotine. Addiction is hell.



Just to give you a little backstory here, I've been prone to bronchitis for a while now and generally come down with it a least once a year. Over the last couple of years however, it's become more frequent and for a while I was afraid I might have some sort of autoimmune lung issue. I might also be a legitimate hypochondriac too, but that's another story.

He's a cold hearted snake! Not Really.

So if you didn't know, I'm fascinated with reptiles; snakes, iguanas, lizards, whatever. I've loved lizards, Carolina Anoles in particular, since I was a child. They are adorable and bright green and my older brother and I would catch them in the summers and put them in jars with grass and punch holes in the lids, for proper ventilation. We would never really keep them though. They were much too fun to contain. I loved holding them, however briefly, as they are very quick and not so much for being handled. I loved the feel of their little feet sticking to my skin and how they felt cool to the touch and rough and squishy and delicate all at once. Did I mention they are bright green and cute as hell? I mean look at that face. How could you resist it?





Kiss my face! No? Well, you'll be back.

Well, I never could. I guess it's probably due in part to my love for these little guys (and dinosaurs! We can't forget the dinos!) that I've always been interested in reptiles. As such, it was no surprise that while I was on my way out of the PETCO yesterday, Fresh Step Extreme cat litter in my basket, my new phone resting obviously at the mouth of my purse, that I was captivated by a terrarium full of baby bearded dragons. Hold UP! Did someone say Dragons? 

Three hundred seventy-nine miles...



I'm obsessed with his song writing and flaming red hair.

We never ever even tried
We never even talked
We never even thought in the long run...

The other day in a moment of enamoured amusement I wanted nothing more than to talk to you about just how infatuated I've become with someone and how funny I found something he had said to me. You were the first person who came to my mind when I thought I wanted to share what I was feeling.  It's almost always that way. When something good happens to me, or when it's something bad, often what I want the most is to be able to share it with you. I don't know how to stop that. I don't suppose it really matters though, because it's not like I'll ever share anything with you again. You're gone, forever.  It sounds so pitiable if silly to say that, but it's accurate.

We're all "How's It Going To  Be" and "Losing A Whole Year" now, even though it was much more than a year and much more than I even had to be able to lose. I lost so much. Whether or not it was good that I lost it is irrelevant because it still hurts like hell when I try to go to a place inside that we shared, only to find it hollowed out and cold. Maybe I should just be thankful that it doesn't burn me any more. I used to fight going there, but I gave that up long ago. I like to think that's because I've learned to pick my battles and have come to understand that when it's something that's part of me, fighting it only makes it worse. Now I just try to ride the storms.

I don't know why I can't go even one day without thinking of you, but I would love to, more than maybe anything else in this world. This doesn't mean that the thoughts are bad though. In fact they're quite often the most mundane and unremarkable of thoughts, and sometimes they even manage to fill me with the tiniest of lights. That is, until the realization comes back that they're pointless and ultimately unwelcome.

The pointlessness of it, I believe, is what causes me the most distress. I feel helpless, powerless to stop what's happening to me all over again, and for me there's no worse feeling in the world. I think you know why that is; and the idea that you know so much about me, what made me, because I let you, spins my head in circles until I feel like I'm back on the brandy. But that was back when I was what you became, and you were my liberation.

Maybe you're in love now or married, with children or maybe you're like me, cut adrift, but floating on the wind of  an innocent fascination. Who's to say? I'll never ask. Now everything might be different about how I feel about you, but nothing is different about why. Your heart in my head and my head in your heart, well that was a dangerous entanglement, and you came to dwell in my soul. I think you still do. I'm afraid you always will. Maybe I will make that peace one day, but for now it remains a thistle.

Whenever it was painful
Whenever I was away I'd miss you
And I miss you...

 

Irony. You're doing it wrong.

It's funny because it's true.

Earlier today I came across this picture in my news feed captioned simply as "cool".  Feel free to facepalm at any time. I didn't bother to engage the person who shared it over her skewed perception, not because it's not my place (because let's be honest, that doesn't matter to me), but because this person is an adult. She's also a parent. This means that she's raising children. Marinate in that for a moment. Someone who is too thick to realize that this image is a direct mockery of all her "if you don't support our troops" bullshit propaganda spewing is the primary influence on another human being's thought process. Even if I were able to make her understand exactly what the intent of this image is, she would simply misunderstand why someone would make such a statement.