honestly I don't remember who you are

Here's what happened:


Hockey. We win, we lose, it runs my life. PS Have you met Fredrik Sjostrom?

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I mean, really. Whoa, right? Today hockey isn't looking great, but we will still win the Stanley Cup and I will still get my tattoo.

In other news, everything else is difficult and making me miserable, including the fact that my annual (see 2007 and 2006) so so so wrong obsession with a so so so wrong man has come around, and he's pulling a "CSI: Miami" this year. I can laugh about it now, but that doesn't make it OK.

Hmm, what else? Finally, after getting my hands on the book years late (and then choosing to put it on the backburner and avoid reading it right after my poor Nipsey went to heaven), I am reading "The Year of Magical Thinking." Which is great because I can't even listen to "11:11" without crying (believe me, I have tried!), clearly a book about death is just what I need during these fragile (for some reason) days. But what Joan Didion does (what she always does) is make me itch to write my book. So I have been, a tiny bit. A very tiny bit. I came home last night after an unsettling outing with El Fano (the movie was disturbing, not the company) and wrote two small parts. I think I only have about 1,200 other parts to go. Hooray!

In these uncertain times, a good song to listen to is "Second Chance," by Liam Finn, because it feels like a shot of adrenaline, mostly when it gets to the "you stand around your haunted home" mark. I love it right now, and I hope you like it too.

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three will love you so much

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.

no need for further questioning

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.

it's the last thing that's holding me

Oh Sloan. Their L.A. album release party is a Cobrasnake production, DJed by Steve Aoki. I find this adorable, somehow.

So do you think the U.S. release is going to have 30 completely different tracks? I'm holding on to hope.

PS: Eeeee!

slow down, you're taking me over

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.

selling records being you but still you wanna be me

Coincidence, or a clear case of Jay sweating my technique? I can't say for sure. I wonder if he took his shot in the Bowery Ballroom basement bar also, or if that red is all after effects. Either way, I bet he didn't take that photo himself. Got you there, Hov. I'm talented, son.

I'll serve you just to serve

Today is a very sporting day. First was the marathon, which I mark not by running 26.2 miles, but by clapping and "whoo!-ing" nonstop for three hours. It's exhausting, and probably the most athletic thing I do all year. Here's a photo I found on Flickr from today. I'm in it. So's Dollo. Can you find us?

And now the hockey game is on. It is too hot in here (or I am too fevery) to keep my new gorgeous amazing Beukeboom jersey on (#23, son!).

I feel pretty miserable again. While out clapping and "whoo!"-ing, I was not feeling pain for I was entirely into it. But now I am home and hurting again.

I really want a grilled cheese sandwich. "So make a grilled cheese sandwich" you might say. Except I don't have cheese or bread. What a disgrace. I am a grownup, with money, and I elect to keep a home that doesn't include bread and cheese? It's only now that I realize how ridiculous this is.

clear the floor

I am so tired and cranky. The people picked up my laundry on Wednesday, and it still hasn't been returned. I've had a fever for about three weeks. And I really want to go to bed. I have nothing to write about. So instead, look at this photo! It is taken from my sexy hot 1/2 season ticket seat. What a delight. And the Rangers keep winning, two times in a row! This is a step in the right direction. Good times.