I really shouldn't watch an entire evening of Hockey playoffs. I'm so wound up right now.. Ahhh!! FREAKIN OVERTIME! Thank goodness the players finally woke up and started playing hockey. I don't even like either the Canbucks or Blackhawks (but I'm obviously going to cheer for the Canucks.. they're the next best thing to the Habs. And they have Luongo).
Ah! They won!! WOOOOOO.
Okay. But see. It winds me up and I can't calm down.
It's a love/hate relationship.
Rew usually keeps me in check. And by "in check," I mean that he refuses to let me watch any kind of sport on tv. And dislikes bringing me to any live game. He's pretty much against all organized sport. Something about being pressured into being awesome at High School Football turning him off.. Too much pressure, yaddy yaddy yadda...
I, on the other hand.. LOVE IT! Whether playing, watching, talking about or even thinking about it. I just can't get enough of it.
I'm competitive, okay. I admit it.
I get into it. I sit on the edge of my seat. I stare, often forgetting to blink. I mumble, swear, yell, shriek.
Yes, I shriek. And growl.
Tonight I had to contain myself. I watched the games with Rew's dad. (Rew is gone for the night, I stole the remote control! and indulged).
I basically sat at the kitchen table with my most recent project in front of me, slowly getting the last little bits together, staring... mumbling... swearing... telling off the refs.
Okay, maybe I didn't swear. Unless you count, "ARE YOU FREAKIN SHITTIN' ME!"
I wouldn't say it in front of my Great Aunt the Nun or my priest. It counts.
Ack, and I have to go through this all over again tomorrow.
I can't wait.