- The concert last night was great. I liked three out of the five bands opening, which I figure is pretty good. We missed most of The Common Kings because we were chilling with Jeff Czum at the merch table. (Apparently after my friend took a picture with him, she told him she loved him. I pointed out to her that he must have thought I was hotter, though, because he actually came out from behind the table and threw his arm around me and pulled me close for our picture. She told me to go screw myself, and I told her that by Tuesday Jeff can be all hers again. She realized that was true and dropped it.) CIWWAF played all my favorite songs, so, you know, life is good.
- I don’t really have any Sabres news to report other than Timmykins getting sent back down. Poor Timmykins! I’m kind of surprised; I thought this one would last longer. He had looked pretty good Saturday night. Oh well, maybe this means one of the boys will be coming back!
- Poor Jay McKee. I really hope they don’t have to chop off his finger. (Dear Jay, This is what you get for leaving Buffalo! With Love, Frostee)
- Before I left last night, I teased my mom telling her how she was probably going to just sit around watching the Capitals game without me. Well, apparently she did. (I was rather amused by this) I was helping her put groceries away a minute ago when suddenly she asked me, “Do you know how big Ovechkin is?” Frostee: “6’2, 220 pounds.” Frostee’s Mom: “Yeah!! I didn’t realize how big he was until one of the announcers said how his son wanted to meet him and when Alex hugged him, he engulfed him because he was so big.” Frostee: (whining) “I wanna meet Alex!!! PLEEEAAAASSSSEEEE!!!! Get me in to meet Alex!! I really really really wanna!!!!!!” Frostee’s Mom: “How am I supposed to get you in to meet him? I don’t announce for the Capitals.” Frostee: “I don’t knooooowwwwww. Just do something.”
- So, I half-jokingly had been saying that today after I got my shot (it’s my last Gardasil and those always hurt like hell and therefore make me slighty…er…cranky) I was going to make my mom drive me downtown to keep me from getting annoying. Because is it just me, or does it seem like EVERY SINGLE TIME a Caps player has a funny story about something that happened with the team, they were always “on a road trip in Buffalo”? I was going to stake out all the hot spots and when he finally showed up (because I trust that Fate would send him walking right by me) I would ever so politely ask for a photograph. I wouldn’t even ask for an autograph on my jersey unless he had a minute to spare. Just a quick little picture. I can’t do that now, however, because my uncle decided to come in for my great-aunt’s funeral today and they’re all coming for dinner. Blast!
- Speaking of great-aunts and funerals, fortunately unfortunately for you, I have to go up north for it tomorrow so you’ll only get a short post from me. I’m sure you’re crushed that you won’t have to deal with approximately sixty, “OMG OMG OMG IDK WHAT TO WEAR OR WHAT TO DO WITH MY HAIR OR HOW TO STAND THERE OMG OMG OMG WHAT IF HE THINKS I’M A LOSERRR?” posts tomorrow, just one. We have to go all the way up to North Tonawanda for the funeral (but it was kind of a blessing that she passed, because she was in her nineties and was totally batshit crazy kind of confused in her later years. and I haven’t even seen her since I was eight), and then we’re just chilling at my grandparents’ until the game.
- At Town Ballroom last night when they were showing the upcoming shows, it kept advertising “Ryan Miller’s Catwalk for Charity.” I wasn’t quite sure why they did that, because 95% of the people there won’t even be old enough to get in.
- Good grief, Bills. At least that’s over.
Just In Case Some Of You Are New To This, “Day to day” = “Maybe he’ll be back in the line-up by February, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”November 13, 2008 at 5:51 pm | Posted in Alex Ovechkin, Jay McKee, This Irks Me, Tim Connolly, What Is Up With All These Injuries?, Winning Is Totally Awesome | 2 Comments
Seriously, people? Tim Connolly does not just have “a bruised chest.” Right now he is probably lying in a hospital bed in a full body cast. The second he got hit last night, I said that maybe we’d see him by Christmas. Maybe. But I wouldn’t bet any money on that.
While we’re talking about last night’s game, I just thought I should let everyone know that I thought that game SUCKED. I don’t really care if they won. It was supposed to be a blow-out. My friend was at the game and this morning she told me that it was the most frustrating game she’s ever been to, and that she’s never heard the Sabres hit so many goal posts. (Dear Sabres, Even I could have made some of those goals, and when we played floor hockey in eighth grade I was the verbal enforcer. With Love, Frostee.) And am I the only one who didn’t notice Jay McKee was playing until halfway through the second period? Because all the sudden he was there on the ice and I was like, “Whoa! Jay!”
You know what game didn’t suck last night? The Capitals/Hurricanes game. That was totally badass how the Caps won even though Theodore had to go in after Johnson got hurt. (I am growing more and more attached to Brent Johnson after every game I watch. I hope he’s okay.) I missed Alex’s goal, but I got to see him and Alex Semin jump up and down after Semin scored. It was uber-cute. And when they showed my secret boyfriend, my dad said that he still couldn’t believe he was flirting with me, even though he was right there and saw it. I think he’s having a tough time accepting the fact that the hockey players just love me.
I’m really jealous, though, because I got an email from my cousin earlier today saying that her friend works for John Deere, and apparently John Deere has a box, and he invited her. Ugh. She was all like, “Hey! I went to the game last night! It was a lot of fun, even though the Hurricanes lost!” and my reply was something along the lines of “Um, you BET the Hurricanes lost. Because the Capitals happen to rock. And I happen to love them. And even though Grandma is trying to talk me out of it, I’m going to marry Alex Ovechkin.” And then I went into my whole, “Alex was caring for his sick grandfather so I didn’t get to see him!!!” sob story.
I’m really jealous.
(I stole this picture from the Capitals’ website. Don’t tell on me.)
Well, now that I’ve gotten that taken care. I have to say, while it may have taken me like 20 minutes to get to the actual ballot (I’m not sure if it was the computer or the website, but something was trying to keep me from voting), it was totally worth it. I absolutely can not remember anything from when I voted last year (but don’t worry, I did), and was afraid that I would have to chose between voting for Thomas or Alex on the left wing. This poses a problem because while Thomas is definitely more deserving of the starting position at this point, I am, after all, kind of crazy-obsessed with Alex. But I ended up voting for both of them. And I probably won’t vote again tonight, because I still have to study and copy down Latin vocab, but I will most likely vote again tomorrow.
And did anyone else see that game last night? It was…like…crazy, man. And I’m totally glad Henrik Zetterberg scored, because I spent the first ten minutes of the game complaining that Henrik Zetterberg has like dropped of the face of the Earth because I never hear about him anymore, but then there he was, in all his Jake-Gyllenhaal’s-clone glory.
Hey, listen, I know you might not be playing tonight, but do you think you could tell your team that if they beat the Sabres it would emotionally scar you and you would never be able to recover from the pain of it? Because, you know, the Sabres kind of need a win.
Your Friend (does that sound totally familiar?!?)
- My arm hurts like HELL. Geez. It figures that when I go to get my flu shot, I get the same bitchy lady who gave me my second Gardasil shot and doesn’t even know how to properly administer a shot. Ugh.
- I love that freaking pigeon. And I also loved that ten stupid questions segment! It proves that Crunchy and I are SOUL-MATES. We both love chocolate. He likes brunettes, and I am a brunette. He sucks at poker, but I’m really good at it and could kick his ass. We both would choose going out with friends. Soul-mates, Dear Readers. Soul-mates. (And who didn’t love him explaining to Lalime who Ginger and Mary Ann were?)
- Speaking of Crunchy, I have decided that since he is okay with scoring a goal on his own net, I’m okay with it too. He just wanted to make me love him more, since he knows that I am crazy for goal-scorers.
- P.S. to Crunchy: If you hug your BFF after the game tonight, that would be totally awesome. Just an idea.
- Danny Briere is out for a couple weeks. HA!
- Center Ice is amazing. Last night we sat around watching hockey, and we’ve already got our game plan for tonight set up. It’s going to be hectic, with all 30 teams playing, but we think we’ll be able to see a bit of every single game, which is our goal. (I just hope we won’t have to resort to charts, the way we almost had to last year during the playoffs. It’s hard keeping all the games you’re watching straight!)
- Poor Manny.
- While we were watching the Blues/ Kings game, we decided that my dad has to dig up Jay McKee’s number and send him a nice, friendly text. We totally miss Jay.
- Is anyone else, like, totally excited that we’re getting the World Juniors? I LOVE international play!!!
- My dad and I are psychic. Thursday night I absolutely called Royzie getting the game-winner, and last night my dad showed off a bit of psychic skillz. We had been watching other games but flipped to the Anaheim/Ottawa one to see the final score. The Sens had called a time-out and the fans were cheering like crazy. They weren’t showing the score on the top of the screen. Frostee: “Stupid Sens fans. Don’t they realize their loser team is going to lose?” Frostee’s Dad: “You never know. It might be 4-3 or something.” Then they showed the score, and it was 4-3. If you need us to call anything, send me an email. Tonight I will be sitting on the couch, and every time Ovie touches the puck I’m going to shout, “Oh, I bet ALEX OVECHKIN is going to SCORE A GOAL NOW.”
- Quakers won last night. Go OP!!!
I did not go to Puck Drop today. I begged my chauffeur mom to take me, but she said no. (I did get an ADORABLE homecoming dress on sale for $15, but still. I wanted to see the boyz) My friend Corinne, however, did get to go. She texted me while we were at Macy’s giving me scrimmage updates, and then she called me when I got home. The following were the major conversation points:
- The line to get to Crunchy was too long, so she wasn’t able to tell him how her (crazy) friend wouldn’t really mind having his wonky-browed children, but apparently he was wearing a camouflage military hat very much like the sexy one I am getting. How cool is that? We have the same tastes in fashion! (Except mine is better than his. Because I, unlike he, can pull off a cardigan)
- Since Corinne is my ALL-TIME FAVORITE person in the ENTIRE WORLD, she got me Gerb-dogg’s autograph. And Yo-yo’s. As Ben Affleck and Matt Damon put it, she is my heterosexual life partner. (Because Eragon is my sexual [is that what you’d call it? we’re not gay, ’cause he’s a guy and I’m a girl] life partner. And as soon as I’m done with my English project I’m reading more of Brisingr. I LOVE YOU ERAGON)
- Corinne loves Andrew Peters a lot. I’ve mentioned it before. However, she was hesitant to go over to get his autograph. After much encouraging from her dad, she went over to him with a picture of him for an autograph as he was getting ready to leave. The following exchange ensued, proving that Petey is JUST AS AWESOME as we had always assumed.
Corinne: Um, excuse me? Mr. Peters? Would you mind signing this?
Petey: Who’s Mr. Peters? Is my dad here or something?
Yeah. Andrew Peters basically PWNZ.
I have to admit, I am a little jealous. I’ll let you in on a little secret, Dear Readers: I’ve never actually met a hockey player. I know. How much does that suck? Andrew Peters may be walking around assuming I love him most, and Gerb-dogg might be my facebook friend, but I’ve never taken a picture or met face-to-face. Other than going to games, the closest I’ve ever gotten is my beloved Jay McKee autograph.
(You can’t tell, but there’s a picture of rookie Ryan Miller with his super long hair right underneath. I can’t believe anyone let him go out in public with hair like that)
And I realize that it says Emily. That’s what it says on my birth certificate too. But everyone calls me Frostee.
Jay McKee was my FRIEND but then he had to betray me and leave. Gerb-dogg better not betray me too, now that I have his autograph. I’ll show you all a picture when I get it on Monday.
And I’ll talk about the goalies after I translate Shakespeare to modern English.