I know you know who they are because I've been talking to them backstage
Oh oh oh. There's a reason that no one is searching for Cool Ice, Cold Soda, and that is because I spelled it wrong. It is Kool Ice Kold Soda. Duh. Now that I know how to spell it, and know there is content on the interwebs, I feel so much better. Now I have to have faith that would-be one true loves do not cheat and look it up. If you step to me on the Kold Soda tip, you will be tested. Believe.
Wouldn't it be a kick if I started calling hockey games right here (live-blogging, I think the kids call it). Well, it would be a kick for me. Anyway, the second period of the Rangers at the Bruins is just starting, and we're up 2-1.
And which line did both of those goals come from? The third line. The line they bumped Matt Cullen (Eeee!) to because he was apparently outclassed as a second-line center. Whatever. Now he's centering Prucha and Ortmeyer. That is a trio I can really get into. Two Americans, even. And we (yes, now this is MY line) got both goals. So there.
PS And yes, I am the top search result for "stab myself in the neck". Good times.
PPS 8:18: Now it's 3-1. And yep, my line again.
Oh, and 8:22: Boston power play. Rangers' short handed goal. Whose? Matt Cullen's. It's 4-1. My line has all four goals.
Alrighty. It's 9:41. It's a 6-1 final, thanks to Shanahan's penalty shot and a Nylander goal. It wasn't an ALL third-line victory, but close enough. And what a joy! I can't remember the last time I had this much fun. Seriously.
It borders on ludicrous that I am unable to write more than once a week. I mean, really. But this weekend I was tired. So so tired. Friday I went to see "Les Miserables" with my mom and Dollo. Third time for me, fourth for my mom, first for Dollo. Sadly, Fantine was terrible. Other than that (although that's big — killed a big crying scene for me) it was very good.
Saturday I went for a walk to get milk at the farmers' market. Then, um, I think that was it. Oh yes, plus the "am I getting thrown out or a lease?" apartment drama ended (I'm getting a new lease Monday). And there was also the hockey game (just on TV, but exhausting all the same) and "Invincible." Let's see, Mark Wahlberg starring in an inspirational sports film about poor people? Of course I loved it!
Speaking of that, yes yes yes to his Oscar nomination. And yes yes yes for Ryan Gosling's. Finally, something to root for. Also, it's been about 18 years now that Mark Wahlberg first showed up in a New Kids on the Block fan magazine and I said, "Ooh, now that's what I'm talking about." So when he wins that Oscar, I can say I knew him when.
Today, I took a shower and spent the day switching between the couch and the computer. This is sad. I am sad. In nearly all senses of the word. But! I did manage to squeeze in three or four hours of Korean TV (No subtitles. And none of us speak Korean), including a show featuring practical science experiments. And the popular favorite, Xman. I never have any idea what's happening, but everyone is having so much fun that it hardly matters. Enjoy!
Last weekend — or was it the weekend before? — Dollie accused me of being "man crazy." Man crazy. Imagine? Just for fixating on some smiley eavesdropping dude who came into Jerry's in a Mets hat and told us when the new Garden was built (Hey, if you're that man, you could call me. Go back to Jerry's and they will tell you how to).
See, the thing is, I never get to see new boys. Lucky people who work in stores don't understand this. I see the same people every day, and of course I wouldn't like any of them — no office crushes for me since c. 1999 and Baseline Jeff (Hey, if you're that man, you could call me. Go to Jerry's and they will tell you how).
So yeah, new boys are very interesting to me. Like the guy who picked up my laundry this evening, for example. He was so smiley and tall and nice, and even complemented my (totally fantastic, as it happens) doormat. Hey, if you're that dude, call me. Or, you know, just bring back my laundry tomorrow.
There's no Rangers hockey until Saturday, so I'm pretty hard up for boy time. I'll not apologize.
I'm not sure what you know about "Bobby Granger's Guide to the Rangers" (very little is my guess. If I'm wrong, let me know. We have so much to discuss!) but it is a series of short spots promoting the greatest sport's greatest team (this is not defined with win/loss stats, clearly). Anyway, they are all quite funny and deliver precious off-ice seconds with the players.
Last night, Dollie introduced me to this one, which is my favorite ever, not just because Matt Cullen is in it (he's the ping-pong playing "Bonehead" who doesn't understand Russian) but mostly because it made me laugh for at least 15 minutes after I saw it. That plant? Comedy gold. I've never caught this one on TV, and I seriously watch hours of MSG a day. So I'm sharing. Enjoy!
We won! We won we won we won. I loved it. Matt Cullen played 98 shifts (the scorecard doesn't show this, but I know what I saw) and also took off his helmet and shook out his hair at one point. It looked like a new 'do. I liked it. This also didn't show up on the scorecard. I warn you now, the yearbook comes out Saturday. If it's as good as last year's I may have to take Monday off to take it all in. And you'll hear about it. Get ready.
So yes, fun Rangers times yesterday. Then we went and had pho (yay and yum) and met a great friend's new friend (very handsome, very fun), walked from Chinatown to Union Square and then through Williamsburg, and then we came home. Soon there was sleeping. Over nine hours of it.
This is what a weekend is supposed to be, my loves. Fun, sleeping, wins, boys.
Oh, and I dyed my hair some more. Medium ash brown? Not quite. It is totally black in the back and underneath. That better wear off quick.
And my Christmas tree is down, and out on the curb. Progress!
Tomorrow, Target and laundry. And gearing up for a hell of a week.
Oh my God. Andy Rooney is droning on and on about team names. He is killing me.
OK, I decided how I will know my one true love when I meet him: I will say, "Cool Ice, Cold Soda" and he will know what I am I talking about. Don't bother looking it up online, would-be suitors. Google is no help. Someone out there knows what I mean, and probably maybe it is Matt Cullen.
Hopefully this damn team stops losing, else I may have to think twice about him. Even if he knows "Cool Ice, Cold Soda." See, now I can say that because it is my team. Brett Hull, on the other hand, is dead to me. Talking smack about Matt Cullen and Adam Hall? In the middle of a game? On MSG? Don't hate the players, hate the game, son.
PS I am officially delirious. Is it really only Thursday?
Now Matt's more like it. What a delight. Clearly, Matt Cullen just needed someone to talk him up. See how supportive I am? I inspire great success. Unfortunately, the post-game interview highlighted just how incredibly lovely the mighty Mr. Cullen is, and now everyone will be in love. What a bummer.
Do you think there will be NY Rangers at the Sloan show? They're off that night and the next night. And it's right between a NJ game and a home game, so they'll be in town, presumably. Lots of Canadians in the ranks — you'd think someone on the team has to like Sloan. I ask only because I'm going to need something to entertain me during the bad songs. There's only so many times I can go to the ladies' room. Alone. If you're at the show and see a Ranger, find me quick.
don't regret what you have done, regret what you've become
I have a new favorite song. It's called "Gimme One More Chance" by Drug Dog. Hear it now!
There's a lesson in this story, kids: If you want to know how to get me to pay attention to you, be from a band that doesn't exist anymore that I still love today, (that part's tough, I admit) and leave a comment of "QXK!" on my MySpace profile. It works every time.
So I have this disease. It's the Fever, but not a fever for cowbell or even Matt Cullen. It's a real fever, and while I would normally just drown it in over-the-counter medication and liquids, I cannot, for nothing I put in my body is staying there. Which defies laws of gravity and logic, and I hate it.
So they let me go home very early to get better and not make anyone sick. But it is boring here. So I will take a nap. Another problem is that my whole body feels like it is cooking from the inside, except my hands and feet are freezing cold, like there's no blood in them. That's just gross. I hope a nap cures this, because that's all I've got to work with. And I need to get back to work bright and early tomorrow. Working from home is way too frustrating and irritating to be an option, especially on a Thursday.
Eew, there's a big Jeff Goldblum-sized fly in the house. I'm crying.
Oh, please read this. It's like The Framley Examiner, only real. Also, in case Merrill didn't tell you, that means he had 47 goals and 42 assists (for a total of 89 points) in 28 games. And that's what we'd call a fantastic 28 games.
Yes, he's married. Yes, he has a new baby (named Brooks. How delightful is that?!) But I'm sorry, when the Brett Anderson of the NHL is on my team, I'm bound to catch some feelings. I mean, really.
