they lost

the bastards. my first B’s game in forever and a year, and they had to lose. in the shoot-out no less.

god damn it.

I don’t even want to talk about it anymore.

also: fuck gordon. fuck him and his fucking 25-year-old prickness. If I could just knock him over the head with a baseball bat, I’d be happy.

and fuck the disgusting girls who sat in front of me and asked me to STOP CHEERING during the game, because apparently my enthusiasm for the hockey game was disrupting their gorging. Like it was fun for me to watch them as they shoveled their fat faces with every kind of disgusting greasy nasty food the garden offered. no joke, in the course of 2 hours I saw them each eat two giant pieces of pizza loaded with 300 kinds of meat, hot dogs, french fries, chicken fingers, pretzels AND soda. bet it was diet soda, too. god they pissed me off.

also, fuck the train.

and fuck the assholes who throw their trash anywhere they please.

you know, just fuck everyone. yeah. fuck everyone.

except for you. yes, you, over there. you, I like. you I want to actually fuck. in the sexual connotation of the word. whereas the previous “fucks” were used in the “I hate you and I wish you were dead” kind of way.


Live From The Field

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We’re far from the ice, although not as far as this picture makes it seem, but my first B’s game of the year is fun, I’ve got my beer and my boys and I’m a happy gal. Bruins up 1-0 right now against ottawa. p.s. these refs suck.



How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I am trying to change the way I blink. My blink is so boring. No one cares about my eye blink.

On the train I watch people blink. Some blink really fast, all the time, constantly. How can you even see, always blinking like that? They are hiding something, these blinkers. Maybe they’re all on drugs.

Other people hardly ever blink, and I stare at them like crazy, wondering how their dry withered eyeballs don’t just plop out of their head, and I blink twice as much, as if my own eye juices will somehow help them. A lot of women seem to be non-blinkers. I don’t know why.

Other people blink normal, boring, like me. Nothing fancy, no flourish, just open, close, open, close. Some of them have pretty eyes, interesting eyes, so it’s okay for them to have a run-of-the-mill blink. But my eyes are brown and just kind of sit there on my face doing nothing remarkable. stupid eyes. I can’t change my eye shape or my color (if you think I’m going to put colored contacts in my eyes, you are nuts–I can handle just about anything, but touching my eyeball with my finger defies all manners of order and logic) but I can certainly do something about this lousy blink of mine, right?

That is why I am trying to become a slow blinker. They are my favorites. I’m talking drawbridge slow here. The best part? They don’t even realize how slow they’re blinking. I can blink at least twice in the time it takes them to blink once. Slow blinkers seem like they have a lot going on. Ever watch Joe Torre blink? It’s just creepy. The whole world is closed off to him for what seems like an eternity while he blinks.

I think slow blinkers are sexy. Not so much a “I want to fuck you right now” kind of sexy, but a more easy-going kind of sexy, like their eyes are drawling. Sensual I think is maybe the word I’m looking for.

So, I’ve been making a conscious effort to slow my blinking down, but it isn’t working so well for me. I have to be constantly aware of my blink speed, and I just can’t do that all day long. I have stuff to do, very important stuff, stuff that takes concentration and focus. But if I were a trust fund baby or married to a sports superstar, I think I would pour all my energies into becoming a slow blinker, one who drawls with her eyes and doesn’t even realize it.

Till then, I’m stuck with open, close, open close, tick tock, no one cares.