I went on an AWESOME date tonight. It was hot.
There were lots of aggressive men. It included body slams, shoving and a bit of smack talking. There was screaming, cheering and a Boooo! now and then. We even had some rock music to accompany the action. And it went on much longer than we expected. I got so into it, I decided that medication, therapy or talking are not the ways for me to work things out. Nope. It is me, 12 men and some ice. That is where the real frustrations and irritations get worked out. It would have been the perfect date if only there were more fights. Two tiny skirmishes made it less aggressive than a half off sale at Nordstrom’s. Yet, it didn’t stop my screaming, cheering and carrying on.
Oh, yeah, baby. Next time I am having a time of it and feel a bit bitchy or frustrated, I am SO going to go take it out at a hockey game. You should remember that I am the woman who was screaming in labor…not because I was in pain (blessings to the gods of the epidural) but rather because I was watching hockey and was so into the game I didn’t realize I was yelling loud enough for the nurses the hear me. I was told I would always be remembered as the Mom who was more in pain by the bad hockey plays than the labor. (They didn’t even win. They tied!) All that just to say that hockey got me through labor then and through frustration today. I heart hockey.
I will admit, I was like a child at the game. I have loved hockey for years. Every time I had the chance to go to a Star’s game it fell through. This time…SCORE! Giggling and pointing and smacking Clint in the arm way too many times with comments like, “Ohmigod! It’s MIKE MODANO! I could probably even smell his sweat if I tried really hard!” or “Holy crap I can actually SEE Turco spit on the ice. That is so frickin’ cool, man!” Luckily, no one else could hear me. (Trust me, it was enough that poor Clint could.) Not to mention that no one could possibly hear me over the ridiculous, non-stop chattering of the frat-boys and their giggle girlfriends behind us. Every few minutes I would turn to Clint with a vicious glare on my face and spit out, “Seriously? Seriously!?”
Aside from that, it ROCKED! The game ended with a 3-3 score. What? Ahhh, overtime. Blessed overtime. The bonus you get awarded when you stay put and don’t leave early when your team is down. After overtime? STILL a tie. Which brings on a super special bonus of a SHOOT-OUT! Lord have mercy on my racing heart! I was screaming, shouting, cheering, hooting, hollering, and basically being loud and channeling all of my inner testosterone. The Dallas Stars beat the Minnesota Wild 4-3 in a wild game! (Pun totally intended.)
Beer. Hot-dogs. Hockey. Life is sooooo sweet!
Oh, yeah, baby…
Clint is I am so getting lucky after such an awesome night of hockey fun!