Hockey, forever and ever

When the score was 1-0 last night in the Capitals game against Winnipeg, I stated that it was over and the Capitals had won the Southeast Division. The next thing I heard was a snort at my early call of the game, only to have someone eat his snort later in the evening when the score was a 5-3 final. Someone should really learn to have more faith in me, shouldn't he?

And I have an annoyance with some of the professional hockey analysts. I saw a goal breakdown between Steven Stamkos and Alex Ovechkin, with Ovechkin being criticized for most of his goals coming against the Southeast Division, which is apparently filled with pansy teams. (Of course, they fight hard against the pansy designation, but they should all realize now that they're pansies and roll over and play dead. Besides, it isn't like the Southeast has ever produced one Stanley Cup winner, let alone two, right? Oops, forgot about Carolina and Tampa Bay.) Stamkos was praised for the majority of his goals coming against the remainder of the Eastern Conference while, once again, Ovechkin is a pansy goal-scorer.

My curiosity is this: Stamkos and Ovechkin are both in the Southeast Division. If the Southeast Division is such a cakewalk (yeah, try playing Carolina and Tampa six times a year), why doesn't Stamkos have even more goals than he does. After all, if Ovechkin scores 56% (or whatever his percentage is) of his goals against the Southeast, shouldn't Stamkos have a similar, if not higher percentage? Since scoring against the Southeast is such a piece of cake, after all, and Stamkos is far superior to Ovechkin, why is Ovechkin's percentage of Southeast goals higher than Stamkos? I love it how the analysts like to compare apples and oranges and actually occasionally make it sound reasonable to someone who isn't able to think for him or herself.

Okay, 'nuf said. I'm done whining now.

Expiration Dates

Okay, if you know me, you probably know about me and the expiration date. If you don't, then it goes something like this: 90 days, out the door. So if I'm seeing someone, they get 90 days and then I'm bored and they are out the door and it's over. It's worked for me without fail with one exception.

I haven't shared the expiration date with G because, well, I just didn't. By the time I thought maybe I should, I decided that maybe I shouldn't. If you'd seen the reaction to my April Fool's joke on him (not the one from FB, where I told the world that we'd gotten married), you'd understand.

G's 90 days are about up.

I've been fretting about it because I don't want him to have an expiration date. And, yes, I know what that means. If I don't want him to have an expiration date, then he won't have one. Except that lack of an expiration date puts him in that rarified air that currently only contains one resident. And if you know who that resident is, you know how serious this is.

This is truly serious.

And, as an aside, how 'bout them Caps??? I know I'm prolly going to be wearing my jersey tonight while we don't listen to the radio because 1500AM has entirely too much static and they aren't on 106.7 any longer. (Rotten strike, I hate you.)

Amusing anecdote: There's a homeless colony (for lack of a better word) down on Route 1 just before the Burger King that now has a mailbox. I know about this colony because a friend of mine tried to join it because they were homeless and she was homeless, except they ran her off. Right fast. The other day, G showed the location to JTA, telling him it was a homeless colony. JTA declared that it wasn't a homeless colony, but instead some sort of government conspiracy. Before you roll your eyes at that one, you should also know that JTA also calls the jet trails you see behind airplanes "chem trails" because there's a government conspiracy to poison and kill everyone by spewing chemicals out of the engines of those big planes. Yeah, really. No, it isn't always possible to be around him, but I will tell you that it's kind of interesting having your own personal whackadoodle around.

Annoyances

So I've been, essentially, kicked out of Gartlan because I'm not sick enough. Yeah, sure, whatever. It really annoys me sometimes that people don't believe I am mentally ill just because I don't look like I am. Seriously, we look like everyone else until we start talking to walls (and we only talk to the walls because the walls talk to us). For those of us who don't talk to walls, this is really irritating because I cover extremely well so people see what they want to see and don't see the me who might be having a horrible day.

Or because my hospitalizations didn't start until this past August, so I'm not really depressed, right? Wrong. I was having severe panic attacks at the age of six. Go ahead, tell me I didn't learn to cope with the depression until Mark's illness made it so that I couldn't cope any longer.

It is truly off-pissing.

You have to wonder...

I was told a couple months ago that someone wanted to be friends with me until one of us died. And said person hasn't spoken to me, or has barely acknowledged my existence, for the last couple of months. In fact, he has barely spoken to me since the last time I saw him at the end of January. Sometimes I feel as though I shouldn't be nearly as trusting as I am. Gee, I wonder why.

And I had a whackadoodle moment today!!!

It wasn't directed at me personally, but instead affected an entire bus full of people. I got on the bus at my stop, like I usually do. Paid my fare, sat down and hoped we'd be at Ladson Lane before the next bus I  needed to catch (we were, so that's all good). This woman gets up from her seat and pulls the cord to request the next stop. We get there and she says, "oh no, not this one, the next one." Ummm... okay. We get to the next stop and she doesn't get off. She had to be informed a couple of times that this was the last stop before Ladson Lane. The bus driver closes the doors, opens the doors, closes the doors and the woman finally says that she's going to WalMart. Ummm... that's two more stops, not a total of one, or two, but a minimum of four. I wish people would learn to count or at least have a clue where they're going instead of making us stop needlessly at every single stop while they figure it out.

Been a while...

Why, yes, it has been a while...

What can I say, I've been a tad preoccupied with my real life, such as it is.

However, I went to Old Towne with G on Friday and we stopped in at fibre space and it turned into old home week. G was an incredibly good sport about that and I really appreciate it. I was also informed that I have to keep blogging because not blogging makes people worry. So very sorry about that. Really don't make people worry on purpose. It's purely accidental.

And I had a lovely birthday this weekend, brought to me by G himself. I don't know what I'd do without that man.

Even JTA may have redeemed himself by buying me three (yes, three) balls of Rowan Lima in the colorway Chile. Now that is some serious scrumptiousness on my fingers and I adore the braided construction. And it's so much better than the novelty stuff he got me at the thrift store. However, I may have to explain the concept of aging in stash to him because he feels I should have already started knitting with it.

Now I'm off to look up baby sweaters because my wonderful cousin has requested one for her granddaughter's soon-to-be son. Plus I need to finish up my Heart Quilt baby blanket and that is a pain because the instructions aren't quite right. Darned good thing I know how to re-interpret these things, huh?

Have I mentioned that I don't know what I'd do without G? Yeah, because I really don't.